Nubivagant (adjective): to move through the clouds

The little green bird chose to fly high today.

Streaking across the sunrise like a viridescent star, it soared to its heart’s content in the crisp morning air.

A mysterious happiness shrouded its small wings, and it wanted to sing, loud and clear like the songbirds. It wasn’t as if the little bird had discovered an infinite amount of seeds or found a story particularly enthralling…

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It just felt happy to be alive.

The tiny green body freed itself from the shackles of gravity, sailing through and within the misty clouds underlined by pastel highlights of forenoon’s pink and gold. Higher and higher it rose, until the air around was so thin that it struggled for air.

But the difficult breathing only made the bird more aware that it was alive. Suddenly, the condition of consciousness felt stronger than ever. The breaths were proof of its existence, proof of its life.