From my Bedroom Window 2

Oftentimes waking up is accompanied by a sickening realization: That some sleep time was devoted to a new painless suicide method.  This morning the window net went up to peer down,  checking for a clear fall down so many floors to die? Ghastly answer: NO.  Pairs of window shades at every level created enough brakes to ensure numerous broken bones,  but death was doubtful.   One more fail-safe method gone Phoos. Ducking in,  an intriguing sight caught my eye. Two scantily clad tall trees stand out in the dense copse below the window, bearing scattered yellow blooms. Close to top of a tall tree sat a baby monkey, surrounded by a gaggle of pigeons determinedly making its life miserable.   Perhaps having been chased from feeding grounds by Baby's seniors, methinks. For good ten-odd minutes, the pigeons taunted it,  pecking at his back,  tweaking the long hanging tail. Baby swatted with all his energy. At some stage wisdom,  or perhaps mama's inaudible call reminded him that if his attackers had wings to change position in rotation,  he could Leap. And leap it did.  Gathering strength,  a huge leap landed him invisible in the dense foliage next door. Then possibly a speedy passage unseen thru the thick dark green, nary a telltale movement of a leaf.   Prey vanished,  the pigeons dispersed in different positions. From the distance, I had wavered between cat n monkey,  until its distinctive back marking and impressive leap confirmed Monkey, agile as only a monkey can be.