The world is breathing. It is the wind on my body, the sunlight that shines from above, the ground my feet dig into. It is everything and nothing. It is the creatures that pass me, that live out their lives in close proximity to my own without ever noticing me because I am neither food nor shelter for them. Simultaneously, it is the creatures that live within and on me, the creatures that must consume me to live another day themselves.

I am one, small being here. I am unimportant and inconsequential, but I am part of this breathing. I am part of the inward gasp and, when it comes time, I will be part of the long exhale. I know my life is short and inconsequential to most, but I hope it is short and beneficial for others. I can't do much about my worth like some of the other creatures can.

I do not walk or talk. I cannot pull out my feet to make myself more accessible to those who need me or to move out of the way of those that don't. There are other creatures that can, though, but I am not sure if I envy them or if I am thankful that I don't have to worry about such things. It seems like such a headache. I know I am where I am meant to be because it is the only place I can ever be. I will never have a family to look after, or friends to communicate with, while we swoop through the air, searching for mice and whatever other prey may be scuttling on the ground.

One might think this means I'm lonely, but it doesn't, and I'm not. I'm not lonely. While I do not communicate like the creatures around me, I am connected to my own kind in a unique way. I can feel them, the way their lives continue in tandem to my own. I can feel each of their breaths and how that breath grows weaker each day. They aren't fighting, though. That's not what our kind do. We live, we exist, we contribute.

We do this to the greatest of our abilities until we can't anymore. It is a simple, but fulfilling, existence. I don't want anything else. I am not meant to be important, and that is not a bad thing. I am not meant to have attention called to me, and that is alright.

It is true that I am a small part, but that is precisely why I am important. I am a part. I do not have to be a big part to mean something. I do what I am meant to do. Nothing more, nothing less, and I am happy with that. There are many beings that do not get to the part. I do. And for that I am very thankful.

I know I have less time than most things here around me, but I am lucky to have even a single summer because now I have known what it is to be a part.