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Big Bird Finally Decides to Join His Friends in their Yearly Migration



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Big Bird is getting tired. He has been flying for a very long time. South. Always south. He did not want to go. But he had to. Because mi-gra-tion is in his genes. This is his first time. Pre-vi-ous-ly he always could resist the urge. But not this time. He had to go. South. To warmer places. He had felt lone-ly late-ly. An in-de-fin-able unrest to meet fellow big birds. But flying is tiring. E-spe-ci-al-ly for a wingless bird. He is not sure he will make it. He counts the clouds. One-two-three-four-five. Six-seven-eight-nine-ten. Eleven twelve. Big bird is sad. He wants to go back to his friends in se-sa-me street. But he can't. Because he has to follow his des-ti-ny

(M3D with light post processing: Some of the clouds in the background have been brought forward to before the mountain))