8 pm. I’m sitting at my dinner table with a cup of the and a good book. The big sliding doors of the balcony are opened to let some fresh air in the apartment. It has been a warm day; 28 degrees (82 degrees Fahrenheit). I’m reading a book and now and then I stop to think about an idea I’ve just read. That’s when I look up at the sky and see that the painting has changed again. Dark clouds are closing in. The sun gives its last salute through the clouds by a golden lucidity and some rays that touch the earth which gives the whole setting a divine appearance.
In the distance I hear a blackbird singing its song before going to sleep. Even further there are a couple of huge trees rising above a four-story building. The trees are the home of a group of Jackdaws. Every day around 8:30pm they take off from the trees and perform a unison dance through the air. I think there are some 200 birds. There must be an explanation for why they perform this ritual every night. But I don’t care. I just enjoy the show.
Then I hear the thunder in the far distance. The animated painting now gets a threatening appearance. The first drops of rain reach my windows. The Jackdaws hurry back to their tree. Did they foresee it was going to rain?
The rain is intense but doesn’t last very long. I closed my balcony doors but after the rain shower I quickly open them again to hear the rest of the show. In the distance I hear the Jackdaws talking about their performance. Nearby I hear some oyster catchers making a lot of fuss about something.
And there it is again. The sun, shining powerful, almost horizontally now, illuminating the sky. It’s almost 9:30pm. Show-off! Sparrows return to their work. They dance through the air trying to catch insects. The blackbird continues its song. Seagulls also contribute to the performance with their particular call. The fresh air that enters the apartment now has a scent of rain. I like it. The earth needed to cool off a bit.
What a magnificent show again! Thank you.
Moral of the story? I don’t know. I just had to get this out of my system. Maybe the moral is to look up from your work now and then and enjoy the wonders of nature? Or just: take a break now and then and take a deep breath? Maybe the moral is that it’s not always necessary to know the moral of a story.
