This morning, for the first time this year, I saw a starling feasting on one of my feeders.
Walking through my neighbourhood some seven years ago, in the evening, I came across a forgotten doll, remains of a childhood which, perhaps, was in the process of being discarded.
Since then I have seen the girl to whom this doll that, once upon a time, cherished it. She is now a young woman, probably discarding boyfriends.
Snow, untouched, a blanket of silence punctured by the occasional chirping of sparrows…
Until it was violated by foot steps, the magic gone.
Enjoying his first snow…
(although not from a holiday brochure)
A confluence of light, river, sky, land, carefully positioned clouds on an otherwise blue sky, a brilliant summer afternoon, ingredients to transform a rather mundane scene
(the back of The Deep)
into something that stuck in my mind.
Over the years Sammy Point have evolved from being a derelict finger of land to meet the rivers that define the city.
In medieval times a fort was built on it, although located further in land, to defend the port from the marauding Danish seafarers.
The fort was abandoned, its only traces in the stories of the city, and the recently excavated foundations visible in a dig.
The Deep, designed by Terry Farrell, is one of the few successful Millennium projects.
Girl looking at her smartphone, lunch time as I remember, totally oblivious at the life around her, people shopping, or at their lunchtime… I was intrigued by the contrast of her body and the hardness of the wall behind her.
Rain this morning, I could hear it knocking on my bedroom window as I was waking up, I positioned my bed next to it, the rain singing its tune on the glass, the stars gliding is the last thing I see before closing my eyes.
As spring is coming up, I am looking forward to the sun shining on my face.
After a while, I heard the chirping of the birds, sparrows mostly, perhaps blue tits too, also, marauding gulls about to dive after spotting a morsel on the ground. Flocks of starlings will fill the sky and the soundscape with their impatience later.
Tanzanian black coffee on my hand in the balcony, stray drops of water hitting on my face, the cold and the wind embracing me, Yannick on my lap until Blackie, a neighbouring cat came to have her usual morning bite.
Even in winter, perhaps specially in winter, I love to feel surrounded by the morning.
Seagulls are fascinating birds, very fast, annoying people they have robbed their morsels, very graceful too.
They have a bad reputation, which, I think, is undeserved. We, humans, have pushed them closer to us. We are getting the results of our endeavour.