It's a pure joy to sit and watch life on the rooftops. The blinders of the windows were shut all day, windows closed like in the mediterranean countries in summer. We had 32 degrees Celsius today.
In the evening we open up and I sit in the sofa and watch the seagulls. The young ones are already flying and it reminds me of how short summer is. How is their perspective? Busy making the babies, laying on the eggs and one day the little ones fall down from the rooftop, exactly like planned. The parents risk their life to protect them. And now they fly, the little ones. In a blink of my life. What is time to them? I would like to talk to a seagull with experience one day. That would be an interesting conversation. I could tell her something too.
