The Birds and the Breeze (May 2020)
Lockdown 2
A few clouds skitter across an otherwise pale blue sky, covering the face of the sun, and the breeze turns cold rather than cooling. The chill is fleeting, and the temperature returns when the clouds pass, until the next time at least. Goosebumps rise and fall to this meteorological rhythm, hairs bristle on my arm, then relax.
There are occasional faint hums of traffic, but these cannot compete with the birds, whose noise is relentless. A continual soundscape of chatters and shrieks, which the human brain resolves as joyous. What are they so pleased about? Do they realise what's happening? God, how quiet was it during the early months of the pandemic? And remember when it seemed that the one silver lining was the cessation of human activity giving the natural world some respite, and a chance to heal? That didn't last long, did it?