There are some days when you know so certainly that you needed a walk. A good afternoon walk.
It was that kind of day and you wandered into the park, so big and wild that would set lose your full body and mind. The day was wet and cool, in fact not the perfect weather to stay out for too long. But as the park got dressed in shades of leaves, earth, tree barks, puddles and seeds; what got undressed could be big plans, lingering worries, memories of a bad dream.
In this February season, solemness easily hovered above dead trees on the ground. How long had they been here, still, unmoving? How could they bear this solitude, as they had lost connection to its roots and the lives that came through? As you pondered on that thought, you understood that the “dead tree” had entered a new constant – little creatures inhabited its structure, mosses and wild plants climbed all over it. It received rains from the sky and moistures from earth. It allowed air and bacteria to alter its texture and composition. Not a 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢, still life.
Your gaze drifted along…then there was a flash of color. A very light green dashed across the void between tree branches, almost neon-like, as it contrastingly repelled the surrounding greyness 🟢. It must be the parakeets with their long acid-green body. The exotic bird was not native to this kingdom land, numerous myths tried to explain why they began to breed. Had they ever missed home (scientists said they could be from Pakistan or North India)?
The parakeets whooshed from one tree to the other, flexibly swamped in and out of tree cavity holes. It happened as blackness of the cavity swallowed the green bird in split seconds. You would never know if behind the blackness was the hollow tree or a whole universe. 🦜
17.02.24
