The Birds of Vatican

Learning from the birds, or where is a secret door to let the magic in

“Tell me the story,” The boss commands.

“Umm. Amm…” The young man looks sideways, his body is moving like he wants to leave the table and disappear, but he is pinned to the chair.

“Do not tell me your story. Tell me the story.” He smiles and puts the paper down, points his finger to the newspaper, and says with a rising force, “Ninety percent of it is bullshit. I know! But I read it for entertainment. So, if I stop reading it, now you gotta entertain me. Tell me THE story.”

Hundreds of black birds were flying in shapes that kept transforming every second in some magic order. If you watched the opening ceremony of the Olympiad in Bejing, they did something similar with thousands of people dressed-up and moving together according to the choreography, so from a distance, the shapes of different colors expanded, submerged, transformed to mesmerize the viewers across the globe. The birds did something of that sort, and I could not figure out the reason for this mystical dance in the sky. Countless black birds in a cobalt blue sky are making fluid shapes like a painter with some crazy imagination making bold brushstrokes without even a second for a coffee break.

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Olenka Geyyer

Artist. Traveler. Storyteller. Mother. I create, feel, notice, and appreciate the world of ideas, joy, and magic.