The Vogons Are Coming!
Random Ruminations (of the second kind)
I spy a common myna couple on the terrace. Mouths open. Thirsty I presume. Flitting about from here to there. Always moving. In the distance, the storm clouds are piling up ominously towards the south east. They will have some water to drink soon enough.
Why don’t more people install bird feeders I wonder. Poor creatures.
The wind kicks up. The storm clouds in the distance seem to mimic the political turmoil in the region. The oath taking ceremony is scheduled for later today.
Everyone claims to be the defender of democracy. It is not clear who if anyone is defending anything other than their own interests. Like most of life, nothing is black and white. It is all shades of grey. Depending on where you stand, or how you look at it, what is “good” and what is “right” changes. Take your pick.
The birds don’t care.
They see me now — standing behind the window. Piqued, one of them, approaches and starts to banter. The other one is busy cleaning it’s beak repeatedly. OCD. I wonder if anyone has studied Mynas in an urban environment. Apparently they can speak. This one just squeaks in fifty different sharps and flats. Like the rats of Hamelin town in Brunswick.
Aware of the impending thunder storm perhaps but definitely unaware of the political storm or the ramifications thereof.
One option could lead to slower development, saving their habitats for longer perhaps. The other option might lead to faster development, causing greater destruction of their habitat in the short run but perhaps generating enough additional resources for the local government to build a green belt down the line perhaps, leading to habitat creation.
They don’t care. They don’t know. They are thirsty and I am not interesting enough, standing still on the other side of the window. The piqued one, now the miffed one, jumps off the terrace in a suicidal leap: falling like a stone for a couple of meters before deciding to flap its wings furiously to fly off and sit on a lamp-post in the distance.
The other one is cleaning it’s beak again. They don’t know.
We think we know.
For all we know the Vogons could be coming.
The Vogons are coming!
The Vog…#@!!
