|roof, otters club, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
They are building. At least two of them. One of them always messes it up, always. He comes, brings one stick, lands on the collection of small branches, sits on the big branch. He tries to arrange, rearrange, his stick on the other sticks. It takes him time. Moves it around, attempts to drop it on the rest of the little sticks. Keeps it still in his mouth, moves around again.
One stick is falling. Not his one, another one, while he was hesitating. I knew that, sometimes too long consideration just makes it worth.
Decision, experience, trial and error. I would say to the crow. And the crow would say ‘Patience my dear. A house is not build in one day’
|tree with birds1, otters club, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
|tree with birds2, otters club, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
The second crow is coming. She was for a while away. Maybe she had enough looking at the other crow messing around but far too hot weather to get a temper over getting annoyed by her.
She is much better, flies from branch to branch, quick. Looks around, flies again. Finally comes with another stick back, puts it on top of the other sticks, flies again.
I am stupid, I lost again something. This time my id card for going swimming. So need to go back to the swimming pool, write a letter about my lost, get another copy. Not a big issue but feels like.
|roof2, otters club, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
handwriting is for me like doing math by heart. No that is not true, counting, adding and substraction I do much more often than handwriting.
Handwriting is just do. the question is when? I have a notebook, but that is empty because too much work to write in them, I bought a spare empty book which I do not use because I know I mess it up. A bit like the messy bird.
My typing gets better, do not have any organized 10 fingers system, never learned it, but can now already look away and write without any major mistakes (unless I start in the wrong place everything gets messed up).
|birds, street, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
|brids2, street, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|
Watching birds I never do as well. Never. Less than handwriting. Promise. Never thought about how they would make a nest, never was curious about watching animal movies, except from the school ones which were still on old roles of film, which where in big film roles in iron wheels, the teacher had to get the end though the protector. How damn fiddely that was. How often I heard him swearing and then the rattling sound of the machine, the lines in the image.
But just those animal movies, nothing else. Do the birds are watching us. Or ignoring us as we do them? They are looking at us when we are building high buildings and then smashing them down?
|lot of birds, street, bandra, mumbai, 7th may 2012|