I got to my perch in time to see Palemale taking in Lola's food for the evening. She flew off with the food while Palemale sat on the eggs. After a bit of exercise she was back in the nest after a half hour.
The wind engaged in heavy conversation all evening with the trees and the clouds and of course Lola.
Surely Palemale also had something to say.
I wish I could have joined in the conversation but I felt there was more to learn by just listening to them all.
Even a rusty ventilation pipe above and behind me tried to chime in on the conversation by spinning its spiral cap as the wind spoke.
I wished someone could oil it and silence the lazy squealing sound it made, but then I saw how proud it was to speak and I suddenly delighted in its voice that sounded so excited with the rushing Wind.
I looked up behind me through a wrought iron rail and saw the short, fat pipe held erect with wire straps gently leaning against a weathered brick wall. When the wind rested its tongue the pipe spoke less and when the wind dashed and screamed the pipe alighted.
Maybe it was just crying out in excitement to express its happiness of feeling the wind on its face, or maybe it was indeed serious conversation. But spoke they did, and I was just happy that their voices made such beautiful music on my ears.
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