Music in the air

The sheep look miserable. The crows on the big chestnut tree look miserable too. Then they start to sing. I don’t know because I am not well-informed in crow circles, but the songbook for dull days published somewhere around the late 1660s seems not to do much help in cheering the crow crowds up. That’s a pity. Unfortunately crow songs have many verses and crows possess staying power when it comes to singing. They are not impressed not even by the barking dog, who now himself starts to intone a hymn for a solo dog in the style of an old madrigal, written somewhere in south-eastern Spain in the times when the great dog-massacres took place somewhere around the expulsion of the Moors. And indeed, his barking remembers all the long-lost generations of dogs, never ever to be forgotten. The crows look slightly impressed but not enough to stop their own polyphony chorus. The seagulls now incited themselves are gathering on the two neighbored rooftops, discussing their contribution. And the the party of the Irish dance fraction wins, they start with a long and quite rhythmic piece inspired by Astor Piazolla, who is quite popular among seagulls. Don’t say you never heard of this! And they do with success. More and more seagulls are joining, Astor always promises great craic. In the first row, the „Society of Tap-Dancing Seagulls“ appears ( if you want to join, they meet every Wednesday at 5PM, fee: two piece of salmon ( cut ) or one tuna steak ( whole ), meeting point: Read On’s roof, and start their dance performance. Oh, how nicely and synchronously their claws bang on my rooftop, how elegant their plumage swings, and oh, how enthusiastic they become, truly set on fire by the beat of the band, dancing faster and faster. The crows look at them in pure disgust. Ridiculous you can hear, but some crows look jealous as well. Such a nice tutu you can hear them whisper, would suit us as well as them. And the seagulls know, that the crows know. The sheep think they should exercise more too, they sigh deeply, maybe a match of cricket later this week, would do good for their shape. But not hockey, no hockey, no definitely not, that’s for sure. We are modest creatures, with have a sense of pride and modesty, shouts grandmother sheep from far behind, don’t forget your modesty. Grandmother sheep tends to forget sometimes that she herself in her younger years possessed not one, not two, but three LP’s of Astor Piazolla herself. The Queen of the sheep-floor she was called, but who are we to judge her? We, live ourselves with a queen and are well aware of their habits. And so we’re not much impressed that Queen Cat just yawns, when told that she missed quite an extraordinary concert. Just for a few minutes she listens to the heartbreaking song of the old dog. Dog massacre, so, so, you can hear her thinking, while walking up and down the shelves, wasn’t there quite a good article in the recent volume of “ Cats. Rule the world without a word?“

One thought on “Music in the air

  1. What a delight to read on my snowy Sunday morning: singing and dancing animals. Do these ideas come to you unbidden, Read On, or do you have to work at them? Either way, your mind is amazing.

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