Seasonal Migration

The final days of summer are here and the flocks of birds are roaming across the cloudless sky. As she quietly observes the seemingly random patterns of flight, I can read a muted sort of longing in Aurelia’s eyes; somehow, I cannot shake the feeling she understands something I clearly don’t.  ‘I chirikleski kul chi perel duvar pe yek than’, she murmurs. ‘…the droppings of the flying bird never fall twice on the same spot’ she continues, noticing my puzzled look. We both burst into laughter, although the message of hope for a better tomorrow is clearly sieving through.

For the rest of the day we continue the work on the roof structure, fixing the curved braces that will later support the polycarbonate sheets.





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