WEIRD SCENES OFFSET OUR PLEASURES: BERLIN

the hawk

On the way home from riding with Daughter to school, this morning, I received a call from Beloved Wife using an unusually squeamish voice. A hawk was dead in our garden! I’ve had to deal with eternity-shocked (extravagantly plump) pigeons, in our garden, before… but a hawk?

I call it “our” garden but it’s Wife’s grand project; she found a place, with a private garden, for us to move into (right around the corner from the medical practise of my intense Persian ex… into whom we bump all the time… one of those Novel coincidences) and Wife cultivated the large-ish space to a high level of cozy and colorful Nature so eye-grabbing that fat pigeons and hawks come here to breathe their last. Beloved Wife raises the flowers and I bury the birds.

bw-DSC_0714
BELOVED WIFE: Second Marriages are often BEST and BEST is LAST

 

 

Our… no, Wife’s… Garden in the foggy Fall; this is the corner Hawk chose to plummet to (to the right of this, Wife grows grapes, raspberries and raspberry-sized tomatoes and potatoes):

garden-DSC_5782

Only fellow Berliners appreciate the good luck of having a large-ish private garden; Americans are used to big houses and large yards with high fences around them. Only at a tastefully-constrained scale do Life’s subtlest pleasures really pop, I think, and only with the occasional reminder of the End of the World… this time, the note came courtesy of a hawk… does Life remind us to really pop, too.

 

 

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR [letters are vetted for cogency and style]

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s