three ducks flying

The cat is attentive, and excited today. It follows into the bathroom, it is curious. The hiss at the shower makes it flee.
Take fresh clothing from the wardrobe, get dressed for the day, check that all the items are laid dut on the little table by the hall. The watch. the glasses, the keys and the wallet. Then go into the kitchen to feed the cat.

Walk through the town. It is cooler today, cloudy. There are pigeons, scavenging for food, flying across the red dawn sky visible between the houses.
Walk slowly, the hard work of the last few days has left exhaustion in the bodily functionss, it has left tired muscles behind.
See the bog cotton man ahead, pass a flower display. Some vandal has up­rooted flowers, and left them scattered on the pavement. Wish the bog cotton man his good morning, see that dolores is being upbraided by the stumpy turkish man again. He goes, wish her good morning too.
The bus driver, the fare, and the bus ride. It is only one point seven kilometres to the railway station.

There, the smoker awaits his greeting in the middle of the square.

The platforms number seven and eight have now been removed entirely, there are just heaps of gravel and some huge construction machines there now.
Much later, about ten minutes on- From the carriage of the train, watch three ducks chase high across the sky, zig-zagging in clumsy flight, to suddenly dive down behind a line of trees in the distance.

Why three? And why all these strange aerial manoevres?


When the train has arrived in Moosburg watch the people board the train, watch them turn into passengers. They greet each other, "moing", a shortened form of 'guten Morgen.

The landscape outside bn green and fresh, still with a light fog. The rain yesterday evening has made it all fresh, has saturated the various shades of green in the chlorophyl in the different plants.