SUN31May, two thousand and twenty.
Thw walk up the hill is completed, now up at the small zoo, the one with the farm animals and the deer, all in their enclosures.
There are people about, all taking their children for Sunday walks.
Too many people, talking to their children in loud voices, some using silly sounding baby
talk, all with a strong bavarian accent.
Move, follow the path to the park bench under the tulip tree. The morning is darkening, there is soft grey cloud everywhere.
Listen to the bees and the calls of the children.
In the town, the church bells sound. It is ten thirty six, perhaps there is a service. Accordint to the pastor, the churches are so badly attended that social distancing will make no difference to the attendance figures.
Move, follow the path to the park bench under the tulip tree. The morning is darkening, there is soft grey cloud everywhere.
Listen to the bees and the calls of the children.
In the town, the church bells sound. It is ten thirty six, perhaps there is a service. Accordint to the pastor, the churches are so badly attended that social distancing will make no difference to the attendance figures.
People pass, the old ones say their
'gaits gott," , 'the young ones do not.
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