The Birds (Not Hitchcock)

 

My good friend and I were in Insel Poel, an island in the north of Germany.

We'd spent the morning making Christmas decorations with the staff of the museum, our second trip. We'd been there a few months before to retrieve a painting my friend had loaned to an exhibition they had had.

Our goal this time was to learn more about the island and the sinking of a ship carrying Nazi prisoners from a nearby concentration time. I was planning to use the sinking by the British for my novel Murder on Insel Poel. My friend's fluency in German far surpassed my shopping German: she was an incredible help.

After a good German lunch of things we loved to eat from other times in Germany, we started to explore the gorilla-shaped island, and headed down a small road.

Loud chirping caught our attention. Looking, we discovered a tree full of tiny birds of an unknown species. I recognize robins, blue jays, pigeons, gulls, eagles, woodpeckers and vultures but mostly I can describe birds by color and as big, medium and little sized.

These birds were little. 

Suddenly the chirping stopped and those birds flying about the bush dived into the branches. Those already in the branches moved to the center.

We discovered the reason. Circling above, was a hawk (?) which we assumed was looking for his dinner. The little birds out waited him. Once the hawk (?) flew off, the birds emerged from their shelter and began chirping again.

It was a mini-drama worthy of TV without the pub. It was also one of those special moments to treasure the rest of our lives, an insight into the natural world we often forget when we are caught up in every day chores and activities.