I had a high fever, a nasty cough, and the week had gone totally awry for several different reasons - you know, one of those periods of time that for some reason is loaded with ridiculously bad karma? I went out on the terrace and looked out onto the street. I missed Colombo a lot. Sometimes you miss something just because you're not there and you're here instead. I missed good company more than anything.
And then I saw them. They all appeared out of the blue. A few hours before sunset.
It was almost as though someone had summoned them, because they seemed to have just sprouted out into my vision from behind the tall fir trees. I lay down on a concrete bench with my head propped up on my palms and started counting them. Their tails reminded me of fish tails, and none of them made a sound. They were only about thirty feet above me.
These eagles didn't believe in the class divides of the sky and flew only a few feet above the crows and the sparrows. They didn't soar each alone, like you would imagine the haughty mighty eagle to do, but they seemed to move together in a huge flock. Even as a flock they didn't move in a straight line, they danced around each other in circular motion while slowly gliding with the breeze in one direction. There's some kind of pattern in the eagle-dance that I still haven't figured out. I might look away for one minute and look back and they'll suddenly have disappeared.
All 62 of them.