It was the orange glow in the far distance that i noticed first. the clock barely making 22.00pm and just showered; wet hair and dressing gown on. i opened the kitchen window to see whether the rain had stopped. i was hoping to take a walk, feeling quite stuffy on the third day of isolation.
What i can see from this particular window in the apartment are the neighbouring hills stretched out in the near distance. The sun had set a good few hours earlier but there is always this light, filling the gap between the dark silhouette hills running along the horizon and the clouds, just above, that hug each peak individually.
And that’s when i noticed the orange glow. From where i stood the glow was small, but, considering the distance between us, it was unusually big. i remembered noticing the binoculars earlier on in the day, tied to the key holder in the room next door. i grabbed them and returned to the kitchen window. Leaning out into the midst of the dark scene, elbows leaning on the outer edge of the sill, i took a closer look.
What looked like a few metres from the eye were the flickering of lights, each clustered into small pockets of my vicinity. Not many, but enough to be towns or villages, with a few dotted in the hills surrounding. Once I had adjusted the binoculars, the very distant glow that i had subconsciously suspected a bonfire came into view. It wasn’t quite a bonfire, i could tell that what i thought and still think a fire was almost separated into 4 or 5 smaller fires, all clustered together, like lanterns. And just above, what looked like a big cloud of smoke.
After looking at this image for a few minutes, trying to bring out more details, i realised the smoke wasn’t moving. Perhaps it were the binoculars, or the fact that i really was, quite far away. But I’m certain I’d have been able to see the smoke drift up into the air. Just like i could see the village flickering every now and then. It was just this solid image of something glowing red, and this solid patch of grey. And if, from my kitchen window, I could see this glow. From there it must have been something quite spectacular. I’m just not sure what. My thoughts went back to lanterns when i put the binoculars away.
I stayed for a while, head further out the window, shoulders resting on arms. The longer i stayed, the more my senses were heightened. or perhaps it was natures way.
It started with the clouds. My location is quite high up in the hills, distant from even villages. On these days of rain, the clouds are low, much below us and hanging above the flickering lights. There’s little you can see at this time of night; no light pollution, no city heat, no anything but pure nature and fellow wonderous inhabitants.
Initially my senses were accustomed to the flickering lights, the outline of trees, the curves of the hills and the clouds not far behind. But as i watched, for a minute or so, this very faint tone of grey appeared in my sight, just hanging around. I realised it was there the whole time, just something I hadn’t put my mind to, until i stayed.
The longer i stayed, observing this fine view, the closer the clouds came to me, and the lighter it became. In fact, when i first noticed this change in movement, i felt a mild wave of anxiety come over me. was i scared of the cloud?
i then noticed movement to the left of me. That’s when i picked up on the sense of sound.
Again, i couldn’t quite work out what i was hearing. My initial instinct were wild boar, as they often explored around here, curious to our vegetable garden. But i was only going off assumption. It was like a rustling sound. But the harder i listened, the louder the raindrops dropped and the fuzzier the distinction became.
Next to my right was a metal box hanging from the wall, and every half a second a raindrop would land right on top, affecting my concentration.
And suddenly, something had shifted. Everything felt just the tiniest bit louder; the rain on the box, the wind through the trees, this mysterious rustling and the heavy silence that hung in my throat, flooding me with another wave of anxiety.
Perhaps my anxiety is what i’m hearing.
i can see a singular of wild boar in my head, making their way through the trees and finding me, torso out the window. them seeing me before i see them. Was i scared of the wild boar? Or was it even an animal i was thinking of?
The observing turned into waiting, and it wasn’t doing me any good. i took a break. running the tap and drinking a glass of cold water to cool down the heat in my chest.
i gave it one last go, more to ease my mind and find a rational solution to this particular sound. i listened for a minute more.
