A row of pigeons on the ledge of the tall yellow building I can see from the kitchen window. I can only see the top floor, rising above smaller buildings. A wan sunlight, that the pigeons are enjoying. Ginger cat appears in window, eyes the line of pigeons. I go to get the camera – by the time I get back the cat is on the ledge and only one pigeon remains. The cat moves slowly – it's a narrow ledge, high up, and it's slightly sloping, not level. The last bird flies off. Of course I only assume that the other birds flew away. Perhaps the cat knocked them off the ledge with its paw, one by one. How can I ever know? This ginger cat could be Schrodinger's cat's cousin, wearing its enigma in its ginger fur, delicately washing its paws clean of all pigeon traces....
So the sun came out but it had a sheen to it, a glitter, a veneer that felt almost artificial and I doubted I could trust this gloss-wearing sun. There were a few clouds but they looked fairly compliant and unmoving and they were to the north. But I sensed something unpredictable behind these clouds so seeming separate and innocent, and opted for a short excursion rather than the longer one I wanted to make, to a mountain in the south. So I ended up in some village in the lower slopes of Mount Pantokrator, and walked back to Ipsos, then headed for Dasia. The clouds above the mountain had thrown off their veils of innocence and looked entirely purposeful, and dark purple. I walked along the road to Dasia and found a bus shelter just as the rain began. It poured straight down, and I sang thanks to the little shelter. The schedule said a bus was due but I figured even if it wasn't coming this was the best place to be. The rain came in waves, like long breaths. It turned into hailstones. Just as it was easing off, the bus came, half an hour later than its due time but I could hardly believe my luck. First I'd found a shelter, then a bus. On the way back, the rain stopped. The pavements of Corfu town are dry. Except for the Esplanade which is soaked with sea spray.
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