The Bird Man

There are moments when, at the end of a heady evening, you take a step back from what you know and see it as new.

Elizabeth met John for the first time infront of a photocopier.  She told him he must be a left-handed 12 string guitarist (it's all in the nails).  And she married him.  That was forty years ago.

Renate is a German photographer who worked for Magnum back in the days. She bears the weight of a too soon dead child, but holds herself high and beautiful. She is 84 but looks 20 years younger.  

Elizabeth went back home for more wine and a bottle of Limoncello which was probably a mistake.

At midnight I tentatively wrapped Renate in a blanket, questionned my ability to climb up and down the minnoterie ladders to look for bits of old wood to light a brasero between Elizabeth and John.  I figuered I couldn't, gave up and let them all go home.

I watched as the three of them crossed the passerelle, arm in arm and laughing then sat back down in the debirs of a good evening, drank Limoncello and saw our room otherwise.