I had woken up with a hangover. I had been worried and had drunk to forget my troubles . Now I was still worried and felt ill as well . I made my way to the police station. Dizzily I walked up the hill. Around a corner and up again I broke into a sweat. My head began to throb. I tried to rationalise the situation and convince myself I had nothing to worry about. I had to attend an interview about an accident to assess whether my actions had been reckless. I had driven out of a parking space and the back of my van had scraped the front end of a car. I had not stopped at the scene and driven into the town centre. The victim had reported the crime and my conspicuous green van had been easily traced. I had insurance and compensation had been payed but now the police wished to assess if they should press charges and an interview was required.
You walked up the hill looking uncomfortable. Dressed in clean casual wear you paused to take some deep breaths. You did not look in ill health and I surmised you were having a bad day. Again you stopped to compose yourself. Wiping your face with your hands did not take your worry away. Checking your watch helped you focus as you neared the bottom of the hill. Squinting in the bright sunlight you looked to your phone for directions. I watched, unobserved, from my shady cafe on the corner. A shiny new car gleamed as it smoothly passed by. Pleased to find your way you turned up the hill and soldiered on. Slowly you progressed. Pausing once or twice again you neared your destination. A gentle breeze cooled you a little as you turned into the driveway of the police station. A brief delay as you finally braced yourself before entering the building.
The buzzard gently spirals upwards on the warm thermal air current. His eagle eyes peruse the scene below. Later he will descend to hunt his lunch. A small town nestles into the countryside. The dense urban centre stretches out its tendrils into the forested landscape. A tiny speck exits the small square of a house. Moving slowly the dot pauses as it follows the thin line of a road towards the settlement. The man is of no interest to the hawk. Human activity is to be avoided. Introspective behavior curling into tight knots can snap with a loud explosion. In times gone by the birds of prey had been a favourite target for persecution. Now the badgers and foxes were suffering. The dot stops and starts as it slowly progresses. It turns a corner and at last disappears into a larger square building. More hawks join the rising air column and continue to ascend in the morning sunshine.