Panama, Casco Antiguo
Do you remember Jonathan Livingston Seagull? in Spanish it is called Juan Salvador
Gaviota, the book from Richard Bach. It is one of those books you get to read by the
same time you are reading The Little Prince and dreaming about flying to planets and
protect beautiful but arrogant roses or learn about life through a feathered friend.
This morning it felt like a scene from Jonathan Livingston Seagull. The sky was a
beautiful plomb color, the air felt almost chilli. Hundreds of seagulls flying over
the roof catching all sorts of things for breakfast. A bit of rain still falling,
but not enough to carry an umbrella. We call that “bajareque”. I stood there, just
watching this silent, beautiful dance for a few minutes. It was really peaceful.
I had this literature teacher (almost out of the Dead Poets Society movie) that said
that every day was beautiful no matter what and it had to be cherished. She would
storm into the classroom on a gloomy day like this (which I naturally enjoy, but others
may not) and ask us to write a poem in whatever style we might be studying at the
moment about the “beautiful day” we were living at. The idea was to appreciate each
day for itself as each day had an inherit beauty that would never be really repeated.
I remembered her this morning, while thinking about the seagulls, Jonathan Livingston
and how lucky I felt to be here, now.
