The sun has already settled below the horizon when the soft light of dusk, bluish to be exact, is at its throes as night is starting to sweep in. I just came from a barbershop in downtown Zamboanga City, having my hair shorn like sheep’s and was trying to find a ride back to the hotel. There were a few tricycles passing the soon to be silent streets at such an early hour.
I crossed the street, walked a few meters, gazed up and in a scene almost like Hitchcock’s, a flock of swifts were settling in for the night, perching on the many electrical wires that crisscross above. It was a raucous, with their high pitched tweets competing with the occasional vroom of motors.
But at the same time, it was a surreal. Like a dream. And glad that these weren’t crows.