an untrained eye
La Joueuse de Flûte
So there’s me, minding my own business, walking along the lake, when this woman shows up. She sits down on a bench, opens her bag, and pulls out a flute. A flute. When I see her open the bag, I’m thinking maybe a sandwich, maybe a book. But no. A flute. And she starts to play it. Just bits and pieces of tunes. Something a bit classical, something a bit jazz-like, maybe fifteen or twenty seconds of one thing and then she moves on to something else.
So I’m thinking this is pretty cool, listening to bits of flute music. Then this swan walks up. I’m just standing there staring now, because how often do you see a woman playing a flute with a swan for an audience? The swan looks at her for a moment, looks at me for a moment, then looks out toward the lake. Like he’s waiting for something, like the swan thinks the woman is playing the flute to call some sort of lake creature from the depths. So I start watching the lake too. In case the swan knows something I don’t.
Then the woman stops playing and puts the flute away. She stands up and leaves. The swan sees the show’s over and he leaves too. And there’s me, standing around like some sort of mope, all by myself, wondering what the hell just happened.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
