Things that fall from the sky
A brass Tibetan bowl stands on a small table in the house. Inside it, unable to mount its sides, was a scorpion.
Odd enough. I slid it out onto a step outside (a neighbouring villager termed this Pyrenean place ‘the beautiful village of the river and stairs) and watched it clim down the step then work its way into a hole in a wall.
All odd enough. Maybe it was having a go at crossing the ceiling and fell off. The walls here are thick, composed of large blocks of granite and limestone and random mortar. Bats zoom in and out of them.
Then today, like one of the skinks who also inhabit these walls, I was sitting outdoors at lunchtime to warm up in the sunshine. My newspaper (a week old Tribune) lay on the wall in front of me. Then splat. A worm landed on it.
Tell me, how come?
I slid it into the strip of earth that holds the rose tree, which valiantly has returned from a waterless summer to offer red roses round the windows.