flapping its embryonic wings.
Andrea managed to catch the bird just as it reached the water’s edge. She held its warm, plump body in her hands. Its little black head turned to her, and then it started nipping at her hand with its sharp beak, which really hurt. She was annoyed that no one had told her to wear gloves. She hurried over to one of the tables where four researchers were busy weighing, measuring and taking DNA samples from the birds that were caught, before tagging them. She was told to put the bird into a cage that stood nearby, and then go back for another. More and more baby birds were dropping from the sky, which made Andrea think about the American film
Magnolia
, which she and Sam had seen a few years back. At the end of the movie frogs started raining down from the heavens. She had the same apocalyptic feeling now.
Nearly all the birds survived the fall because of their round shape: their bodies were like little airbags.
It was intense work. Everyone moved frenetically to catch as many birds as possible, and they soon shed their sweaters and jackets. One bird struck Andrea on the shoulder and another her head. Her friends ran around like lunatics in the dim light. Beata kept uttering little cries whenever tiny balls of fluff thudded down near her slender legs clad in purple-flowered wellingtons. Off in the distance, among the boulders in the most difficult and least accessible places, she glimpsed Sam’s tall form. He was crawling around, trying to reach the birds that landed in the crevices. She paused to watch her husband for a while. Tomorrow she was planning to surprise him with the trip she had booked to Florence.
What a wonderful time they were going to have.
MORNING DAWNED OVER Stora Karlsö, and after a solitary breakfast, Jakob Ekström headed down to the beach near Hienviken. Yesterday he had left his windsurfing gear there, in an outbuilding intended for that purpose. The forecast said the weather was going to deteriorate later in the day, so he wanted to be sure to go out while it was still nice. The sun was shining, and so far the wind conditions were perfect.
Moving quickly and efficiently, he prepared his gear at the water’s edge and put on his wetsuit. The water was still so cold that it wasn’t wise to stay in for very long.
The bay was quiet and peaceful. Not a soul in sight. The people staying in the nearby cabins were apparently still asleep. He looked at his watch. Nine fifteen. It was high time to get started.
He waded into the water and then hopped up on his board, letting the wind fill the sail. Jakob felt the familiar rush in his stomach as the board picked up speed, racing forward and going faster the further out he went. The speed made his eyes water, and an almost euphoric sense of joy streamed through him. He laughed aloud and hollered into the wind. This is better than anything, he thought.
Clouds were gathering on the horizon, but for now they were staying away.
After an hour of invigorating windsurfing, he was quite a distance out from where he’d started, drifting far from land. His wetsuit felt cold against his body, and his arms were beginning to tire. The weather was rapidly getting worse. It had grown significantly darker, and from far offhe heard a thunderclap. It crashed across the sky. He needed to go back. He turned his board and caught sight of the bird mountain. The steep limestone cliffs plunged straight down to the sea, and on the ledges he glimpsed the swarms of black birds. He gave a start and almost lost his grip on the boom when a seal’s head popped up from the water right next to him. The seal gave him a surprised look and then disappeared again. He remembered that the chief ranger had said that a porpoise had been sighted off the island a few days ago.
Suddenly he realized that he was getting too close to the rough, inaccessible shore with the huge, jutting boulders that were like barriers, keeping away all unwelcome visitors. He’d heard
Andrea managed to catch the bird just as it reached the water’s edge. She held its warm, plump body in her hands. Its little black head turned to her, and then it started nipping at her hand with its sharp beak, which really hurt. She was annoyed that no one had told her to wear gloves. She hurried over to one of the tables where four researchers were busy weighing, measuring and taking DNA samples from the birds that were caught, before tagging them. She was told to put the bird into a cage that stood nearby, and then go back for another. More and more baby birds were dropping from the sky, which made Andrea think about the American film
Magnolia
, which she and Sam had seen a few years back. At the end of the movie frogs started raining down from the heavens. She had the same apocalyptic feeling now.
Nearly all the birds survived the fall because of their round shape: their bodies were like little airbags.
It was intense work. Everyone moved frenetically to catch as many birds as possible, and they soon shed their sweaters and jackets. One bird struck Andrea on the shoulder and another her head. Her friends ran around like lunatics in the dim light. Beata kept uttering little cries whenever tiny balls of fluff thudded down near her slender legs clad in purple-flowered wellingtons. Off in the distance, among the boulders in the most difficult and least accessible places, she glimpsed Sam’s tall form. He was crawling around, trying to reach the birds that landed in the crevices. She paused to watch her husband for a while. Tomorrow she was planning to surprise him with the trip she had booked to Florence.
What a wonderful time they were going to have.
MORNING DAWNED OVER Stora Karlsö, and after a solitary breakfast, Jakob Ekström headed down to the beach near Hienviken. Yesterday he had left his windsurfing gear there, in an outbuilding intended for that purpose. The forecast said the weather was going to deteriorate later in the day, so he wanted to be sure to go out while it was still nice. The sun was shining, and so far the wind conditions were perfect.
Moving quickly and efficiently, he prepared his gear at the water’s edge and put on his wetsuit. The water was still so cold that it wasn’t wise to stay in for very long.
The bay was quiet and peaceful. Not a soul in sight. The people staying in the nearby cabins were apparently still asleep. He looked at his watch. Nine fifteen. It was high time to get started.
He waded into the water and then hopped up on his board, letting the wind fill the sail. Jakob felt the familiar rush in his stomach as the board picked up speed, racing forward and going faster the further out he went. The speed made his eyes water, and an almost euphoric sense of joy streamed through him. He laughed aloud and hollered into the wind. This is better than anything, he thought.
Clouds were gathering on the horizon, but for now they were staying away.
After an hour of invigorating windsurfing, he was quite a distance out from where he’d started, drifting far from land. His wetsuit felt cold against his body, and his arms were beginning to tire. The weather was rapidly getting worse. It had grown significantly darker, and from far offhe heard a thunderclap. It crashed across the sky. He needed to go back. He turned his board and caught sight of the bird mountain. The steep limestone cliffs plunged straight down to the sea, and on the ledges he glimpsed the swarms of black birds. He gave a start and almost lost his grip on the boom when a seal’s head popped up from the water right next to him. The seal gave him a surprised look and then disappeared again. He remembered that the chief ranger had said that a porpoise had been sighted off the island a few days ago.
Suddenly he realized that he was getting too close to the rough, inaccessible shore with the huge, jutting boulders that were like barriers, keeping away all unwelcome visitors. He’d heard
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