Flying over the lighthouse
I like to come up here and listen to the waves. Don’t you think it sounds like they’re singing? It’s also nice to take a break in the refreshing sea breeze after a few hours among the umbrellas on the sand.
Life on the beach is wonderful. I flit here and there, poking about, watching the tourists, listening to the different languages as people chat on the deck chairs and sun loungers, and playing with the dogs – who have their own special section of the sand – or the children, who smile whenever they see me approaching.
When I want a little peace and quiet, this is where I come. From the top of this old lighthouse, you can see the river flowing into the sea and try to work out the names of the towns and cities that light up on the horizon after sunset.
The old folk tell me that once there was just the lighthouse keeper here and no one else ever went inside. Nowadays I see lots of families who walk or ride their bikes here and have a rest before heading back to Bibione or into the pine woods, following roads that lead far away.
I also see people looking for marvellous creations in the art and photography exhibitions that this building by the sea loves to host. In the evenings, I often hear the cheerful sounds of concerts. They brighten up the summer and remind me that it’s the best season for celebrating.
The lighthouse tells me lots of stories. Don’t you believe that it can talk? I was forgetting that you humans struggle to hear the voices of the natural world and old places like this. With a little patience and practice though, you too could enjoy coming here to listen.
If I were you, I’d come early in the morning when the sun is rising behind the distant mountains. Watch the dunes and the waves, then say hello to the lighthouse when you get here and ask how it’s feeling. Don’t worry: you don’t have to ask out loud!
At first it might not answer, but you can always go for a look around the nearby pine woods. You might spot the odd roe deer popping out from behind the old pine trees.
As the days go by, the lighthouse will gradually open up to you, just as it has now been opened to visitors. It will start to tell you stories as simple as life by the sea. It will talk about storms, little fishing boats being wrecked, logs coming down from the mountains and swans like stately sailing boats that let the current carry them along. It will tell you tales of love that bloomed right at its feet and point out every single one of the stars, which it has been watching for years.
I often listen to these stories and I never grow tired of them. Then a gust of wind will blow in from the sea and I’ll take to the sky, fly back to the beach and join the other sparrows boldly hopping between the umbrellas.