Aquarell by Antonio Pisanello (1430–1440).
After hours of noisey work with the new motor scythe cleaning first parts of the perimeter of our land to finally fence off the motorized thrill seekers I took a break and as I sat down, two slow flying birds, kind of small, but with big, round, black and white stripped wings came slow flying towards me from the other side of our little valley. They sat down right on the first branch above me and made relly strange, to me unknown noises, while their head feathers where pointing upwards in bright orange. Their beaks where long and skinny and I felt reminded of woodpeckers but their exotic Gestalt and sounds where almost surreal. Suspended in this intense moment of hypnotic wildlife right in front of my eyes, I remained paralysed, gazing at these two creature right above me.