Darkness fell. We were all talking in hushed voices as we waited for it. Then a sound.
"Do you hear that?" my wife whispered to me.
"Darling, you know I am hearing impaired, of course I can't hear that!" was my somewhat annoyed reply. "What does it sound like anyway?"
"It's like a bicycle coming to a screeching halt followed by air escaping from a blown tire."
I tried to imagine that sound.
Then some movement. Flashlights were turned on. I peeped through my camera lens towards where the light was being directed.
"Do you see it?" It was my wife again, whispering.
"Yes, but all I am seeing is the butt," I answered also in a whisper. "And I'm having a hard time focusing!"
Then it was gone. We waited once more, conversing in soft murmurs. After a while the braking bicycle sound again filled the night. Flashlights were aimed at it but we still saw nothing but butt.
A change of tactic was formulated.
"Let us go to the other side. We should be able to get a better angle there," our host suggested.
So we did.
Finally, success! A full frontal view was obtained. The flashlight beams were sufficient enough for auto-focusing and an acceptable photograph. We uttered suppressed squeals of delight. There was happy talk, albeit in undertones, as we returned to our original spot.
I turned to my wife and asked, "Why are we whispering?"
"So as not to spook our quarry." was her logical answer.
"But we are standing next to a swimming pool with folks splashing around and talking in normal voices!"
A smile. Then silence.
Here is the result of so much whisperings in the dark:
Please see the blogs of our friends Trinket and Maia about the same subject of whisperings in the dark.
Manila idylls: Terns and Gulls of the Pasig River
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