It is noon to afternoon, a relatively warm September.
The clouds darken the landscape, where the humidity dims more.
The rain has just stopped.
Few masked figures pass like hurried shadows behind me.
The beach is empty.
Only the seagulls remained.
Across the horizon the ocean and the sky became one.
One can see scattered lights there, which look like huge fires.
The strong smell of algae washed away by the ocean and the sounds of birds create a strange atmosphere.
The storm is approaching very – very slowly.
Its dreadful distant sound is filled with the voices and fluttering of birds.
In this desert landscape, in this time of desolation, only the world of birds remained!
In their intense concern, I detect a bad omen.