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Life is too short for boring stories

Softly Ontos beak touched the plumage of Logos. I held her, feeling the blood, but also the warmth of her body, and suddenly I realized that her heart was beating. Very weak, but unique. That’s what Onto wanted to tell me. I had to hurry. I went back as fast as I could and drove …

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Onto came and went as he pleased. Sometimes he flew along on our walks and disappeared again. It was nice to watch him, in his power and joy that gives the young life. In what intensity was it connected to life, it cost, scooped it up, without its current becoming less and less. On the …

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You get used to it. Onto had become part of our little family because we had become familiar, met and accepted each other in our respective so-being. „Just as you are,“ I said to myself,“ to supplement immediately, „and will become. In the one in which you are constant and in the one in which …

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The raven stalked upright through our living room on the evening of the day we found him and had him taken care of. He had no name at the time. I watched him. Pride was the perfect word for the way he traveled. From time to time he paused. Then he stood there. It seemed …

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… was winter. It had been snowing continuously since the early morning hours. So, it was a day when it was good to pick yourself up at home, if you could. There is enough to do. Again, and again my eyes wandered to the window to check if it had not finally eased a bit, …

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