Whistling
Yesterday on our way back home from the Mediterranean Steps down from the Rock of Gibraltar we walked through a dark empty hall between closed shops.
As I was curious about the resonance of the hall and in a good mood I started whistling a melody.
As we reached the ground floor, there was another melody responding to mine and it was neither one of us.
Leaving the building, there was a guy sitting in a bar who had started whistling.
It made me really happy.
Walking through the Grand Casemates Gate, two British Police Officers with their funny helmets walked in front of us.
One of them was whistling a melody under the arch of the gate and I joined his melody with a second voice. I was even more happy.
It felt as if the happiness accumulated over the day had found a trigger for its release.