Under the Wings of the Flamingos: an Adventure in Vendicari

My name’s Milo, and that day I could tell right away that my human had something different in mind.

I knew it from the trunk: big backpack, water bottle, camera. When he takes all that stuff, it means we’re going on an adventure.


We arrived at a place called Vendicari Nature Reserve.

“An oasis,” he said, like it was something magical.

And I thought: finally, a place where I can sniff around in peace without hearing horns or crackling exhaust pipes.


As soon as I jumped out of the car, a whole new world entered my nose: sea salt, warm earth, and something sweet… maybe dried figs left too long in the sun.

I tried to follow one scent, but every time I thought I’d found it, another one came along and pulled me somewhere else.


Then, while my human was busy taking pictures of a lizard (don’t ask me why), I caught a new smell.

An elegant one.

Yes, elegant — like the kind of perfume that makes you stand taller and wag slower.

I lifted my nose and saw them: flamingos.

A whole group of them, pink and serious, balancing on one leg.

I can’t even stand still on three.


I walked closer, step by step.

The water smelled a bit like seaweed, but also like sky — if that makes sense.

One of the flamingos looked at me, then turned its head away as if to say, “Don’t bother us, land-dog.”

Rude.


My human, on the other hand, was thrilled.

He took pictures like he’d just met the Beatles.

I just sat down and watched.

Every now and then one of them flapped its wings, and the air turned a little pink.

I’m not kidding — I saw it change color.


Then suddenly, all together, they lifted off.

A rush of wings, a wave of air, and they were flying right above us.

I froze, my mouth half open.

They looked like clouds with legs.

I almost howled, but I didn’t. Some things are better kept inside.


When the sky turned quiet again, my human patted my head.

“Did you see them, Milo?” he whispered.

And I thought: Yes, but did you feel them?

Because under the wings of the flamingos, for one perfect moment, everything smelled like silence.

And trust me — that’s the rarest scent of all.

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