Birds in flight

Sitting in Wolof class, the unusally dark sky for the time of day caught my eye. My attention shifted from the salutations written in Wolof on the washboard to the view out the door as the darkening sky consumed what little was left of daylight. At first, one, then flocks, of birds filled the sky. Their foreboding presence grew larger as they flew closer in our direction. Madame Sow followed my line of vision and asked "est-ce qu'il va pleurir?" As I described the rapidly fleeing birds, the trees maybe half a mile down the row started to toss violently in the wind. Just as the birds made their way over us, i heard a large crashing sound. As we turned to see the window shattered, my head jerked the opposite direction as the door slammed shut by that same powerful force of wind. We all did our "oohs" and "ahhs" and then marvelled at the broken glass on the chair of the girl sitting next to me. After we concluded that she was not hurt--not even a scratch, both she and i moved our chairs away from the broken window to the other end of the table. Madame Sow continued on with phrases in Wolof and we resumed repeating her every word. And like that, we continued class as if the birds never fled, as if glass didn't break, as if the door did not slam-- as if academia could shelter us from the violent winds waiting to greet us for our walk home.