The Blackbird on the Beam. A true story from Elle Vidaβs terrace
It began, as most sacred things do, without announcement.
A blackbird took up his post across from my balcony β not hidden in leaves, not lost in trees, but perched on an iron bar jutting from a half-built structure, the skeleton of a future apartment block still wrapped in dust and noise.
He stood tall, his chest proud, and he sang. Morning and evening. Two days in a row.
The first time, I laughed. What a bold little creature, I thought β singing above the drills, the jackhammers, the unrelenting pulse of construction. But then it happened again. And again.
And once, he woke me β at five in the morning. His voice broke the silence like a ritual trumpet, sharp and ancient. He sang from the beam as if the city were his stage, as if he had something to say before the world woke up.
And still, he returned. Always to that same iron bar β as though it was meant for him, forged for this exact purpose: a perch in the ruins from which a single creature could remind me what it meant to keep singing, even when surrounded by scaffolds and cement.
I began to expect him. To long for him. To watch his shadow fly past and feel my heartbeat soften. And when he didnβt come, I missed him like a piece of myself had wandered away.
At first, I thought I was witnessing nature. But now I know β he was witnessing me.
This is what Iβve come to understand:
Some of us are building something β even when no one sees. Some of us are singing into unfinished spaces, trusting that beauty belongs even amid the noise.
The construction site became a mirror. The blackbird, a guide. And I? I was the one still doubting my voice while standing on my own balcony of becoming.
But not anymore.
π―οΈ Mantra:
Even in the chaos, I sing. Even in the dust, I rise. I am the blackbird on the beam. And my song is becoming my home.
If you ever find yourself surrounded by noise, invisible in the midst of your own efforts β remember the blackbird. He doesnβt wait for the building to be finished. He sings from the steel.
So should you.
β Elle Vida β¨ From the Mirror Box
β¨ Sparklebox Toolbox β¨
Each story invites a soft step toward your becoming. Hereβs a tool aligned with todayβs reflection to support your journey.
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β¨ If youβve ever felt like a voice in the noiseβkeep singing. The Dreamscape hears you. More Mirror Tales await in Sparklebox.