"He smiled at me and pointed at the sky. He made flapping motions with his arms more and more slowly as the wings of the bird he was imitating closed around his body and it landed on the rim of the bird bath. He turned his head, then stretched it forward as though to drink. His hands fluttered once again; his arms made flying motions; the bird flew away.
I applauded. He danced in triumph and then, making little clucking sounds that may or may not have been Polish words, he shook the snow from a bush nearby and motioned for me to look closely at what he was doing as he put his hands together beneath his chin, then gradually widened them. I caught on and kicked some snow away from the ground. The earth looked like iron."
~ Paula Fox
"Children of the Tatras"
The Coldest Winter: A Stringer in Liberated Europe
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/106394.The_Coldest_Winter
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