10/22/2026
Their names are Saker (7), Ali (6), Gahlid (4) and Sari (3). With my back seat fully loaded with the four giggling, chubby captains, I drive to my house. The car ride makes the guys a little less loud. When I look out into my rear-view mirror, I see faces beaming with joy and full of expectation. They make me happy. A few minutes later when we arrive at my home, we are all bummed the car ride is over.
The first time I took their picture I barely lasted 15 minutes. They drank cough syrup like lemonade, which made them jump around uncontrollably like bouncing balls. While one of them took my car key and threatened to throw it off the balcony, the other had suddenly confiscated my camera. Somehow, I managed to take a few pictures, but I was not really happy with them. So, we made a new appointment. Slow and steady wins the race.
Once we get to my house, I maneuver them from the rather busy road to my yard. They remind me of tame baby ducks - following me wherever I go, hungry for attention, twirling around me. I decide to take their picture on a floating raft. It is wobbly and they are not having it. The bold, loud boys of five minutes ago are gone as they have been thrown off their game, only making small squealing noises. Eventually I manage to get them all on the raft. I can barely breathe, afraid a bird - or anything, for that matter - will break their attention. We only last a few minutes. As soon as I have taken the picture, they run onto dry land and together we cheer with joy.
Since then, I regularly stop by their house, and they also come to mine. They always ask me: “Are you here to take our picture? Can we have another ride in your car? Are we going to your house?” Recently, Saker confessed that he had found the way to my house and sat in my yard briefly. Bit by bit, my home is also becoming the home of others.
Down by the Water, 2020-2021.
