A Mosquito as Witness in the Aviary

There are moments in the field that cannot be planned or repeated. Omar Enrique Berdugo Cabeza was alone in aviario N°2 when he found them: a pair of guacamayas caught up in that slow, ancient language of courtship — that exchange of glances and gentle touches that birds practice without hurry. He pulled out his phone and began to record. That was when the mosquito appeared. It didn't come to bother or to interrupt — it came to drift, with a calm that has no business belonging to an insect of its size. It circled the pair in precise, almost calculated movements, and Omar watched it and thought what anyone would have thought: that's no mosquito, that's a drone. A tiny, buzzing witness that someone might have sent to document the moment. Nature is like that sometimes: it gives you the scene you were looking for, and then, as a gift, sends you something you never expected. The guacamayas carried on with their business, indifferent to the observer and the intruder alike. Omar recorded everything, held his silence, and let the aviario do its work.