Deconstructing the Belfry

Do you ever feel like having company while simultaneously being by yourself?

Silence is key to relaxation for many of us, but having the presence of someone, or something, nearby makes that quality time all the better.

It's that mutual desire of seclusion and relaxation with a sense of community that some people crave.
This creates a paradox, yes, but why do we do it? Why sit by ourselves in a park full of people?
A sense of mutual understanding, perhaps? Maybe it's subconscious need for safety and non-overt inclusion while outwardly we need alone time?

This isn't a bad thing, by any means; it's just a little curious. Nature seems to have sent me winged companions of relaxation while I read, write, or just take some time out.

This cosy colony of bats decided to take residence under the thatch in my backyard. They're an understanding bunch, silent in the daytime and just as uncomfortable with the noises of the day as I am.

Since I'm lacking in wings (an unfortunate turn of events in life), I tend to wear a cape and hat while forced to mingle during daylight hours. These friends of mine have an innate sense of fashion, on the other hand.

Our relationship is one of mutual respect - a necessary trait to have in society, I think - without much prying, other than a "salam" or "hello, how do you do" upon meeting.

I get on with my goings-on, they with theirs. Their goings-on are mostly hiding their faces and swivelling hither-dither to check on my movements. The above individual even dropped from his perch once, landed on the table in front of me, proceeded to splay out his wings and do what can only be described as a jig before lifting off again clumsily to act like nothing of out of the ordinary had happened.