The Conclave is progressing and with it the global anxiety grows. In Rome the faithful are crowded, in the editorial offices fingers tremble over the keyboards, and in St. Peter's Square reigns an expectant silence... interrupted only by the impassive squawk of a seagull.
There it is, at the top of the Sistine Chapel, planted next to the chimney as if it were part of the official apparatus of the conclave. With a penetrating gaze and the assurance of one who fears neither public opinion nor the cardinal's factions, the seagull observes.
How envious he is.
While inside glances are crossed, ballots are folded and votes are counted with bated breath, outside another rhythm reigns. That of the white wings that fly over the mystery. The seagulls do not understand two-thirds majorities or ecclesiastical tensions. They do not need a consensus to land with dignity on the highest tile of the The Vatican. No one filters or covers them. And when they perch by the fireplace, they do so with a disconcerting tranquility.
Is it an omen? Is it the dove of the Holy Spirit in its less subtle and more shrill version?
At every conclave, they reappear. In 2013 one made headlines for spending several minutes exactly by the fireplace minutes before the white smoke. Some joked, "She knew before we did." And why not? And why not? Perhaps, in their serene flight, they pick up on the vibrations of the Chapel. Sistine. Or maybe they're just looking for warmth... or a sloppy reporter's sandwich.
But in this age of conjecture, who hasn't wished, even for a second, to be one of them? To watch everything from above, with no pressure, no vote, no newsletters to write.
Meanwhile, the world holds its breath. Cameras focus on the roof. The networks boil with memes and conjectures. And they, majestic and irreverent, stroll among the clouds as if the future of Christianity were not decided right under their paws.
If there is one thing these seagulls remind us, it is that there is something profoundly human in not knowing, in waiting, in imagining.
Editor of Omnes. Previously, he has been a contributor to various media and a high school philosophy teacher for 18 years.