The Visitor Who Said Nothing – A New Encounter
From The Diary of Parallel Serendipity by Alex Család
👉 Visit: thediaryofparallelserendipity.com

Do you remember my earlier stories—
🕊️ The Visitor Who Said Nothing
and
🕊️ The Visitor Who Said Nothing – She Vanished Without a Sound, So I Went Looking for Her?

After sharing those moments, I kept thinking about them—especially the silent bird who sat still for over an hour and then disappeared without a trace. I reviewed the video footage I took and noticed something strange: I wasn’t alone. There was another bird nearby—a partner. If you look closely, you might see it too. That discovery left me wondering… Was this second bird lost? Was it looking for Mila—because she’s not here anymore?

For days I kept watching, hoping for another glimpse.

Then, just recently, something happened.

I was sitting on the front porch with my sister when she suddenly screamed, “Look!”
Across the road, walking ever so slowly with their long, graceful legs, were them. The same type of bird—what most people simply call long legs, but what I’ve come to think of as my friend Serendipity. They were walking away from my place, unhurried and calm. A car even stopped to let them cross the road, as if time stood still for them.

I rushed inside to grab my phone, hoping to record this strange return. My eyesight isn’t great at the moment—just six weeks ago I had cataract surgery, and it’s still too soon to get new glasses. That might explain why the video is a bit shaky—I struggled to focus, but my heart was steady.

I followed them. Just like before, when I got close enough, they stopped. Completely still. As if frozen. Watching. Waiting.

Now I find myself asking again:
Why me?
I’m not a bird watcher. I never was.
So why do these things keep happening to me?
Is it because of Mila?

I don’t know the answer. But I do know one thing: these birds—these visitors—keep returning. And each time, they leave a quiet message behind.

Maybe it’s not about watching birds at all.
Maybe it’s about being watched.
Maybe Serendipity hasn’t left me after all.