Saturday morning ghost parade

On Saturday morning I was hanging around the apartment, studying a litte and napping a little when, at the stroke of 11:00, I heard church bells and music that sounded as if it was being made by a military band.

My first though was that someone was playing a news report about the funeral of Queen Elizabeth, but then I realized that the sound was live, coming from somewhere near the apartment. A band was playing a slow, mournful march. From the sound of it, they were approaching up my street.

I went onto the tiny balcony to see the band, but the street -- very unusually for this part of town -- is lined with trees, and I couldn't see them approach. Then they turned off on a side street before I could see them. So it was sort of a ghostly parade.

I knew I wasn't dreaming, though, because several other people on both sides of the street had come onto their balconies -- a man who lived a couple doors down, whom I haven't met, and across the street, an old lady here, an old man there, and a gorgeous young couple, very attractive, with her wearing underwear and a flimsy robe and him wrapped in a towel only. It was like a moment in a film where hidden things come suddenly into the light.

Here's a link to a short viedo I made: