Khalil lives in a house he squatted some years ago. It had stood empty for many years, its wood work blackened and rotting, after a fire raged through the old building and gutted most of it.
Once upon a time, before 1948, the building was home to a Palestinian family. It then became a synagogue, and after that a storage area for used car tyres. It was torched and then stood empty, a shell registered as property belonging to the Israel Land Administration.
Khalil moved in, after he was thrown out of his previous home and with him came a pair of wild little birds.

During the day they fly around and do their birdy things. At sunset, they return home, fly around a while in Khalil's high ceilinged living room, until they go to sleep in the nest they built underneath one of the heavy iron support beams.

Usually they move around as a pair. However, sometimes, one of the birds comes home alone and waits for its partner. Occasionally the single bird will sit there for hours, alone, waiting, singing, until its partner returns.
Together they'll move into the living room, fly around and while and go to rest in their small nest. Day after day, the same routine. A peaceful routine. A simple life. Nature's course.

Undoubtedly like some of the birds in the Gaza strip.