Safe in the trees, the crows watch the chooks finish their brekky. If Loki was here she would hawk-hurtle the hens and scatter them across the yard. She would glide to her favourite branch to sit and laugh. I’d laugh with her. But Loki is gone, and the rest of the crows mutter and wait. Continue reading “Torresian crow”
Loki was a crow and also my friend. She had a sense of humour – she would swoop the chooks to give them a fright, and hang around the BBQ to pinch stuff when my back was turned. I once tricked her by leaving a closed but empty egg carton on the BBQ table… she took it to her favourite branch and swore at me when she discovered what I had done… She limped home one day, badly injured, maybe by a car. I did try to help her, but she was afraid and upset when I approached, and still able to keep out of my reach – so I left food and water out and let her be. She died a few days later in the neighbours’ paddock. One of my daughters collected her skull for me a few months later.
The scrying stick I found while walking to work. My girls and I were reading Harry Potter at the time. The stick (and the books) provided a little magic in a pretty humdrum part of my life.
Port Macquarie is a classic family holiday place. Cliff rimmed, facing sunrise, plenty of pretty walks to be had… Some of the beaches are pebbly rather than sandy – unusual in Australia… The waves make the most beautiful shushing sound as they wash along these beaches.