EVENING MAGPIE

'...and thrush, through the echoing timber, does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing...' Gerard Manley Hopkins.

When I left the UK, I missed the songs of thrush and blackbird, so evocative of English summer evenings. Now fortunately, another bird has made me welcome in Australia.

The evening Magpie that visits our half acre at dusk 'rinses' my ear. He demands that I stop what I am doing and listen to his call. I can see him from the kitchen window. He is standing in the centre of the garden, head flung back, beak open and eyes on the sky. He embarks on a cadence of warbling, gradually other magpies return his call. A flutter of wings and half a dozen birds land beside him. They strut and cock their heads to one side, peering at the ground for insects and grubs.

They know that after rain, worms rise under the pea straw I have used as mulch on garden beds. Hopping over low chicken wire fences, they flick at the straw with their beaks, uncovering an evening meal.

Dog meanwhile has seen me looking out the window and understands that something must be happening in the garden. Unbeknownst to me he has gone outside to investigate. As I watch, I see him slink around the corner of the house, tail up and head lowered. He stalks the birds and then races towards them. With angry squawking and a wild beating of black and white wings, they take to the tree tops.

Dog sits and fixing his eye on one bird, raises his head and howls.

DELUGE

Sometime ago I wrote about glorious cleansing rain (see here). Recently we had a similar downpour and strangely enough my reaction was totally different.

This time, the sight of water dripping through the kitchen ceiling, left me feeling somewhat aggrieved and weary. Outside, the world looked wonderful. Fresh and green, the scents of a wet garden drifted in through the windows. Usually I am entranced and welcome such precious water. This time, not so.

I could not stop thinking of the damage occurring up there in the roof. I had lost my newly found Australian stoicism. The number of towels used to catch the drips grew. My frustration level crept up the dial and hovered in the 'danger' section. Why? What was different this time? If this was all I had to concern me, then I was indeed fortunate.

Walking with hound one morning, my thoughts all over the place, I realised why. The leak had over-ridden my usual joy in rain. I had lost the wonder and stalled, my gears crunching and groaning at the base of that steep hill called property ownership. Once I understood, it did not matter any more. The Bear is looking for a builder to repair the roof while we save some money to replace the tiles with tin.

Ah, the sound of rain on a tin roof.

(Have just re-read all this.....Polly-anna eat your bleeding heart out!)

STOP

No inspiration or inclination.

Full stop.

Time for a break.

Back in a couple of weeks.

YELLOW

There is a sonnet by Edna St Vincent Millay, that contains the line:-
'A yellow darkness, sinister of rain.'

As I sit here at 4pm, the cloudy sky is gradually turning yellow. This strange light is indeed a for-warning of rain and St Vincent Millay captured the essence of the phenomenon so well in that one line. A wash of dim yellow over everything. Tree leaves seem green/gold. Brick work becomes a subtle fusion of honey tones. The path outside the window is now a dusky pink and terracotta pots on the porch steps have become a rich ochre red.

A favourite time of day this. The sun, going down is low enough to shine through the peppermint eucalypt on the fence line and cast rays across the garden. These trembling shafts of light dance up and down the yellow bricks of the porch and sparkle on the copper bird feeder. I could take no photograph to do it justice.

Now the sky turns grey. Clouds are black lined and Magpies start a cacophony of warbling. It feels as though something is about to happen. Prescience.

There are no thunderbolts or storms, just the ordinary occurrences of a garden. Birds visit the birdbaths, leaves fall, treetops sway, a small black lizard basks in a last wavering patch of sunlight. The rain, when it falls is in large fat droplets and lasts less than five minutes.

When I look again, the lizard has gone.

KNIGHT

Tentatively, he offered to help. I thanked him and accepted.
As he bent to the task, his arms showed their tattoos, his nails the grime of his working day.
Jumping on the wheel brace he removed the nuts and as I held out my hand to take them, he hesitated, before placing them carefully in my palm.
"My hands are dirty, sorry."
"No worries." I replied.
I could not have undone those wheel nuts and again I thanked him for his kindness.
" Well, I wouldn't have wanted my wife to be left in this situation."

Grace, honour and dignity.
A knight in his white ute.

OCTOBER 1st

Chiefbiscuit of AS IT HAPPENS blog has tagged me.

Using Wikipedia find out what has happened on my birth day throughout the centuries. Here goes:-

THREE EVENTS

In 959, Edgar the Peaceable became King Of England. I chose this because he sounded like a reaonable person to be a King ( I am not a Monachist), I liked his name and his Mistress also had a wonderful name.......Wulfthryth.

In 1964, The Free Speech movement was launched at the University of California. How could I not choose this? The information provided makes for interesting reading.

In 1969, Concorde broke the sound barrier for the first time. Having seen this aeroplane, I can attest that to my eyes, it was beautiful.

TWO BIRTHDAYS

In 1959 ( my birthday year), Youssou N'Dour the Senegalese singer was born. I have long enjoyed his music and stunning voice.

In 1910, Bonnie Parker ( of Bonnie and Clyde fame) was born. Wikepedia provided fascinating reading.

ONE DEATH

In 1768, Robert Simson died. A Scottish mathematician. I consider myself mathematically dyslexic and am in awe of anyone who can work with numbers.

ONE HOLIDAY

World Vegetarian Day. Apparently celebrated every 1st October.

I tag Knowleypowley Josephine Bear Tall Girl and Helen. So, go on and find 3 people who share your birthday, 2 events ditto, 1 death ditto and 1 holiday ditto.

FOOLERY

This is the day upon which we are reminded of what we are on the other three hundred and sixty-four.

Mark Twain