I woke up this morning, as I do most mornings out here, to the sound of birds greeting the day. Some mornings we sleep in so late the birds have already done their salute to the sun and are starting to look for some cool shade!
But today we’re due to go home, and I’m trying to milk as much out of the day as I can before we head out. Sitting on the veranda with my morning coffee, there’s a flock of small birds flitting in and out of the blackberry bush by the small dam, as they do every day – morning and evening. It’s their playground and they always look like they’re having the time of their life – chirping away to each other, swooping and diving in and out of the blackberry bush like a game of chasing. Then they come to rest along the branches of the dead tree, B – A – R.
There’s a lot of birds out here. Parrots, swallows, cockatoos (black and white), galahs, swallows, magpies, crow and other birds I can’t identify. I’m really going to have to get myself a bird watchers book because I keep asking Doc what they are, and he responds – every time – “birds”. I should have learned by now!
When we were on the Cape last year (or the year before now!) we laughed at all the “oldies” with their bird books. We’re still resisting getting the grey nomads credentials, but the time is really getting closer.
I hate packing up to come home and put it off as long as I can. Given the number of times we come out to the farm you’d think we’d have the packing down pat by now. Not only does Doc usually forget something we need when we come out, but packing up always seems to take so long!
Not only do we have to pack up all the stuff that we brought out with us, but everything has to be cleaned as well – fridge, stove, cupboards, etc – with not a crumb left to attract “critters”. As you might gather from the “country shed” foundations that will withstand an earthquake, Doc likes to make sure everything is done properly. This means that he goes around after me, sweeping, wiping and cleaning what I’ve just done. He is getting better – he’s starting to accept that after more than 30 years of living away from home (I was only 5 when I moved out!), and raising 3 children and looking after a house on my own (well, until I could afford a cleaner to do it for me), I can probably wash a few dishes and sweep a floor all by myself.
But finally, we’re all packed up and on our way – in the heat of the day.
Driving through the farm we come across the huge flock of crows that’s been hanging around since we got here. Like the flock of birds this morning, there’s an eagle hanging around, only this time it’s the crows banding together to chase it away.
So the predator becomes the prey. Nature really isn’t very nice.