Bright beams of Birdsong

The magpies used to greet me as I arrived at the beach shack, and as we left, they’d re-assert their place once more, striding back into the front garden. But they seem to have moved on down the road these days. In their place, we have the bullet-proof bodies of the currawong, beady-eyed, tough-beaked, sleek-winged, with their flash of white at the tail. They clatter like earthmoving machines on the tin roof and watch fiercely from the gutters.

They might be black and white, but they’re not my magpies. It seems our magpie family has moved on down the hill, and closer to the ocean…