Morning sunshine is sneaking onto the front verandah, erasing memories of recent cold, gloomy days. As is my want at such a time, I’m outside, wrapped warmly and seated, expectant, waiting for the daily Magpie Chorus to start.
On queue, they arrive. There’s a bit of jostling; four, five, now six members executing some preliminary circle work, then undercarriages deploy, dropping down onto the power pole’s crossbar. Immediate carolling acknowledges successful perches!
As a youngster, my Gran tells me that six magpies herald ‘…gold in the offing …’ In this instance, it’s maybe the gold-trimmed, fluffy clouds disappearing into the west.
One bird lifts off, there’s a tiff, a squabble that has necks taut, all straining upwards into the day’s soft light, raucous chortles, a competition to outdo each other. A moment’s quiet, and then they are aflight, swooping, skylarking. I go and make another coffee. These performances set the tone for my day!
With a long black, stiffened with a nip of whiskey, I breathily whistle along as Classic FM play Purcell’s Trumpet Voluntaire. I resume my seat and sip, reflectively.
The kids will be here shortly. I have promised to take them across to the playground later. It’s also LSD (Lolly-Shop Day). I’ll need to load their wallets, each with a gold coin. Where can I scrounge coins?
I take another slurp and continue to ponder what, if any further gold the maggies might be offering. I make a mental note to include a new can opener on the shopping list: the old one finally gave up the ghost last night, trying to open the tinned dolmades. The sunshine suggests it’s probably also a good laundry day, and the quince tree’s perfume is filling the front yard – a reminder that their poaching is nigh!
The radio announcer mentions a comet viewing tonight. Will the kids be interested? I still have that old telescope somewhere. I’ll need to do some planning as a clear westward horizon is essential, in position about an hour after sunset. Maybe a barbeque somewhere elevated? But not too late, as the children have school and daycare tomorrow.
I consider options. There’s that clearing in the pine forest atop Mt Parrwang*, the fireplace, a picnic table and minimal light-spill from westward settlement. Perfect!
I buy sausages, rolls, tomato sauce, ice cream, and the can opener. We’re on-site by five, the snags cooked and eaten well before sunset. We settle in. I have the telescope set up but Thomas suddenly lets out a cry of dismay. His front tooth has fallen out. It’s on the ground somewhere. All focus is on the potential loss and implications for a Tooth Fairy’s visitation!
We are on hands and knees, minutely searching the grass. Thomas simpers. A magpie chortles a tenor melody while from somewhere distant, kookaburras provide baritone harmonies. I see an enamel glint, the tooth is wrapped in tissue and pocketed safely, the Fairy’s visit secured!
Indisputable priorities, between fairies and comets, are made. We head home.
*- Djadja Warrung word for Magpie