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I walked, insignificant beneath

giant eucalyptus,

peeling bark hanging in strings,

revealing subtle pinks,

oranges, greys.

Through tree fern gullys, tracery of

fronds filtering the sun,

shady green, dappled.

And everywhere, birds flitted,

colourful, exotic to my eyes.

The parched fallen gum leaves

crackled beneath my feet.

I was almost, but not quite, lost,

weary after hours of walking,

but now heading in the direction

of home.

My head was full of colours and sounds,

the smell of eucalyptus

welcome in my nostrils.

And then, a familiar call,

a stirring in the trees ahead,

the sense of being watched

a glimpse of movement,

and suddenly I was surrounded

by black cockatoos.

I stopped in wonder,

in awe.

I must have spent an hour

watching, camera clicking

while they chatted and pecked

and clambered around the branches.

They knew I was there.

They didn’t care.

I was the one who was

blessed by our meeting.