Blackbird

I saw a blackbird sitting on a reflector post by a lonely road. His feathers were black and shiny, a downy layer over his plump breast. Those who knew him knew his foolish tendencies. Even so, he had acquired a maturity of sorts by his years.

Those beady eyes had seen many things.

Those black wings had beaten a rhythm as they carried him over forests and sparkling rivers snaking through the lush green lands of the south.

His strong claws had scratched in the soft grass, course stones and sandy dirt.

He maintained his perch, though sometimes it looked like the post might teeter under his weight. His eyes saw everything--he didn't miss a beat. From the sway of the bushes by the roadside to the beetles labouring under the heat.

At the perfect moment and only by his own choice, he swooped down off the post and captured a bug in his beak. In a flutter of wings and a scurry of movement; in nothing much more than the space of a moment.

And then he alighted back on top of the post. The ferns rooted in the ditch quivered in the breeze. Silence reigned, silence as we think of it. Yet this silence ushered in a whole new level of noise.

And the blackbird listened as he sat on the post, many songs played in his head. He cocked his head as the wind rustled his feathers, to take in the gurgle of the creek beyond. The cry of a cockatoo pierced through the trees of the forest beyond the broken down fence. The blackbird knew what he said. He understood the cries. But he remained on his post, still and patient.

As the day waned on he was still in his area, hopping around on the ground to look for a bite.

In the dark shadows he could see the possums and kangaroos, scrounging in the sticks and leaves under he approaching evening. An echidna and her baby sipped water at the creek's edge. A flock of shrieking parrots flew across the purple sky. The plants were bedding down as small animals awoke to the stars.

Back on the post, just as the blackbird was preparing to fly to his roost, a new sound suddenly came to his ears. And it got louder as the sense of danger grew stronger. And suddenly it was there--a great, black beast with eyes of light. A car travelling the road at an alarming rate.

The echidna and her baby ran from the creek in the bushes. They didn't reach the cover of the leaves until the car had already past with a roar. The kangaroos darted through the trees, their peace destroyed. One of the possums scampered across the road, separated from her friends. A wave of relief jolted the blackbird's heart upon seeing her survive the trip.

He then jumped in the air almost violently and much to his regret, a black feather fell to the ground. It was swept away like a leaf by the wind of the passing monster, as in the distance the blackbird retreated to the treetops.

Copyright 2023 Misty Rumsley