“A magpie can be happy or sad: sometimes so happy that he sits on a high, high gum tree and rolls the sunrise around in his throat like beads of pink sunlight; and sometimes so sad that you would expect the tears to drip off his beak.
This magpie was like that.”
~ Colin Thiele
I’ve had a restless night.
Pain. Broken sleep. Fevers.
But I came back into my body after a few hours of snatched sleep, and as I lay there with my eyes closed I heard angels singing.
It pleased me, and I nestled down in the pile of blankets and pillows, listening to their music.
It was only after a long while that I came to realise that it wasn’t angels, but magpies. They were sitting on the powerline just outside my bedroom window, deep in song.
I had no idea what time it was. Only that it was early, and dawn was a mere suggestion in a scrubby sky of low cloud and streaky stars.
What a blessed start to my day.
Here are some rather bedraggled magpies who sound a lot like the ones who sang for me…