Last days of Winter

In the last days of Winter, it is cold and raining. Real Winter rain. Steady and monotonous. But not the kind that soaks you immediately. The kind that soaks you without you really noticing it.Your feet are cold. Your fingers and your back feel the chill of the air. I do miss the Melbourne Winters of old.

I turned from my desk and there was a magpie lark sitting on the fence in the rain. I looked at him for a while. He looked around and sat there a while too. We didnt make eye contact. He has his life and I have mine. We are interconnected yet quite separate. Im not sitting on a fence out in the rain, and he's not looking out the window from a desk strewn with papers and thoughts and words and bits of hair that have formed into tumbleweeds in the corners. When I looked back he was gone.

I didnt hear him go.