A magpie woke me early this morning with a short, loud call. My head was filled with ephemera floating deliciously within reach ... words, connections, images waiting as I slipped out of bed. I grabbed my pencil, and notebook but even with those small movements, the stillness broke and the moment faded.
Now it's another hot afternoon. On the upside, Plonk stopped by, traveling alone as usual. Other than the girlfriend he had a couple of years ago seems he doesn't mingle much with the local pigeons. I also keep to myself so we are birds of a feather. Our paths only crossed when he ended up in the middle of the street one fateful afternoon, after he hit a car. He ate, bathed, rested in the greenery awhile then took off. 
Just after Plonk left a tiny bird landed outside my window and spent a few minutes watching me through the screen. They do that from time to time,
the little guys, never the big ones.
Plonk pigeons bird park
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