After the Valley experienced a long drawn out period of devastating drought, the breeding of fowl decreased, but after a very wet and dreary winter, spring and the new birth was beautiful. It continued to get better as each afternoon I watched my sister walk home from school and day after day be swooped at by the dominant, polygamous male for the area (namely the magpie).
When the school holidays came, my afternoon entertainment came to a pause. I knew the boredom would soon lift because a friend Lucy was coming to stay.
It was a perfect spring day when she came over. The sky was baby blue with the features of creamy white fluffy soft clouds. With the warm breeze blowing easily, the day was innocently inviting, so we went out to play.
First we played with my yo-yo, this lasted for half an hour, and soon we found ourselves out of ideas of things to do. Then I suggested we play on the scooters. The two scooters would not have been used for easily three years, so this left them coated in silver threads. The threads made them appear to shine and shimmer in the golden light that had made its way through the many metres of foliage above them. I pulled them down from their hooks and cautiously brush of the webs.
My driveway is fairly flat but some parts have been pushed up from the extension of plant roots, so to scoot on that would definitely be out of the question. This resulted in Lucy and I taking the scooters out on the road. We were not in danger of the local traffic on the road because it is a no through road and I live about half way down.
The Essay on Journeys- A Righteous Day and A Road Not Taken
Journeys are a multi-faceted concept which can result in both positive and negative outcomes. “A Righteous Day” (1988) by Mudrooroo and “A Road Not Taken” (1916), both explore an inner journey as an implication of a physical journey. Composers of both poems have effectively articulated this inner self-realisation through a variety of language devices. Mudrooroo’s “A Righteous Day” encompasses a ...
I had forgotten how much fun it was to be on my scooter; the steering continuously going off centre, the vibration as the solid wheels spin on the bumpy surface of the road and the noisy clacking as the wheels went on each new uneven surface. Behaving in a child like manner had its positives but also the negatives. Laughing as we tried to beat each other in a race did not cancel out the fact we were 100 metres within the nest of an extremely aggressive magpie, whose 3 eggs were still being incubated, by one of his female partners. Lucy and I went on our way not considering the magpie, how protective he is of his young and how threatening and stressful our fast movement and noisiness was. This lead to my confrontation with the beaked creature.
Along we went scooting not trying to intrude or threaten, but to have a good time. I tried to think of some tactic to win the race, looking to my side I watched the shrubbery pass by in a semi blur, as mass of black and white plumage approached from behind. The beat of it wings flapping in the wind now haunts me. It dived down knowing its one responsibility to protect its young and we put it into a state of stress. Its mission had just begun and Lucy’s and my time to play had just about finished. The bird possessed impressive speed and its target now approached, and I was struck hard above my temple with both beak and claw.
The magpie’s stress decreased as Lucy’s and mine increased as we both began to scream. Our enemy flew up to reposition itself for its next attack and we fled the battlefield, its territory. I had heard stories, fact or fable, where people had lost eyes and I did not want to be struck again. This resulted with me elevating the shiny, silver
saviour in my hand, holding it by its handle and rotating the wheels and base around my head. I turned by head to see where Lucy was. She had thrown herself to the ground, I contemplated helping her up but I decided I must save myself from the perilous fate. One of us had to survive. I would go for help.
Running as hard and fast as I could, adrenaline motoring me, I was still screaming and spinning the scooter, I approached the drive. The magpie came in for its second attack, death and destruction gleaming in its eyes, I could see it this time, so I could take evasive action and duck. Finally I reached the shelter of the veranda of my weatherboard home. Through the house I trekked, screaming hysterically, trying to articulate my near death experience to my mum, so she could go save my friend. I told her to perilous situation I had left Lucy in. I was still hysterical when I touched by head to show where I had been hit. As I brought my hand down it was coated in a bright red layer of blood. Someone rang the doorbell, startling me to my sense, and when I went to answer it, it was Lucy unharmed by the enemy, except she had grazed her knee. Afterwards we just laughed about what we had encountered and took every opportunity to retell the tale of when we survived the attack of the killer magpie.
The Essay on Heart Attacks
A heart attack occurs when the blood supply to a portion of the heart muscle is severely reduced or stopped. This happens when one of the arteries that supply blood to the heart muscle is blocked by an obstruction. This blockage can be due to a condition called atherosclerosis (a build up of fatty like substance along the wall of the artery), a blood clot or a coronary vessel spasm along with a ...
When Lucy had left there was still a week and a half of holiday, but more importantly three more weeks of magpie season. The early morning melodic warbling was frightening to wake to, yet it was present each day. I greatly feared going outside, so I remained indoors, but when the magpie attacked someone else it was not humorous it was uncontrollably hilarious.