Posted in Living in Australia


As I sit outside thinking about gratitude and its effect on the human soul, a cockatoo shows up.

 I like to imagine it’s a boy. I don’t know why, but his look of intent feels masculine so I go with it.

Now with my eggs and bread in front of me, he turns and stares at me. Once the stare becomes more intense, I notice his discomfort starting to show with every twist and bob of his head. But I hold on! I hold on to his look because I’m reminded over and over with the fact that I am afraid and I refuse to let him see my fear. And just when I start to relax, boom, he flies to the wooden railing in front of me and starts walking back and forth along the plank, like he is choosing his next move carefully. I can see his mind is on my toast, but I refuse to be intimidated.

Instead, I bring my plate closer to my chest and laugh at his chances. And he, with shock written all over his face, decides to call in a friend. So now I have two cockatoos straddling my ass for a piece of toast!

What do I do?

I swallow it whole in one bite and make sure they don’t get a chance to call in a third friend. Once they see what I have done, the second bird decides I am not worth his time and flies off.

The first bird though, now he’s a trickster. 

He continues to walk the plank pretending to play coy, but I tell him, “I know your game! You can’t scare me into submission. I won’t give in no matter how cute you walk.”

Finally, after enough of this back and forth, he decides to follow his friend and I decide to stop talking to myself.


lover of words

One thought on “Cockatoos

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