Flyaway
Lisa Collyer
I stand apart a drab donga. Zipped vests undo
basic plumage, almost
non-verbal. Rare vagrant, ropy
lists. In the Shadehouse, species queue
into rows and
columns. Rivals split over a ka ke
ki-ki-ki. I acculturate an ornithological gait, my next
meal, my next
mate. Spotting scopes strewn over fold-out
tables, outdo sweaty prints on digital stills
(apertures of truth) not yet showered.
They are all ecru, each unidentifiable.
A migrant’s prosody draws a mob
to ogle
lurid eye-stripe. Squadrons form orderly
whilst I lag like the return flight.
A bat hangs
atrophied.
How I have changed? Peripatetic
follower of quiet observation. I sit out
the doldrums in a peep hole. One Bower
bird−hoard theory verified. Blind stoics. Two
Peaceful Doves, a mantle of delineated
bars. I settle for unspoilt real estate
a prayer of Godwits on a midden’s scatter.
The science inspiring the piece:
Flyway was inspired by a few days spent at the Broome Bird Observatory, a highly significant shorebird migratory area and place of research in the East-Asian Australasian Flyway.
Feature image via Tyrrell Photographic Collection, Powerhouse Museum (Public Domain)
