Catherine Mair & Patricia Prime: FRIGHTENED SPARROWS

.

Something rustles in the flax beside the river while magpies quardle ardle doodle in the gum trees above.

This still autumn morning, a bevy of dogs in the park. Zak, the maltese terrier, gambols around our legs yapping for his mistress to throw his rubber quoit.

Voices have a hollow drifting quality - dogs meet on the bridge, their tails as frantic as hands clapping at a rock concert.

You wouldn't imagine looking at the river's tranquil surface that days ago flood waters rushed down from the Kamai ranges towards the sea, flattening grass along the banks.

.
a solitary heron
wades into
its reflection

.
Developers have left a grassy track that skirts the old pond. It leads back to the house without going down to the road. We make our way through weeds and wildflowers, take a short cut around a neighbour's property and climb a bank towards the homestead. In the reeds, mallards call to each other.

.
losing my footing
I grip a fern frond
frightened sparrows
.

.
by Catherine Mair and Patricia Prime
Katikati, Bay of Plenty, New Zealand
and Auckland, New Zealand