Among the greens and blues of the grasses and gum trees, her pure white glares through.
She bears no resemblance to the residents of this place, of whom there are six in all, sporting bold lustrous colours with glinting highlights: black and silver, gold and black, red, and yellow ochre. Nor does she resemble other visitors to this place; not the drab unwelcome ones arriving in their great numbers, nor the much celebrated rainbow coloured ones arriving in pairs or threes to perch on the wire fences, a callistemon or melaleuca.
Not only is her presence unusual, but so is her demeanour. She sits still, perfectly still, and not in the safety of a tree but on the grass. It seems she has somehow given up; happy for her end to come via a predator of any calibre. At the very least, she has lost the plot.
Our curiosity piqued, the children and I spy on her from a distance and for some minutes. Then, as if a switch has been flicked, a sickening sinking feeling takes hold inside me.
Like that day at the beach when in the distance the girls and I spotted a seal: a most beautiful black seal, sitting upright in perfect seal form. He was way back on the sand, seemingly transfixed by the great ocean before him. We jogged towards him with excited chatter all the way: Why is he alone? Where has he come from? Are there any more? What will Dad say?
Seals are occasionally seen duck diving through the breakers close to shore, but never have we spotted one on land.
His distant contours were exquisite in design, as pen and hand might flow in one smooth stroke. His motionless form was utter beauty. But then, quite close now, our joy turned black: eyes gone, life gone. I think I cried; inside, if not out. Lily took up a stick and drew a big RIP in the sand. We didn't speak, the girls and me. We hovered a bit, and then turned back.
Moving towards the little dove with kids in tow, relief ascends as I see she is alive, although thin and small. She scuttles away from us along the ground, too weak to fly, so we back off. We find some wheat and throw it to her and she pecks at this: excellent. By night she is gone. Someone's escaped pet, we conclude, hopefully on her