Sunday, December 6, 2009

Trinity Circle

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich loves living in the Cottage. We all know this. Earl Hill provides the loveliest sunrises and sunsets, the Sunbirds and butterflies. And the darling Wobbalies as the baby calls them. We watch the little families wander in from the rainforest each afternoon and graze on the lawns. We have seen the little joeys jump in and out of the female’s pouch, with legs overflowing and little ears twitching. The Buck likes to laze around and just watch the family, whilst the female does her mothering. Anyone could recognise the dynamics of the universal family structure. It is one of Miss Mich’s great delights to have all of this community going on around her.

Did I mention the snakes? The Big House was more than once home to various rainforest snakes. Apparently the Tree snakes are harmless. The Pythons, I’m not so sure. Despite being an urban girl from the harbourside suburbs of Sydney, Miss Mich did in fact deal rather well with these reptilian discoveries. BBQ tongs and gardening gloves dealt with the Tree snakes, after all, they were only a metre or so long - back to the rainforest with you. The Python that chose to shed its skin in the guest pavilion is one mother I would not like to have met. 2.4metres of scaly overcoat was left as a calling card to say thanks for having me. The fact that the eyes have a covering of film over them, even in the cast off skin, made the whole thing very spooky. Miss Mich felt as though the ghostly evil twin had been left behind.

Last night was a meeting of reptile and marsupial worlds that Miss Mich wishes had never occurred. There we were - the ABC, a fresh glass of white and yours truly. The Bright Young Things had decamped to Tinaroo for the Inaugral Tin Olympics, so it was a clean house and a quiet night of contemplation ahead.

Until there was this awful sound coming from the lawn of the cottage..

Miss Mich went out to discover the biggest, patterned kick arse snake wrapped around a little female wallaby. The Buck was busy being the protector he is and attempting to free his woman by beating the slimy interloper with his back legs, all the while emitting these extraordinary primal grunts. MM was of course, horrified.

After consultation via text, with the Libertine, it was clear there was little Miss Mich could do. The sweet girl, by this time, was dead, the snake still tightly coiled around her. The Buck took up position on the slope and with a menacing and dirge like rhythm, beat his tail against the ground. Miss Mich felt like she was on a battle ground. The Buck went in one more time to try and release his mate. So determined, so warrior like.

Miss Mich is aware she anthropomorphizing these animals to a ridiculously sentimental extent. But it was Saturday night and I was on my own. I was watching The Bill for Gods sake.

After making sure all was well in Sun Hill, Miss Mich went out for one final survey of the scene. The sentinel himself was still there watching over her. He stayed on point for some hours. Miss Mich roamed the house, not able to settle, and each time she looked over the balcony the reflection of his eyes caught her and let her know he was still there.

Miss Mich, when she did sleep, had strange and disturbing dreams of animals and pets. Past and present.

This morning shows me the little body on the drive.

I cannot say enjoy Sunday.

With Sadness
Miss Mich

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