Roger Moroney: Another omen takes flight

Roger Moroney

I approached the driveway and out of the corner of my eye I spotted a magpie, a real healthy looking one, standing on the grass verge by the footpath.

And as I drove into the driveway it took to the air and flew...into the driveway.

It flew up to the end and did a sharp turn and flew straight out again, missing the top of the car by about a wing's breadth.

It was, shall we say, out of the blue.

And it was the second avian close encounter in a week.

For six days earlier I had gone out late in the evening, while there was still a whisper of light, and there on the back lawn was a duck.

A duck.

Only once before has there ever been a duck in the yard and that was about a decade back and on that occasion there were two of them - as they tend to wander off from the ponds and creeks in pairs.

But this mallard visitor was alone, which I was later told was quite odd.

Naturally I called him Trevor, and while I was back inside digging up some food for him he took off.

But only as far as the garage roof.

"Looks like we might get a frost tonight," I declared, before adding "oh, and there's a duck on the garage roof".

You don't get to say that every day.

Then, a couple of days ago, as I put a spot of crumbled up grain bread out for the birds, I saw a newcomer to the usual flock which tends to congregate morning and night for a meal at the expense of a ratepayer.

Amidst the usual array of sparrows, starlings, blackbirds and thrushes, was a single little waxeye.

These tiny chaps, delightful in their greyish-brown and khaki colours and sharp little dark eyes, usually stay up in the trees beside the house where they pluck insects from the air and spores, or whatever, from the branches and leaves.

But this one was on the ground, solo but clearly not alarmed, amidst the usual rabble.

Occasionally a couple of doves call by but this was a first, on the grass, for a waxeye.

So I started wondering.

Will North Korea go too far one day and have a crack at LA?

I dismissed that thought and, harking back to the birds of late, pondered the meaning of an "omen".

Mind you, if sending a missile far out to sea in the general direction of the USA is not an omen that something sinister could one day prevail then I don't know what is.

So, birds...in places where they really should not be.

Like a magpie in the driveway...like a duck on the garage roof.

Like a bird, any bird, in a house.

The latter is a dear old member of the "omen" club and I can recall my late mum once talking about the "consequences" of having a wild bird come into the house.

It happened once at the old homestead and she looked upon it with great favour...for the bird was a starling and apparently they are ok.

Had it been a blackbird, she told us kids, she would have been alarmed for it would mean bad luck of some kind was in the wind.

There are some who embrace the spiritual side of omen things and believe a bird entering a house may be the spirit of a departed loved one trying to pass on a message from "beyond".

Or, if it is a blackbird, it can be seen as dark an omen as a death card in a tarot pack.

Basically, it's one of those fine "old wives' tales".

About a year back it happened to us.

A bird, I think it was a thrush, came in the back door and later went out the same way, but only after shredding a net curtain and sending a few ornaments flying as it worked to adjust its directional radar.

Why had it strayed from the familiar grass and shrubbery landscape it usually embraced?

Was it bearing a message?

Six Lotto numbers would have been dandy but no dice.

Was it trying to tell us something?

No, the fact it had become very daring in terms of seeking food from us saw me decide to scatter some crumbs on the back step, and then in the doorway...and then on the kitchen floor to see if he'd wander in and yep, he did.

Then he got lost in the lounge.

I tempted him and he accepted.

He saw the omen.

The omen of a meal indoors.

So, accordingly, I have not begun putting bread on the garage roof for I suspect the neighbours would think I'm quackers.