The Grass is Greener

He’s the king of the birds, and this evening he’s eating like a king. The rain has stopped and the worms are coming up for air in the waterlogged soil. The magpie barely needs to work to fill his belly. A human is watching and that’s okay, as long as he keeps his distance. If he gets too close then look out! The king of the birds will get him.

The human shuffles closer. He’s got a camera to his eye. The magpie knows he ought to be flattered by the attention, but he really just wants to eat. A big worm reveals itself and the magpie gets cocky. He puffs up his chest for the sake of his spectator. He should stick to being a magpie and not a cock, because he messes up his acrobatic lunge. He shakes the dirt from his beak and recollects himself before trying again.

Got it!

It’s the biggest worm of the day, and the photographer is taking a bounty of action shots.

The storm clouds break again. The human dashes home, covering his camera with his jacket. He has to prepare for work tomorrow. How he wishes he could trade his miserable job for the freedom of the magpie. Even if it means he has to eat worms.

The magpie sits in the branches, barely sheltered by the skinny eucalyptus leaves. How he wishes he could trade this branch for the comfort and shelter of a house.

A worm swims across the drenched grass with no magpies to bother him. Ah, this is the life.

T

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