It is Thursday, July 30, day eleventy-million-and-one of lockdown. My wife is standing in the lounge talking to the loerie drinking water in the bird bath on our patio. She’s asking if it needs more water. It’s cawing back at her with that nasal tone that is endearing even when there are six of them in the big tree in our garden having a caw-fest.

My wife was talking to a bird. The bird talked back. In a lockdown you will take any conversation with anything from the outside world you can get. ..

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