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'THE GULLY IS sheathed in mist and the air is water. Our footsteps crack along the pathway, and my breath, muffled in the hood of the rain jacket I bought at Big W just two hours ago, is warm and loud. The cockatoos are screeching. At first, it’s a few flying overhead, but the deeper we go into the gully the louder they are and the more there are, until the sky is no longer grey and cloudy but a swirl of white and yellow. They scream and scream, calling to each other. They’re not like magpies, whose voices are melodious and rich, and yet today the screeching is like a balm. My senses tingle, and each call sends a shot of pleasure down my spine.' (Introduction)
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Last amended 3 Nov 2023 13:01:33
When the Birds Scream : Lessons from the Cockatoos
Griffith Review
Griffith Review
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