We all in our own ways have that “Holy Grael” that Sir Perceval was seeking. However there are other lesser dreams we have that don’t involve messy stuff, like cleaning up after the “Fisher King” in his land of desolation. In fact, trying to read Joseph Campbell’s book: “Romance of the Grail” might in itself be one of those Great Quests.
Climbing Mount Everest is such a pursuit. Landing man on the moon. Playing a hole-in-one on the golf course and ever so many other Great Quests are challenges that people stand up to meet. So many great acts of, “Decent People, doing Decent Things” as I alluded recently regarding Arnold Dix
But there are also little wins we each make. Some birders are on the look out for the next big bird thing. A nomad, or wanderer that turns up unexpectedly. Enough to have them drive across the state or on some cases the continent and further.
We have been watching and waiting of late for the return of the Flame Robins from the high country. Just occasionally we might see a Rose or Scarlet, but rarely a Pink Robin. Not unheard of, but they tend to be birds of the forest I think, and our wide open plains are more to be flown over on their migration south on their quest for some suitable forest to winter over.
So, it was, as they say, a “Sir Perceval” or Mt Everest moment the other day, when as we searched through the underbrush, a small brown shape flashed from one wattle bush to another, and then intrigued by our presence, (well, I like to think that), she popped out on a branch, cocked her head to one side, paused long enough for a few frames, and then in the twinkle of her eye.
Disappeared back into the wattle branches.
Gone.
“Pink Robin, Female”.
Might not be Mt Everest, or a hole-in-one on the golf course, but a highlight of the day.
Enjoy (We did)
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 