My Santiago

CHRISTMAS KOALA IN THE GUMS

One morning in early December, He was simply there! Snug - fitted into the crook of the neighbour’s Ghost Gum, Now here, then further up the tree, One moment languidly picking leaves and feeding, The next, freeing one hand and scratching his bottom, Contentedly… As he contemplated his next move for the day. Long days, hazy days, Spent up a tree, in burning sun and blowing rain. He sat, fitted, hung and moved – in casual slow motion, Slow when we saw him, But then, in a flash, across the span of the tree, Into outlying branches; And we ask how did he do it? So slow and yet so quick! For our Christmas Koala. And there he would be, Now closer, now lower, Now further, now higher, Now in front, now at back, But nevertheless, Still there, To greet us. We imagined, How he would have carefully, Descended – at nightfall - from one tree, Growling as he did, And moved across fences to his next chosen spot, And the thought made us laugh! Each morning we would take more photographs, To capture the advent of our Christmas Koala. Each morning after that, We would wake and walk out to the garden and gaze upwards to the sky. Scanning gums, Ghost, Paper and Stringybark, To a cacophony of squawks and screeches, As only rowdy Sulphur ‘Cresteds’ can make. Outside, we were treated to an Australian animal melodrama, Complete with actions, posturing, loud sounds and dramatic gestures, As Christmas Koala was told – in no uncertain terms – That he was trespassing! Who wilted first? Not Christmas Koala; he hung tight and feigned slumber, Till the rowdy birds, simply gave up, One morning, midway through his stay, We woke, early, before sunrise,