Cheers to September 1st

Just for opening day… Dick will be heading back into bass country this afternoon!

She’s sitting in the shadows now
Away from morning sun.
Beneath the singing river oaks
And cicadas endless hum.

The scrub wrens, and the cuckoo doves
They make their presence known.
But no one knows, save but she
Her hidden, murky home.

The months have passed since last she stalked
These hollows, snags and holes.
She travelled far, and back again
By instinct forced to go.

The estuary, it made its call
She answered it in time
And rode winter floods down to the mouth
To meet with others of her kind.

And dance they did, through those shorter days
And brackish winter nights.
The schooling shoals holding in the deep
Trusting sea grass to shelter life.

And now she’s back, she’s home again
And hunting are her dreams.
Fast and lean and travel scarred
Are her flanks of olive green.

Her fins a-fan, to hold in place
Her bulk against the murk.
To dart at once at what those eyes they track
And let jaws do their work.

The shoaling smelt, well they know
The dangers of the dark.
And clicking shrimp, and water nymphs
Fear the shadows as they pass.

As stretching days begin to warm
And Christmas beetles fall from grace
She hits them as they flounder
And waits for cicadas to take their place.

And sure enough, here comes the drone
The ceaseless, whirring hum.
Her hidden eyes watch the air above
For sure now they have come.

There! Above, but descending fast
She surges to meet the crash.
As the bug tries to right its wings
She meets it with a splash!

Triumphant, and excited for the kill
Fins splayed and eyes aflare
As feeble clicking dies between her jaws
She drifts back to her lair.

She stares in silence from her home
While plastic hulls lumber by.
She’s been around for long enough
To steer clear and not ask why.

And so she lives, another summer spent
Away from morning sun.
Beneath the singing river oaks,
And cicadas endless hum.

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