The bush just took off. The gum trees were happily playing in the wind and the grass trees were proudly showing off their spears then absolute transformation as the fire raged through. In just a blink of an eye the soft green views changed to a scary orange, red and black sky. Branches bounced off the hard ground shattering into tiny pieces and the once green leaves disappeared into a cloud of ash. The oily Spinifex caught like a match and fuelled the ground cover like an angry dragon.
Larry, the Loriquet escapes the trees and rests for a moment on a rough red sandstone rock.
“Where is she? Where is Lucy?” he murmurs to the wind. “Luuuuuuucy!”
It’s silent, yet deafening. The black cockatoos have disappeared and even the sulphur crested white cockatoos, who usually hang around to see the action, have gone. The kites and Harry the wedge-tailed eagle are cruising around on the thermals, not too close but close enough to see, dive down and grab an unsuspecting and desperate little mouse. The fire cracks, bangs and roars and leaps down the valley with total disregard for anything in its way.
“Luuuuuuuuucy. Where are you my love?”
Leonard, his mate from next door flies in. “Hi Larry, what a bloody mess. I’m totally fed up with all these fires. Every week I’m rebuilding my nest. Where are you off to?
“Leonard have you seen Lucy? After dinner, she went down to the river for a bathe and now I can’t find her. It’s dark, it’s hot and she’s going to be so frightened. She needs me. I know. I can feel her trying to tell me where she is. I’ve flown up and down the river bed and even checked out some of the caves where we hide. No Lucy”
“Hey mate. I’ll help you. Let’s do another fly over” and he pats Larry’s feathery cheek.
They take off, like little spitfires they dive and duck through the bush. The river mirrors the ugly bush with red shimmering trees and sizzling rocks and they can’t get too close.
“Look there’s a beach” shouts Larry.
They swoop down and rest their little feet in the soft cool sand. If only Lucy could find them here. It’s like a little haven, an oasis amidst the mess.
There’s a furious buzzing in the air and a swarm of bees whizz into view and settle on a lonely palm. They are chattering in some weird foreign language. Larry hops over “Have you seen Lucy? She looks just like me but her wings are slightly duller and her chest not so red”. They shrug their wings and wiggle their heads. Larry is not quite sure whether the answer is no, or whether they don’t understand. He tries gesticulating, holds hands with Leonard and then gives him a big kiss. The bees start to giggle.
Then Willy the Wallaby hops in. It’s getting pretty busy on the beach.
Larry wanders down to the water. There’s movement around the reeds and a noise. It’s a little squeaky and hoarse but, could it be, could it be Lucy? His tummy turns over and his eyes start to weep with hope. “Oh please”. He pushes the reeds apart.
“Lucy, oh Lucy. It’s you. Are you OK? Are you hurt? Let me give you a hug”
“Larry, I was so worried about the babies but they’re safe. Look I put the nest on this raft. We were fine until I got stuck in these reeds”
And it all ended happily ever after!
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4 comments:
You paint a vivid scene of the fire engulfing the serenity of the bush and the craziness this creates for it inhabitants. I wwas surprised by the mention of babies by Lucy as Larry had not mentioned them once and I suspect he would have been equally alarmed by theur potential danger. I loved the matesmanship between the birds depsite the perilous situation. An entertaining and colourful read. I particularly liked the spitfires ducking and diving trhough the bush.
Kerry says:
What an imagination Sue. A totally different take on burning the oil (although maybe not the midnight oil).
So many delightful descriptions - the fire like 'an angry dragon', the lorikeets like 'little spitfires'.
The ending came with a bit of a rush and the babies were a surprise but there you go - a happy ending.
Heather says:
I've always loved lorikeets, and this story catches the flavour of their cheeky, irreverent style and their seeming unconcern for what else is going on in the environment. The animals' matter of fact approach to the fire gave me pause - in a good way, thinking about our own human highly dramatic interpretation.
Whose point of view is the first paragraph written from?
I too was a little upset by Larry's cavalier attitude to the babies - but then, maybe that's just lorikeets!
Your descriptions are vivid, Sue, and the outbreak of the fire is really well-drawn.
The mis-spelling "Loriqueet" threw me, and I spent the next three or four paragraphs trying to work out whether Larry was a human or a bird!
Having sorted that out, I think the main improvement I could suggest would be the dialogue - it was a bit stilted.
I think it would help to decide whether you are writing for children or for adults, and if for children whether it is to be read to them, or what reading age you are targeting. The descriptions seemed to be at a much higher reading age than the dialogue.
For example, to kids, "spitfires" are those stinging caterpillars - WWII aircraft are generally not covered in school until Year 10 (age 15).
The personification of the fire is very powerful, and I liked the creativity in the use of the prompt, too.
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