8 April 2010
There’s a magpie in the fork of the tree by the bus stop on the common. These are all spindly little trees, like twisty stakes with camouflage netting thrown over the top. But they must be good enough for magpies.
Hello Mr Magpie! Hello Mr Magpie! Hello Mr Magpie!
There’s something you have to say to magpies, isn’t there? Or is it just about how many of them you see? There’s only one of these ones, so I’m screwed anyway.
And if there is some mystic something that you have to say to magpies, is it a real and folkloric something, or is it one of the customs my mum and dad made up, like the one with sweets at New Year or the one about the sheep?