A DISSIMULATION OF OMENS (OR, WHY AM I SEEING KITTENS?)

The fantail is, by both definitions, a curious bird. When you leave the house they flit gaily around your head and feet, and when you walk somewhere they follow. You can understand why people think they’re an omen—though of what is not exactly clear. I have an Aunt who says fantails are harbingers of death, while my Nanna says they herald an impending birth. Could it be both? A zombie baby? Someone on Facebook said a fantail was only bad luck if it came inside. I have one who comes in each day at 4ish and flies around the house for 30 minutes. No good? Someone else said they were the spirits of dead relatives, which might explain why the bird leaves when I undress. Whether any of these theories are true, or whether fantails (Rhipidura fulginosa, Piwakawaka,) are seeking not your soul, but just the sweet taste of the tiny bugs you disturb as you walk, is irrelevant. The pure fact of the matter is that strolling through a quiet glade with several birds flitting around your head makes you feel like a sage of the woods.

Eerie things happen when you're alone in the country. The other day I took a can of diesel and set several huge piles of logs alight. In the evening I went back to check I hadn't set fire to anything important, like a forest. I sat and watched for a while, and as the sun dipped behind the blaze I felt like a Pagan hermit must have felt when he maintained his property. On the way home I rounded a bend to find my way blocked by a tiny, black kitten. He sat in the middle of the track, considering everything and nothing. How he got there and what his mission was I’ll never know. The kitten inclined its head and looked at me, wide-eyed, and I stared back from my stationary vehicle. Then he hopped brightly off into the bushes, leaving me to ponder. Eventually I shrugged and drove off. How the kitten got so far from anywhere is not for me to know. Luckily, in rural lore, a black kitten in your path means just a teensy bit of bad luck.