The War of the Roses
Below all the Chatswood apartment towers is a small, perfectly manicured French rose garden. Flocks of cockatoos shred the tips of its magnolias looking for treats.
One day, as I passed their mess, I shot a disgusted look at Cocky but instead of turning his head in shame he shot back alertly as if he must have missed a bit. Following my eyes and steps, he flew short sprints beside me in a battle to get the leftovers.
That is, until the end of the garden where there’s a round, metal railing. Cocky flew onto it at full force sending himself into a 360 and ended up hanging like a bat.
I loomed over him giggling and thought he had no choice but to plop onto his head or fly upside down but Cocky did what no human could. Using his powerful legs, claws and beak, he ratcheted himself backwards until he stood upright and proud with his chest feathers badly ruffled. I shrank in awe.
That garden is a memorial to all the wars we admit we’ve fought but Cocky reminds us there is one war that isn’t over and it’s one that humans are destined to lose.
Author Bio: I’m an IT person who lives in one of the apartment towers and loves the unique perspective the view gives, especially of the full-grown bunya pines at the oval, changing seasons, and birds - a peregrine falcon teaching her young to fly, flocks of pelicans, and of course the cockatoos .