Day 29 - The Kookaburras at The Crossroads

Today, something small and mythic happened on an ordinary dog walk.

I heard the kookaburras first — loud, laughing somewhere above us in the trees.
I couldn’t see them, but I heard them clearly enough for the message to land:

“Pay attention.”

We kept walking.

Between the Crossroads and the Pine Sentinels —
the stretch of path that always feels like a threshold between worlds —
a kookaburra was suddenly there.

On a tree stump.
Ground level.
Hidden from view — until we rounded the trunk. 
Close enough that we startled each other.

He flew off before I could take it in fully.
When I looked up, after stepping clear of the tree, I realised he wasn’t alone.

Two more kookaburras sat high on a branch, side by side, watching us.
If I’d had the camera with me, I would have committed some photography —
with only my phone, they would’ve been lost in the twisting branches.

I saw them though.
That was enough.

In my world kookaburras don’t just appear.
They arrive with timing.

Hear first →
See later →
Understand now.

The stump one was the Herald.
The two on the branch were the Witnesses.
The place they appeared — the threshold between the Crossroads and the Pine Sentinels — couldn’t have been more exact.

Sometimes myth shows up with symbols and runes.
Sometimes its shows up as a bird you’ve known since childhood suddenly meeting you at your level on the path you walk every day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s “ordinary”.
What matters is the timing.
The recognition.
The echo that says:

“You’re on the right path.”

Myth doesn’t always roar.
Sometimes it laughs from a gum tree.