Leaves crunched underfoot. Willy wag tails hopped from stone to stone seemingly dancing along beside me, with their tails forever dipping. Grey fantails flitted and snatched invisible mites from the air. Their nests are slender and delicate, made of spider web and bark and skewered into branches. Raven’s, glossy black, run along in front of me, watching my progress with a knowing look. Wattlebirds swoop and dive in the air above me chasing off newcomers from their territory. A grey butcherbird sits above me in a tree, singing. I stop to listen and in the distance I hear an answer, almost a duet.