Merril and I got married in this home in 2012.  For all the time since, we have had a view of a tree in a neighbouring yard.  A huge tree.  A tree considered a weed in some states.  A tree the type of which lines the footbaths in Toowoomba.  A Camphor laurel.   Not a native tree.  But a beautiful looking tree to me.
But as of yesterday, the view of that tree is no more.   The owner of the home passed away and the new owners cut it down.  I reckon it had to go.  It did nothing for the owner of the property except perhaps provide shade.  It was so big it really took up any space in the back yard.
One thing I do know is it provided shelter and homes for many birds.  I personally have never seen so much bird activity in our tree after that one came down. I reckon the birds were just checking out the joint.
We had to go out in the morning and the people chopping the tree down were just getting started.  We had some way smaller trees removed a while ago including one larger one.  Merril said to the guy removing the tree, “you guys love dealing with bigger trees don’t you?”  She was met with an enthusiastic yes.  The ones dealing with the Camphor Laurel must have been in like 7th heaven.  It was huge.
We do wonder if that was where our crow nested.  He and the wife used to fly off in that direction after a feed.  We have seen him since, but not her yet.  She is way shyer.
When we returned home after lunch, they had dealt with much of the tree but still had a ways to go.  From time to time, Merril and I would wander out the back to check progress.  Removing something that size seems a real art.  Timbers that were huge were dropped safely with ease.  They were then quickly mulched.
We are sorry but not sorry to see it go.  We love trees but this one seemed to be more of a pest than an asset to the owner.  I was talking to a friend of the former owner and he said he was there when it was planted.  He rued it happening.
Anyway, I reckon the birds must be used to moving on these days.

Merril and I went to watch hockey matches at the Commonwealth Games.
We watched it with mates of ours.  He was from Ghana and she from Japan.  I had a transfer put onto a tee shirt of Ghana and I bought a Ghanan flag.  I actually combined it with my love of stamps and learned a bit about Ghana I had no idea about.  I ended up giving him the Ghanan flag.  We were also watching South Africa play so I bought a South African flag as well.  That one I still have.  It was good company and enjoyable to watch.
When I was in Townsville, I used to play table tennis under our house against an indigenous guy (the place was high set – we did not lie on our tummies to play).  We would have the time of our lives.  I will never forget the laughter.
At work I used to play table tennis in lunch time with a guy from Taiwan. He was the only person I have ever played who had a back hand played with a forehand action.  It is hard to explain but it is popular in Asia.
One thing I have found is that no matter the race or creed we all love the same things.  Whether working hard or playing hard we had similar goals.  There are those right into things and those who’s attitude leaves something to be desired.  This is not a trait of one particular race only, but from my experience it is universal.
It seems to me we all share the start.  How we finish is totally up to each individual.  
There are things about culture I can miss to my detriment and potential embarrassment.  I may be a big believer in “when in Rome do as the Romans do” but I also strongly feel to give custom where custom is due.  There are times when respect determines I should behave a way, that may be foreign to me but is normal to another.
For me custom is to be celebrated and differences embraced (I love how the Indians love to dance).  It is deviations which lead to unreasonable death and destruction which I avoid.  It appears to me all cultures share that.
As far as I am concerned, we are all in this together.  I will give and take help no matter where it comes from.  Everyone needs it from time to time.

I was wondering what profound thing I could write about today.  Like, “what is the meaning of life?” or “Why is there air?’” (to blow up volley balls).
But I started thinking about our crow.  I say our crow, but he is not really ours.  He visits us on a daily basis.  He likes to wander our yard.  We feed him regularly.  I want Merril at some stage to get a picture of me and him sitting together.  He perches on the chair next to me in the yard, and we both stare meaningfully into the middle distance.
The thing is though, like me he is getting old.  Once upon a time he was king pin.  Now he seems to feel more secure in the yard when we are there.  He looks heavenward.  I think that is because that is where he has been attacked from.  Not by one crow.  But by two.  Twice we have rescued him from an aerial assault.
It seems to me it is a fact of life that living produces age.  It is often said that in the head someone may not feel older, but for the body it is different.  Sometimes aches and pains come on for no apparent reason.  It used to be rock and roll was a form of music but now it is me getting up of a morning.
But I will always go into bat for older people.  So often they can seem to be discarded while still having so much to give.  I find that older age can come in two forms.  I have seen both. 
The first is closed and it is like there is nothing more to learn and their way is the only way.  That to me is hard for someone and others.  No one jumps at the chance of doing things totally another’s way.  It is fighting a loosing and ultimately lonely battle.
The other way is remaining open.  Realizing the more I know, the more I know I don’t know.  But that is not a threat.  I have something to give, and I have something to learn. 
Others of like mind and like outlook are attracted.  It seems to me there is a freedom in not pretending or thinking I know it all.  Wonder and growth remain.
Maybe not for crows.  But young or old we love him.