A few years ago, we were walking along a track somewhere and this fantail was following us for ages, as they do.
It was a few years after my Dad had died (Lachlan was a baby when Dad died and he was a talking toddler by this time).
So the children said “oh, it must be Pop”. From that day on, any friendly fantails are Pop coming to say hi. If there is more than one, obviously Poppa (my father-in-law) or someone else like that has come to join him.
This afternoon I am bringing in the washing, thinking about my Uncle Woodie’s funeral tomorrow that I am missing (that could be a whole separate blog, but let’s just say I can’t be everywhere and do everything and will sorely miss not being there). Swoosh. A fantail perches on the washing line, flips his head left and right, toodles along the line a bit, then goes to a nearby tree. This happens several times, so I strike up a conversation, telling the bird (Pop) he should be in Dunedin for the funeral, not mucking around in Hawke’s Bay with me. And off it went. I didn’t see it again.
In a final twist today, guess the name of the song the kids sang in at school assembly today? Cheeky Little Fantail. :)
RIP Uncle Woodie and keep resting easy Pop.