I guess to write a book you need some sort of imagination.

Imagination is something I have and have had since I was very little.

I was encouraged to have imagination – my Nana Parnell would tell me stories – stories that came from her head, without pictures or books. I had to guess what her characters looked like and think about what she was saying so I could imagine the setting. Often these stories would play in my head, like mini movies – I could see “Joe the Perentie, a big, lethargic goanna, walking slooowly along the bank of Todd River, before he flopped down to rest under the shade of a ghost gum.” Oh yeah, my Nana told The. Best. Stories. Ever! I miss her stories.

I can remember lying in my bed at night too scared to open the window because I was sure there was someone outside who would murder me. He’s coming for me! I would tell my despairing mother.

Yep. Bound to happen in a tiny town that has about five hundred people living in it. Good one, Fleur.

Anyway, I digress. Well not really. I have a thing about noises that go ‘bump in the night.’ I don’t like them.

This noise didn’t go bump, but went ‘Coo-hoooo. Coo-hoooo’ Now obviously living on a farm it is likely to be an owl or some kind of wildlife and yes, it sounded like an owl, but the point was I hadn’t HEARD it before. I didn’t like it because I hadn’t HEARD it before!

‘What is that?’ I asked one night after I’d listened to it for about the third night in a row.

‘Owl,’ the boss replied.

‘Doesn’t sound like an owl,’ I countered.

‘Owl,’ the boss said sternly, knowing my capability for turning a dog trotting down the path into a mob of cows thundering towards the house to eat us whole.

I didn’t believe him.

The next day I went searching and couldn’t find any evidence of an owl, anywhere. (Yes, yes. I can hear you saying it was day time… Not the point.)

Still wasn’t convinced it was an owl.

I kept searching – there had been heaps of pigeons bathing themselves in the sprinkler water and I saw one fly into a tea-tree. Then I heard the noise again – knew it wasn’t a bloody owl!

Baby birds at Fleur McDonald's farm

These two babies are what I found when I went searching and I’m CONVINCED it was their mum talking to the babies so THEY didn’t scared at  night!