Black and white, white and black
In the untrimmed grass around a young tree, a black and white cat crouches, half-filling the circle around the slender trunk with fur fluffed out against the cold. Intent green eyes watch a magpie some ten yards away but the bird has turned and is unconcerned, stretching her wings and making a threatening chatter.
From the other side of the metal fence, I stand for a moment and watch. The cat seems to be poised to pounce.
“Not a chance, mate,” I say and walk on.
The cat’s eyes lose focus on the magpie and follow me as I disappear. He knows I am right; but this is only a game and all three of us know it.