I have to start, right here, by swearing to you that this is true. You can choose to be sceptical, which is your right. If I was sitting where you are now, and about to read what you are about to read, I can honestly say that I wouldn't believe it either. But that's probably more to to with being a cynic than anything else.
So I'm working away, doing what I'm paid to do, during the course of which some YouTube resources were being evaluated. A small and unexpected deviation into the area of Zen philosophy resulted in a number of footages of streams/forests/mountains with the feely-floaty musical background.
Next thing I knew, and I kid you not, into my office flew a Superb Fairy-Wren. Our American cousins should maybe thing along the lines of a "blue jay". It fluttered around alarmingly for a bit, then settled on the top shelf of my professional resources. For a moment there, I thought it might poop on the folders containing the last 7 years of stock take records. That alone gives pause for reflection.
I co-opted a colleague from a nearby office, and together we gently encouraged my little feathered visitor back out into the Wide World. Bird poop on stock take records might be a fair call, but it sure would be a financial tragedy on expensive reference books.
Being Friday, Staff Morning Tea was the next event on my schedule. Don't laugh - its a serious venue for exchanging information, strengthening working networks, ensuring sufficient sugar levels are maintained until lunchtime.
But Blow-Me-Down! (an Australian expression meaning a surprise of sufficient proportions to knock an individual horizontal). When I came back from Morning Tea, my small feathered friend was perched next to the main door of the library, waiting to be let back in.
Now the really spooky part of this is the thought of what might have happened if I'd been reviewing material on, for example, Continental Drift. Would we have had an earthquake?