Surprise on a morning romp

Kookaburras laughter resounded raucous
through the forest this morning
as I drove my way
through winding,
early-sun dappled
orange dirt roads
wet with puddles from recent rain.

A burnished sky
with the rising sun
hadn't burned moisture out of lowlands yet,
ribboned with
wisps of fog among gum and pine trees,
clinging like filmy scarves
wound gently 'round women's slender necks.

Magpies chortled
while traversing narrow "bush roads"
where diverse gum trees with broad, narrow, wet leaves
caught the sun
reflecting light
like silver filigreed Christmas ornaments.

Out of the woods and onto the paved road,
a mother kangaroo and baby
tentatively bounded out of bushes
and stopped
just yards in front of my slow-moving car.
The pair of roos continued
on the safer, far side of the road
away from me.

I stopped to watch them.
Her baby, previously frolicking at her side was alarmed
when my mud-splattered car appeared and
after taking a tentative look at me
jumped head-first into her protective pouch with
his back legs sticking straight out.

The mama roo perused me,
paws protective in front of her tummy
while her youngster found refuge
wiggling his way down
into his mother's warm, soft belly.

Then, with baby safe,
she turned her stubby, grey-furred, muscled body
away from me
without a backward glance
and hopped effortlessly over a barbed wire sheep fence.

On the other side
she stopped and stared with her deep, brown eyes
as I crept by
in my sedan.

She watched me with caution,
her dangerously sharp claws
protective over the pouch where her youngster hid,
back legs still sticking out.