NEST

A flicking, forked tongue samples the air, sensing its prey. The atmosphere was dark and damp inside the worn timber and tin structure. During the day, very little light managed to enter through gaps that weren’t already obscured by the gumtrees outside. Everything was quiet and still at night, not even the flicking of the snake’s sensory preceptor made a decibel. But it could taste its target, far above, in the wooden lofts, and it could also taste its young in the nest.

The aged floorboards of the rundown shed housed a central support and several shelves, littered with all sort of disposed cans and half-filled leftovers. Next to some spare rafters and planks, a large pile of frayed and used ropes lay in the far corner. The owls glass-like eyes were fixed on this pile from far above. A rustle from the doorway swings its head half-circle, ready to take flight. Eyes pierce the direction, waiting, until no more sound was heard, and the silent barn owl returns its gaze to the pile.

The snake slithered forth, hidden in the fine gap under the floorboards, strategizing on its approach. Another gust of fierce wind rattled the door again, allowing the snake to make progress from such a distraction. The heat from the Australian landscape on that day had remained, and with water scarce, the owl will have to leave soon – whether for thirst or food for her young. As faint light slowly began creeping in through rusted nail holes, the most effective entry point in the floor was found.

Senses were on high alert for the maternal watcher, only newly bringing her young into this world. Two small eggs nestled inside her makeshift cot of sticks and twigs, balancing precariously on the main rafter supporting the angled roof. She will need to feed them again soon, but the present danger had fallen out of sight. The owls head rotated once again, surveying the heated room to gain back intelligence advantage, as a surprise push and attack was inevitable.

Coiled underneath a fragile aluminum frame, the snake prepared to enact its stealth plan. Using the strewn leftovers of timber and metal, it began uncoiling slowly for the center support, but then halted its advance. The owl had changed positions, the snake could taste it on the air, the particles revealing both sides were now playing offense. Confident in its shielding from any airborne attack, the snake moved out from the shelf and under the scraps, as the owl sat perched on the wall stud just above, unaware of how close it really was.

Faint light continued exchanging the darkness of the long night inside the shed, and the heat never wavering, growing in fact. The ever-vigilant owl sat atop the rusted shelf, her flight to the lower position was a dangerous choice, but took advantage of the incoming light to see movement. Her talons gripped firmly on the wooden perch, and her own body motionless, with wings wrapped tightly. A sudden clank on the corrugated roof startles the bird, causing her to retreat back to the loft.

As the rogue tree branch rattles down the roof, the snake is startled, as his prey takes flight back up - returning back to the defensive. Holding its position wrapped around the main support, its body staggered to grip and slowly locomotor its way higher, passing the halfway mark. Each muscle in its body gripping opposite sides of the timber to leverage up millimeters at a time. The light outside grew stronger, as did the heat, stifling the top rafters of the shed, as the snake neared closer to its goal.

Perched in the remaining shadowed corner of the roof, untouched by the growing light, the mother makes a move to protect her eggs. Dehydrated and not having eaten since before engaging in battle, she looked down again to the pile of rope. Inside the frayed cords lay several small reptilian young. Beside them the remains of the two she has eaten earlier that day, angering the mother snake, and causing her now dire situation. Two mothers defending their young, as the flickering light from outside began brightly illuminating a faint mist of smoke. It was still the dead of night, the ever increasing heat was not sunrise.

From inside the nest, the light brought with it the formation of the mother owl's craftsmanship, but also better defined the mother snake's silhouette as well. She slowly uncoils from her advanced position underneath the nest, poising up above the eggs nestled inside. A flight of wings breaks the silence, and the snakes attention is drawn away from the eggs and to her own nest, within the pile of rope. Desperately uncoiling as the owl feasts on her defenseless young on the ground below, he wraps around the owl's nest which begins to break, causing the snake and the nest to become unstable.

Smoke now grows dense within the confines of the old garden shed, as the mother owl races to refuel herself with the remaining young of the snake and to transport her eggs from the incoming fire. As she finishes her meal, she turns to fly up but is stopped by the sight of the snake, falling from the rafter along with her nest, and her eggs. The snakes slender body hits the wooden floorboards with a crunch of rotted wood, as a crackle of flames grows louder. As the nest hits the ground and her eggs break, the mother owl screeches across the smoke-filled floor and wages close combat as the shed begins to burn, engulfing swiftly in flames.

Over 3 Billion native Australian animals and essential wildlife habitats, including 180 Million birdlife and 2.46 Billion reptiles, were lost in the 2019-20 ‘Black Summer’ bushfires.