Palm Sunday

Image: 'Corella' by Tony Wellington

An unusual trinity.

With fortunate and importunate events happening as they will, I did not get to attend Mass on Palm Sunday.

What I did get a little time to do, was to loaf for a bit in the local park and oggle the corellas. I'm no ornithologist, but in my 34 years I've seen an incredible growth in the variety of native bird species that inhabit Sydney. Possibly this has something to do with urbanisation patterns, and the re-growth of 200 years worth of foliage that we sort of thoughtlessly shredded in colonising this pretty little harbour. We didn't have corellas when I was a kid. We do, now.

Corellas look like cockatoos, but sound like a Nokia 5110 with the volume on 'loud'. There were two in particular that had me entranced. These two were having some sort of dominance stoush - I'm not sure if the wing display and hop-step dance they performed is peculiar to the species, or was developed specifically for the purposes of their bird-argument, but the call and response echo of it intensified as the minutes passed. It looked like these two were going to perform their own imitation of shredding.

A third bird, who had been peacefully rooting up the grasses nearby, flys over and dramatically lands, overwhelming both of my dancers with her (deliberately chosen) swoop. She's not impressed with these two who look like they're about to peck each other's throats out. She walks in little semi-circles to separate them, waits to see that they're not eyeing each other off, then for all intents and purposes, appears to demonstrate the correct behaviour, pecking serenely once again at the ground.

One of the original two, obviously under the impression that she's distracted now, goes again for the jugular of the second, one foot up. She's onto it like flypaper, screeching out an 'I'm NOT impressed!' birdwarning. They eventually get the hint, and take up her example, rooting and chit-chattering peaceably once again.

An unusual trinity.

If I had been to Roman Catholic mass, the readings would have included Mark's Jesus, on the cross, screaming out 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani'. (God, god, why have you forsaken me). It's Jesus in his most human moment, appearing momentarily to have lost connection with the trinity, the Holy Spirit that connects him, the Son, to the Father.

If I had made it to Mass at the Parish of St Uriel , I would have listened to the intonation of 'Hekas, Hekas, Este Bebeloi' (far, far from here, be the profane). It's an instruction from the human level made to um, nefarious influences, to take their party vibes somewhere else for a while, divine presence is about to be at hand.

Two forms of implied Trinity, so different, but with such similiar syllable count, described in words. One form of Trinity, separating, but unifying, expressed in the behaviour of corellas. Three trinities, all orthogonal, sure, but united, somehow, on my Palm Sunday.