He stopped the car in the carpark of an old, wooden railway station and got out to stretch his legs. The station had been decommissioned many years ago and had been converted into a historical museum with fading signs, peeling paint, and rusty iron contraptions scattered near the entrance. It was 4pm on a Sunday, so nobody was around.

A sign next to a gravel trail said ‘nature walk’ and pointed towards a cluster of gum trees 200m away. He decided to follow it and see what nature he could find.

Within the trees, the track circled a small pond with rocks, moss and clicking insects. There were two small herons standing in the cool, moist air. One watched him walking by with some curiosity as if it might start a conversation. The other was the very opposite and kept its back to him, making him feel unwelcome.