A little voice whispered urgently into my ear this morning, willing me to get up and come and see something. Quickly. This is not my favourite way to wake up in the morning, and as I force my eyelids apart and activate sleeping muscles, tiny arms pull back the warm covers and start pulling on my hand.
It takes me a moment, but I am soon on my feet. My questions are shushed as I am led to the front door of our cabin and asked if I am ready. “Not really…ready for what?”, I wonder. Flashing her bright smile from behind the unbrushed coast-hair hanging over her face, she slowly pulls back the curtain.
“We had a sleepover, and we didn’t even know it!”, she whispers with delight.
And there on the front deck, laying sideways with it’s head resting on a front arm is a young joey, eyes still closed and clearly asleep. We delight in the long eyelashes and the tail dipped in black. We admire the fierce looking claws and strong legs stacked to the side. We notice that we have been noticed, in the twitching of ears as our visitor also comes to waking. I can sympathise with that feeling of being woken from a deep, warm sleep. Different to me, however, within seconds of being woken, it was up and off at a pace, knocking over a nearby umbrella in the haste.
“I guess it came up here because
kangaroos don’t like sleeping in the rain”, says the not-so-little voice. “And I guess it doesn’t like being woken up, like you and Daddy”, she says thoughtfully. “Maybe it will come again. I hope it was comfy.”
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