I guess emus don't do social distancing.

The dry grass swayed gently as I caught sight of an emu standing still, its form blending seamlessly with the landscape. It seemed both out of place and perfectly at home—its shaggy feathers mimicking the texture of the surrounding brush. It stood there for a moment longer, its head tilted slightly as if pondering my presence before it took a few deliberate steps further into the grass. Watching it disappear into the golden expanse, I was struck by how creatures like this carry an air of timelessness, their existence a quiet reminder of the land's ancient rhythms.