This bird looks like it’s ready for a photoshoot.

I paused under the tree to observe the Galah. Its feathers seemed to shimmer faintly in the golden light as though it carried a piece of the sunset within itself. The air around it was still except for the occasional rustle of leaves. It had that peculiar calm that only wild creatures possess—the kind that makes you feel like an intruder in their world. For a moment, it tilted its head as if scrutinizing me back, then resumed its quiet vigil on the branch. There was something oddly reassuring about its presence, as though it had all the time in the world while we rushed through ours.