ABSTRACT
The white patch in a dark blue sky changed shape as he turned or rose or descen ded. Often in winter the grass was also white, thick with frost until ten and even eleven in the morning. In summer it grew high and yellow and was espe cially beau ti ful in the late after noon if the wind joined with the sun to trans form entire paddocks into waves of moving grass, golden and tipped with silver. The thrill of seeing him in that land scape, against that sky, imprin ted an image on my mind that is as vivid now as the sight of him was more than forty years ago. He was Jack, our cock a too, and he was follow ing me to school, flying a bit, then sitting on the handle bars of my bike before flying some more.
