Just stitching ,sampling, going along without thought, hands slow holding together. I drew the lyrebird years ago and worked the page onto scrim and tissue paper but now coming together. The words to be echoed on the page 'crossing, jumping, springing with impatient activity ..glowing warmth early in the day. ' The story. A chill winter morning in the mountainous bush , foggy and wet leaves dripping. Sun coming through the dappled leaves ...settles on a lone lyrebird digging and scratching, focused on his morning meal. A call to welcome the sun, light of step , watching eyes , still except for the bird springing from one site of intense concentration to another.