There was an owl in the avocado tree

late yesterday afternoon. 
Middle Cat saw it fly in and settle high up just as dusk was settling. It is very rare to see an owl here, especially in the city so I went out to have a look. Yes, definitely an owl. It was probably a "Boobook". They are not very big. This one was not much more than my hand span - about 20cms high. 
It gave us a sleepy look and settled down, eyes closed, for another nap. I heard it again in the night and that confirmed that I had heard it the previous night too. 
I wonder how long it will stay? Is it taking a holiday from delivering letters to Harry Potter at Hogwarts?
Quite apart from the delight of seeing it was the sheer pleasure of thinking about something other than the endless protests that seem to be dominating the media right now.
Yes, some of those protests are about something important, very important. Others are not.
This morning the front page of our state newspaper is about the demands of the hotel industry to open up to more people. They want to be allowed to have a hundred rather than twenty at a venue. This is apparently so people can drink while watching a football match.  Some of those people would normally be at the football match but "social distancing" has meant that there will be just a fraction able to attend.
Apparently all this is more important than actually getting our economy back to something approaching "normal". We are in the middle of a nasty spat with China -  because we dared to demand an investigation into the origins and handling of Covid19. The Chinese are saying that there has been a massive increase in serious racial attacks on their citizens and that it is no longer safe for  university students from China to  study here. That is nonsense and the Chinese authorities know it but it suits their purposes to say it.
I noted this yesterday because I had to go to a bank. Their ATM in our shopping centre, the only ATM available outside shopping hours,  has been out of action for over a week. I suspect they are intending to remove it. It will leave many elderly people with no available ATM unless they are able to drive - and increasing numbers of them do not.  
The bank branch in question knew nothing about it of course. I did not think they would but they noted my reasons for keeping it open and actually sent an email while I was there. It is unlikely to do any good but at least I have done as I was asked to do. 
Coming out of the other shopping centre however I passed a clothing shop having a "sale" - actually getting rid of summer stock at very, very low prices. There was a neatly dressed indigenous woman standing outside the shop. She was looking at a rack of clothes but not touching any as someone else was pulling things out and roughly putting them back in.  Some of them had fallen to the ground.
I won't describe what happened next. It still makes me too angry to even think about it.  Suffice to say it was a very nasty piece of racial abuse aimed at the indigenous woman who had started to pick up the items which had fallen to the ground. The shop assistant heard it too and came to look just as I was going in to get some help. The indigenous woman was standing there with an armful of clothing being accused of theft. 
    "No, you were letting things fall to the ground. She has already put things back on their hangers," I said. The other woman glared at me and said, "It's all rubbish anyway!" She stalked off.
The indigenous woman looked terrified, as well she might. It would be all too easy to believe that she was planning on shoplifting.  The shop assistant looked at me and then, with a smile at the indigenous woman, said, "Thank you for doing that. They do keep sliding off. Were you looking for a particular size?"
A shake of the head and then a whispered, "Skirt?"
    "We have some on sale inside. Come and have a look," the assistant told her. 
I could see her reluctance but also her longing so I said, 
    "Why not? You might get just what you want."
I spent the next few minutes looking at clothes I did not want while she looked at skirts. She eventually found one and, I was delighted, she looked at me as if to say, "Do you like this one?"
    "It's lovely,"  I told her, "It will go with a lot of other colours."
It was a lovely skirt too. She paid $5 for a skirt marked down from over $100 and went off. The shop assistant asked me if I wanted any help and I told her why I had stayed. 
    "I hope she doesn't remember every time she wears it," the assistant told me.
I hope what she remembers is the shop assistant thanking her.