Cross the highway and follow the uneven footpath down among the houses. To your left a pillar stands where right upon a cat is perched, waiting as the evening's welcome party. As it arches its back to receive a friendly pat the dog next door responds with overtures of jealousy. Do not falter in your steps, but progress further down the path, leaving the roar of the fast-paced city behind. It dies slowly and is replaced by the melody of the evening's feathered friends heralding the dying of the day. Where the family of wattle-birds squabble over a golden hibiscus turn from the footpath and continue on into the unkempt grass that brushes against your bare legs. Ahead two ducks share a meal while in the distance a sacred ibis feasts alone. They remain at peace if poised for flight, but will keep a wary eye until you pass. The giant tree has lived its day, and hollowed out remains a sceptre of its past, but not devoid of life. Widely skirt the lifeless boughs that hum and buzz as bees swarm by. They cause no harm but fill the air with soothing sound, and promise better things to come. The pink and grey galahs across the way are busy too: they're mounting guard and have two new mouths to feed. A yearling magpie runs across your path, crying for its mother, though she’s only paces away, foraging for food amongst the leaf litter and bark. As dusk falls a new chorus joins in: taking advantage of the cool air the frogs emerge and singing from the growing shadows, welcome you home.