Jon Morgan

Good things come to those who wait, they say. Well, last weekend I had an encounter with a very cute rodent that reminded me of the saying. Let me tell you about it.

The university mouse

I was just walking down Swanston Street minding my own business, when I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was in the entryway to a university building, and it turned out to be a tiny mouse. Being me, I went straight for my camera - but by the time I had it out, the mouse had disappeared into the gap in the wall.

I could easily have said “Too bad - I missed it. Guess I’d better get on with my day”. Instead, I waited for a bit to see whether it came out again. It did, before hiding again.

That let me know there was a chance of it coming out again, and I really wanted a picture, I had my camera pointed exactly where I expected it, and zoomed in as best I could. Still, it was low light and the mouse was active, so I didn’t know if I’d get anything better than this one:

Then, after three or four appearances I got the kind of shot I wanted:

As a side note, the blur on the left of the photo isn’t a reflection of the mouse on the right. A second mouse had decided to turn up, leading to there being one on either side of the glass door. I just couldn’t get them both to stay still at the same time…

A well-spent minute

In all, the encounter didn’t last much more than a minute. One mouse went scuttling away, the other one stayed in its hole, and I knew it was time to move on.

Did anyone passing think I was acting suspiciously? Or did they think my actions were too frivolous? I don’t know for sure, but mostly they seemed to just be getting on with their own things and not caring about me (which is how it should be).

I’d already had a good day, so this wasn’t a make or break moment. But it did add something extra to my day without using too much time, and certainly without interfering with my other plans.

The Leicester Square mouse

In February I was in London for work, and one evening decided to go to the opera Boris Godunov. On the way, I passed through Leicester Square, and stopped to admire some of the bronze statues, including this one from Singing in the Rain:

(for the record, it may have been a wet winter, but it wasn’t raining when I took these photos, and I leave the singing to those more qualified than me…)

Then I saw a movement in the bushes. You probably won’t be surprised to hear it turned out to be another mouse. There it was, getting on with its own life, just as the humans round it were. It was once again low light and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to catch it properly, but I did get something:

I think when people see these photos or hear these experiences, it surprises them. And probably more so when I’m literally on the other side of the world there in Tourist Central. In my head I hear them saying:

Come on, Jon, you’re in the famous West End! Why are you wasting your time on a mouse? That’s not what tourists do!

On that point, it’s worth noting that I did still make it to the opera, so I got my West End fix just like any other tourist might. The mouse encounter was a nice extra - just as the Singing in the Rain and Mary Poppins statues were…

Over the rest of that trip, I completed the work I was sent to England to complete. Outside work, I went to some very touristy things - but I also spent a lot of time walking and saw lots of birds and animals, just as I might have done if I were in Melbourne. And sure, some of those encounters took time that could have been used touristing instead, but I was happy with that.

It’s about a way of life

This isn’t really about a particular animal encounter, though I’ve had many wonderful encounters over the years. It’s about a way of life.

To me, it’s about seeing value in the small things of life. It’s about feeling connected to the world. It’s about a willingness to spend the time without knowing exacting what I’ll get for that time (though knowing it will often be good).

It’s about collecting experiences without having to categorise them as “worthy” and “unworthy”, and without thinking I have to set aside a significant block of time and money to make those experiences worthwhile. It’s the thrill of the unknown and the surprising - even if, in the grand scheme of things, most such encounters aren’t particularly groundbreaking.

But finally, what it’s really about is continuing to be me, even when I’m in Tourist Central and everyone knows what I should be spending my time on.

Both when overseas and safely at home, I do go to many of the cultural things that I’m sure I’m meant to go to, including live threatre and concerts and museums and art galleries. And I go to those things because I enjoy them. But those same days you might find me spending time watching yet another sunset or getting yet more pictures of pigeons and seagulls - and having a great time doing so.

When I saw that mouse last weekend, I was on my way back from a production of a Ned Kelly musical by Victoria Opera, which was being revived after 48 years. It was a spectacular performance, far exceeding my expectations, and I’m not sorry I went. But, like with the West End opera and the Leicester Square mouse, there was nothing stopping me enjoying both. They don’t detract from each other.

But it’s not just weekends - I frequently have interesting animal encounters on my way to or from the station when commuting to work, or during a lunch break. It’s not about completely transforming my day, and the individual encounters don’t take vast amounts of time, but they do contribute to making things better.

Having it as a habit means that over the weeks and months those extra minutes definitely add up - but so do the interesting experiences I wouldn’t otherwise have had. And sure, sometimes I won’t end up with anything to show for the extra time - but more often, I end up getting an interesting encounter or at least some decent shots. And that’s true even when my inner pessimist is saying things like “The light’s horrible, and those thornbills and fairywrens keep moving about and hiding behind branches - you’ll never get a decent picture”.

So my experience continues to tell me “Just take the extra minute”. I never know exactly what I’m going to get, but I do know it’s worth it.