I remember, years ago, walking into the bush on a Scout camp and coming face to face with a startled kangaroo.
It turned its head and regarded me, and I looked back. I held my breath.
One of those frozen moments in time. I saw that its eyelashes were impossibly long, that the sun caught its fur and struck reddish embers in it. It kept its bright eye on me, and the long muscles in its thigh tensed, ready to bound.
A minute, two minutes, five – and eventually it turned away and hopped casually into the bush. I went back to camp, beaming.
Years later, I remembered this moment when a small Scout walked out of the bush, face lit up, eyes shining.
‘I saw a kangaroo,’ he said.