When my parents first moved into their home, it lacked a sufficient degree of indoor-outdoor flow. After many years, several major extensions, a new deck and big glass doors all along the back, the success of their efforts to remedy this situation is represented by the fact that Frank now flies into the house four or five times a day in search of insects, with the casual insouciance so typical of fantails. He has shown complete disinterest in our attempts to shoo him back outside. In fact, he has taken to bringing other fantails into the house, where they swoop and caper and trill.
Traditionally, the entry of a piwaiwaka into a house is generally considered an omen of death. Some say it just means visitors, but mostly it is death. Hopefully the dread qualities of such an omen are diminished by repetition. Since there has not been a mass outbreak of death in the family or the neighbourhood, I suspect that the amount of death is inversely proportional to the number of visits. It is probable that two visits mean half as much death, and so forth. At Frank’s current rate of visitation, it seems that the family will soon have visited upon it a small paper cut or slightly upset stomach.