The Kingfisher and the Kiskadee

Ancestors, empire, astrology, the curse of sugar, and finding home

Two kingfishers. One flying across the water to meet the other on an island. Flash of electric blue; the unmistakable whistle-call. Something about it feels instantly recognisable to me. Home. My eyes tear – half from the cutting wind, half from age-old emotion. While walking, I had been talking out loud to my recently deceased uncle, my father’s brothe…