the scaly hoop , hopping and skipping in the gravel as though it has a life of its own , as though it was there to amuse me with an act which i alone got to view that wonderful , wintry desert day , somersaulted brightly , tumbling , whirling , spinning and revolving , it twirled itself into a perfect hoop guided by -- the old drover , the unseen hand , the tricksters magic ?