I am sitting watching out the window as I write my blog. The day is dawning and the birds are waking. I like and respect animals but am not what you would call a passionate animal lover. I have had my fair share of cats and dogs, experienced owning white mice, and cute little rabbits, gone through the silkworm process and visited many zoos and animal parks.
Since retiring to the Blue Mountains I have noticed birds. I have always scoffed a little at birdwatchers wondering how they could be interested in something that just flits from tree to tree. I realise now how my ignorance hid from me the complexity and the beauty of these creatures.
A white Sulphur Crested Cockatoo flies past the window with his wide spread wings holding him afloat. He parks on a tree and calls his friends to join him. If I call to him with my cocky voice his yellow crown immediately stands high as he turns to stare and then squawks as if to say “you are interrupting, wait your turn.” His majestic all powerful stance glorious against the natural colours of the trees.
Meanwhile I notice our resident Kookaburra and his baby search diligently for worms deep under the green lawn which sparkles from the tiny drops of water from the early morning dew. The mother working tirelessly to stifle the continuous cry of her reliant baby.
I look to my left to the Red Wattle Bird foraging for nector in buds of the grevillia plants. His familiar gutteral chortle filling the air. He is a very territorial bird and fights daily with the other birdlife to retain his home. A few months ago a he was followed relentlessly by his new baby. Today the baby is not seen as I guess he is now making his own way among the blooms of the many small bushes surrounding him.
I know from seeing this all unfold each day that the stunning red, yellow and blue colours of the Rosella’s just behind the house are scattered in the many trees waiting to descend to our balcony with their own distinct sound. They will sit along the rail whistling their melodic tunes with the hope of a handful of seed to enhance their diets.
Not far behind them will be the more graceful and brilliantly coloured Red and Green King Parrots. They are more patient than the others and will come close and look at you when they speak. Cautious at first but then demanding in their request for attention.
Further down the yard I see the distinct black and white of the Magpies foraging among the leaves and debris surrounding the bush. Religiously following the lawn mower gathering the worms as they come to the surface. The Magpie family comes and goes each season. They know our faces and respond immediately to my whistle. Swooping in from nowhere they glide in close knowing there is a handout not far away. It is interesting to watch when they have new babies. They collect the food in their mouth adding to the pile until it is bulging from their beak. It is then time to fly away to the nest where the squawking babies are waiting for them. They overload and quickly return for another round.
Last but certainly not least are my favourites when it comes to feeding. The little Butcher Birds are very cute, quick and silent. They fly high into the trees and sit patiently watching and waiting. When the coast is clear they very smoothly swoop and scoop the tiny morsel of food left for them. They are in and out before you notice.
Some others worth mentioning but not in view this morning are the Lorikeets, Brown Dove, Bower Bird, Plovers , Black Cockatoo and a Tawny Frogmouth. Not viewed but definitley heard is The Big Owl.
I spend much time just watching the birds as they wake, play and rest each day. Time spent watching them strip the bark off the trees or building their nests. Noticing how they go from bush to bush searching for nectar, chasing each other flying in and out of the many branches. At dusk you can see them gliding across the skies rich from the colours of the sunsets looking for a place to settle during the dark hours.