I am enjoying a “day off” so to speak. Day off in that I am not in the field, but “day off” because I am in fact taking the time to do all the piddly things such as e-mail updates to my supervisors, finishing arranging files and uploading them to a network, clean gear, update data files and now a little time to write.
It is actually a fact that I would rather be in the field recording the birds, but I am so tired because a couple nights ago, the mice plague gang ran across my head, my pillow, and my bed all through the night. They were having a ball, that is until I got up and stole the snap traps from the kitchen, emptied out the mice occupying them and set them around by bed. So they themselves went to bed, taking care to not set the traps and left me bleary eyed at pre-dawn tramping across the outback to greet my apostlebirds with bread for breakfast.
The Lakeland Clan were all too happy to see me, and came down to present their colour banded legs and all call at once in disharmony to the eight screeching fledglings. EIGHT extra hungry SCREECHY birds on sleep deprived headache. They are lucky they are so cute and fuzzy or I may have gotten angry and refused them more bread. But try as they might to make my head explode, their side cocked fuzzy heads with upward gaze was enough to keep my head intact. So feed them I did, until the constant cacophony of calls tamed down to a string of calls, some overlapping, some single and clear, and then, and only then could I record some clear calls.
Throughout the day, the clan moved up and down the creek (but different sides, different feeding grounds). I was lucky that despite all the movement on a day where I may have liked some more stability that they chose scenic locations by the White shouldered kite and her fledgling. She is one gorgeous bird! And even though her profile soaring in the morning sky caused the apostlebirds to alarm call and dive for cover, she showed no interest in the apostlebirds themselves. She soared in circles, returning to her child, and as she approached the youngster, I could hear these high pitch pick calls increasing in frequency. Pic……………….Pic………………….Pic………..…Pic………. Pic……..Pic…….Pic….Pic…Pic..Pic..Pic..Pic..PicPicPicPicPicPic. The call? Her call or her fledgling, I don’t know as they were high in trees, but it sounded cool. She also would do these food transfers in the arm and would dive up and down in the distant sky, which provided great entertainment while my otherwise chatty birds, with tummies full of bread and insects would sit preening in the sun.
The harmony of fluffy birds in the sun, beauty in the sky, azure horizon, red soil and marching ants was soon broken by the arrival of a Sparrowhawk. Woosh……….. into the apostlebird tree! Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, and scatter in the trees. Picau picau picau, wings all over and jumping in branches and then the hawk is gone. I count my birds. I can’t see them all. I start to feel a lump in my throat. Did I see her leave with a bird! Did I! Did I!
“Krich?”” Krich, Krich?” Here comes a few juveniles. “Da dee doo, Da Dee do”. A few adults . The Lakeland clan slowly emerge from the trees and gather in front of me. Where was their reward? Their bread? Surely, that feat of predator avoidance warranted more bread? Extra bread?
I count them all twice, three times, and yes, all birds are there. I breathe a sigh of relief, but the birds are impatient. Life is short, you eat, you chat and then a hawk comes, and they want to get to the eating part now. I catch a fledgling tugging on my recording bag, another fuzzy one examining my lunch box, and a few on the ground pecking at crumbs. “All right, all right, you crazy birds, have some more bread, but I want you to call for the mike”. I shouldn’t have asked, because they burst into a flurry of calls, fights, jumps and it is another 8 minutes before they settle down into steady calls and normal food seeking behaviour.
And that is basically how my days go. Happy chatty birds clamoring for food, settling down, followed by natural food seeking, then visits by small number of birds that I surreptitiously feed so they will stick around and call without the attention of more birds that would come and make a fuss and render all hope of single clear calls impossible. Then the group follows, I follow at a distance, and we repeat all over again, and again, and again. Always with more beauty of nature and apostlebird antics.
Now you can see why I take so little “days off”. No point. Day off are computer days, tired days to recuperate from physical tiredness and blisters. Days to write (yay), days to maybe bake some cookies (yum), do laundry ( no more stink), claen mouse poo off (actually that is everyday, twice a day) and visit with the Cottager Clan (the station apostlebird residents). Days to sometimes read a book , maybe. Aaahh… my birds await.
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