This was originally going to be a blogpost about the arrival of spring. Then I realised I had quite a few bird adventures and stories and photos from the past couple of months to share, so I figured I would make it a bird-brained post.
Then, I was originally going to include all my plover stories in the post, but it became really, really long. So the Plover Adventures got their own separate post.
And now, working backwards, here are some of the birds we've had the joy of seeing during winter and spring 2022 in our back garden, here in Brisbane.
The Heron
One glorious winter's day in late July, our backyard was visited by this lil guy. I found out later it was a white-faced heron, the most common heron in Australia apparently - though I'd never even seen one before.
We watched for ages as it grooved all over the garden, paddling the overlong grass and weeds with its feet to disturb bugs and scoop them up to eat. LittleOne and I managed to sneak into the garden and into the playset tent, so we could watch from a much closer vantage point. It had amazing, smooth-looking, grey feathers that could shine pale grey in the sun.
The Crested Pigeon (aka the Punk Pigeon)
Some birds started nesting very early in July, including one crested pigeon in the large, densely-leaved bush near the rarely-used front deck.
It was a good spot, I thought. There was good sun in the day and protection from the rain. I checked it everyday, saw it tucking its head into its wing to sleep, hearing it having cooing conversations with its mate, and watching the world of big people around it with its wide little red eyes.
But one rainy night, I heard a thud followed by thousands of falling raindrops. And the next morning, the bird was gone. There were feathers splashed around the nest, feathers at the bottom of the tree and an abandoned egg that still sits there now. Some kind of predator, obviously. I prefer to hope the bird got out safely, even if the wee egg never made it.
The Indigenous Mynah Birds
The indigenous mynah birds (and their non-indigenous cousins) are a pretty bossy, bullying species. They seem to tail, harass and pester a lot of other birds. Including the much bigger ones, like magpies, crows and cockatoos. But leaving that aside, I found two different lots of indigenous mynah bird young in August.
The kind of young where they're learning to fly, fall out of the nest and in suburbia, are left very open to the elements. One I encountered in the middle of a quiet suburban road, its parents very, reassuringly nearby. I had my LittleOne in pram and Indi-Girl with me, and angsted a bit over whether to interfere or not.
In the end, I tied Indi-Girl's leash to a nearby house gate and left LittleOne in the pram on the footpath next to her in a spot where they could both see me, while I took the 7-8 steps into the road to scoop up the most tiny, terrified, fragile bundle of feathers in the world and popped it onto the grass on the nearby verge. A minute later, as we resumed walking back down the footpath, a car came down the road. Timing and phew!
The second rescue was closer to home. In the back garden, actually. Indi found another tiny bundle of grey feathers in the grass early one Saturday, and before I could do more than take a horrified intake of breath, Indi had opened her mouth and taken an experimental chomp around the whole bird! The baby burst into terrified cheeps, echoed angrily by the nearby parents. I bellowed Indi's name angrily as I ran towards her and after two very long seconds, she flattened her ears and let go. The baby seemed ok, but I'm no vet.
I vacillated about what to do, hustled everyone inside so parent birds could check on baby and did brekkie for LittleOne. Then I gave up and rang the Qld equivalent of WIRES, a wildlife rescue service run by volunteers. They said "vet" because of Indi's chomp, so we aborted brekkie and gathered baby bird from where it was still sitting on the grass in the shade, into a dark box, cushioned with a towel.
We went to vet 1, the local place where we take Indi. Now, the vets in this place have always been excellent. But the level of disinterestedness coming from most of the vet nurses/front of staff has always seemed hilariously high. And this was very true in how they reacted to our baby bird. "We don't take birds. We close half-day today, and we'll call the RSPCA and they won't come, and there'll be nobody here..." *shrug*.
Ooooookay. Message received. Loud and clear.
I rang ahead to vet 2. "Yup, bring the baby bird in! Definitely!" They said cheerfully, compassionately. I knew of vet 2, near my local supermarket, but had never been there. They're at the corner of a busy intersection, too frantic for me to consider taking Indi, who is twitchy in urban spaces at the best of times. But, they have a large street-facing sign with animals-based puns that they change once a week, which is very much a mark in their favour.
LittleOne and I took baby bird in, and in spite of how busy they were, the vet nurse cooed soothingly to it, and went and put it in a room with a heater so it could get warm. She said she would call the RSPCA. I told her what the other vet place had said - about the RSPCA not arriving before the half-day close. Without missing a beat, the vet nurse said, "I'll take it home with me and they can collect it from my house."
... and THIS is how you care, people at the other vet place. This is how it's done.
Feeling good about helping baby bird, LittleOne and I went to the nearby shops to get a bakery treat to make up for the interrupted brekkie. A few minutes in, we got a phone call from the vet nurse, who said the specialist carer wouldn't take it because it wasn't actually an indigenous species of bird, but that the vet had given it the ok. Indi's chomp hadn't hurt it. The best we could do was take it back to where we found it, try and reunite it with its parents, and keep Indi on a close leash for the next day or so.
So back to the vet we went to collect baby bird and home we went.
We popped her on a low branch close to where Indi found her and, within minutes, mummy-bird was there.
Later in the day, baby bird was back on the ground again in a different spot, but shepherded by her parents. They moved around the garden in the afternoon and by evening, baby bird had found somewhere quiet to settle. By the next day - Sunday morning - the baby bird had learnt to fly and it was high up in the magic poinciana tree, cuddling with her sibling and taking turns to raucously demand food from their patient parents.
The Butcher Birds
The butcher bird pair, with their luscious melodious trilling calls, became a more regular presence in the garden during July and August this year. Just like they did last year.
I tend to call them 'Butchie Birds' for LittleOne's sake. And mine too, tbh. It feels a little bit rough aligning these delicate, bright-eyed birds to butchers - as though they're stomping around abattoirs, wearing blood-stained aprons and boots, and carrying meat cleavers in meaty feathered fists.
Don't get me wrong - they do their fair share of intimidating other birds out of the garden, as well as being completely impervious to the bullying by the indigenous mynah birds. But still. The name doesn't exactly resonate with the lush richness of their calls. Let's just say they weren't named by a poet. And they should have been.
Our butchie bird pair have re-built their nest in the exact same spot they chose last year - tucked inside the neighbour's aluminium, louvre-style, external window guards.
I'm still not convinced it's the best spot because last year the afternoon sun would absolutely blaze on those guards. But it's been nowhere near as hot this year (so far), so it looks a better choice. Last year, the butcher bird started its nest on one window guard, changed its mind and moved to its current spot. It then wielded surprisingly-long twigs which clanged frequently against the metal louvre bits as it built its nest. This year, they seemed to build their nest very fast and in minimum time. They clearly learnt from last year!
I rather got the impression they didn't successfully have any babies last year, but I could be wrong. This year, I feel like I haven't heard all the baby cheeps and chirps, but I hope I'm wrong. Edited to add: by October, there's a little baby tucked in the nest!
The butcher birds come regularly to the back deck - to look for lizards and other foods and to drink water from Indi's bowl.
Lately, one or both of the resident butchies have been dropping by 4-5 times a day, clearly regarding Indi's water as their own personal supply.
On one memorable occasion, it landed close by while Indi was there and eating! Luckily, Indi was too preoccupied with her food, although she did look up to side-eye the bird with alert ears.
I saw the wheels turning in Indi's head wondering if it was worth detouring from her food to make a barking/lunge. But in the end, she didn't. Which I was glad about. Indi isn't always consistent in how she reacts to the butcher birds. Sometimes, if the bird lands nearby and trills its loud song, she ignores it, and sometimes, she'll leap up with a couple of loud barks and re-establish her domain for 5 minutes.
But regardless, they remain fearless. They're a pretty amazing bird to be able to see and hear so often. I feel very honoured that they drop by so frequently.
And there you have it. The daily bird adventures which brighten and louden our days and which make you realise afresh that the world is beautiful and fragile and full of song and swoops.
Du fond du coeur x
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