Having chosen to chain myself to the written word these last few weeks, I've enjoyed those crazy little diversions which crop up every now and then. Things which I wouldn't often pay much attention to. We've had a small flock of 7 or 8 juvenile rosellas move into the trees at the bottom of the garden for the last month. One of my favourite birds. Beautiful plumage! The adults are a stunning blend of blue, crimson, flashes of green. (This superb image below uploaded from Flickr with thanks.)
However, their presence has disconcerted the wattle birds who usually live there. The wattle birds are not only territorial, but have to be one of the grouchiest. Even their call sounds like a repetive 'Grouch! Grouch!'
While they'll usually chase other birds out of their territory, like most bullies, they're easily scared and the presence of the rosellas has sent them scuttling to the lawn outside my window... where they've discovered the pear trees and the blackbirds and sparrows and starlings and honeyeaters. Having been displaced, they now spend all their time chasing the other birds out of this end of the garden, protecting whatever bits of fruit are lying on the ground, perching in the tamarillo to keep a fighting eye on their fiefdom.
Or were, until a couple of rosellas came up to graze. Didn't hear a peep from them then. Managed to get a couple of shots, until I figured it was time to stop staring out the window and get back to the words... or even a little bit of Monty Python.
