Bird Rule Jottings and Fragments

After one camping holiday I wrote in my diary, Birds Rule. Birds make their presence felt in Australia. When travelling you pass through raven territories, the haughty glossy black birds patrolling the highway, swaying their tail feathers in a big slow arc. At dusk along the Murray one is deafened and overwhelmed by thousands of corellas screeching and wailing. At Lake Pamamaroo, egrets spread themselves about the lake for silent solo fishing. One was stationed on a stump opposite our camp and I watched it for days. Occasionally the bird would dip its head in the water; periodically stab a fish and swallow it. Every few hours the bird took a break. The neighbouring egret would somehow know and fly from its fishing spot. Meeting on the shore they engaged in some mutual jumping and cavorting.

Birds Rule: Apostle Birds.

When we camp in the hinterland, I always hope that an Apostle Bird family finds us. Many folk who live in southern Victoria don’t know these birds as they inhabit dry woodlands from the Mallee northwards. They hang around in extended family groups, often about 12, hence the name. They can fly but spend most of the time running about on the ground.

In early December 2013, a mostly Mallee trip was dominated by nests and baby birds. Galahs guarding tree holes. White Cockatoos feeding a moaning baby. Magpies and ravens in training. Begging and whining galore. Eating cakes and drinking tea at Hattah Lake, full of water a family of Apostle birds made their entrance. I made encouraging noises and the group ran towards us like little puppies. They are not a pretty or a colourful bird, grey with coarse spiky plumage with a stern looking face. Their voices aren’t sweet, but rather scratchy and grating. They are constantly talking to each other, vocalizing everything — curiousity, alarm, annoyance. They argue with one another, then next minute preen each other. They run around together, eat together, and then sit down and lean against each other. They were all around and on our feet, picking up our crumbs, but mainly eating seeds. They will eat from your hand like you’ve known them for years.

On the second day, the group introduced us to the baby of the family, noisier than the rest, begging and being fed by many of the group. When a bird of prey flew over, they would all look up and then hide under our chairs. Occasionally the resident magpies would swoop them just to stir them up, but they didn’t take them too seriously, just scattered and croaked their indignation. The group decided to leave the baby with us while they had a break foraging some distance away. The baby made noises for a bit, then settled down with its new baby sitters, falling asleep its beak resting on the ground. When I went down to the lake the family came to see what was happening. I sat in the shallows and splashed them. They came in for a paddle and a drink, chattering all the while. Some years before at Lake Mungo, a dry lake, some Apostle birds visited. Kim put out a bowl of water and they drank it and sat in it and splashed around. I love the way they enthusiastically join in with whatever’s happening and seem to accept you as part of the family for a while.