eye level bird life

Spring comes in with a rush, the first indication of the season change is being woken as early as 4am by the butcher birds. Of course their call is so beautiful, clear and melodious that its easy to listen to as you fall back to sleep. Next clue comes from the cyclists, or rather their bike helmets which begin to sprout sprays of black electrical cable tie bristles -in an attempt to discourage arial attack from the increasingly territorial nesting birds.  Given that the back verandah of our house is at tree top level, we get a close up view of the bird life and inevitably we become emotionally invested in the dramas of the fledging brood.
This season has brought strange weather challenges, with days of wild wind and torrential rain. There must have been some event which compelled the three butcher bird chicks to leave the safety of their nest too soon. Eric the cat brought in no.2 chick early one morning and we managed to re-locate it unharmed to a box tree branch above the back verandah, then watched keenly as the parent bird continue to feed it in it's new spot. Barely had the warm inner glow of knowing we had averted disaster, than Eric brought in no.3 chick, again unharmed, and again we relocated it to the nearest branch. Now of course we have begun to assist the parents by putting out little portions of meat and watch as they ferry the beak-full to each of the three chicks in their various locations.The female comes right up the the plate as we put the food out, so close we can see the lovely whiskers at the edge of her beak. The male hangs back and waits until we move further away.  Obviously the two younger chicks are having some difficulty hanging onto the branch as they seem to keep ending up back on the ground and sure enough Eric brings no. 2, or is it no.3? chick back into the house again the next morning. Now we are desperately involved. We watch as the parents cleverly stash surplus food in the fork of small branches and learn to recognise their strident warning calls as they swoop on unwitting pedestrians on the footpath beside the house. The next night brings torrential rain, the wind blows and we anxiously wonder just how the chicks will fare. In the morning it is clear they have not held onto the branch, but they are vigorously calling out to be fed. Following the sound, we find them in the vegetation below the tree. The smaller chick is wet and weaker now but again we fix them both up onto the branch. Feeding continues but chick no.3 is falling behind, it is just that bit slower now to open its beak, we can see that most of the food goes to no.2 Later in the morning no.3 falls down again, we bring it in and warm and dry its feathers, but a little later the chick dies.

Over the following week the two fledglings strengthen and thrive, despite more wild westerly winds. Now moving from tree to tree and further from our viewing zone, still we can locate them from their calls to the parent birds. This drawing by Peter Slayter reminds us that Butcher Birds are ruthless nest robbers, no doubt they have fed their chicks this season from the noisy miner's nests nearby. If so, then good, all the birds in the area would benefit from a predator to keep the Noisy Miner population in check, their collective strategy of aggression has diminished the once wide range of bird common to this area.