The East …

She took position at the bottom of stairway for the day and wouldn’t be discouraged. … Though she kept a metre distance, vocal warning if I got too close.
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The curlew is used to the area, frequently seen exploring at night. … They find an out of the way place to wait out the day. … A little out of place on the stairway though.

I don’t mind, all are welcome, unless they prove to be intrusive – like the ibis recently eating all the seedlings. … But this one likes fish, so no problem there.
… of Bris, the Bush Stone Curlew came visiting. Walking past the bottom of the front stairway and there she was, just standing still.
They are commonly seen here at night darting about in search of … what things we search for at night, food and friends perhaps.
Never has one taken to the garden for the day before. Unlike most other birds these Curlews are nocturnal, and hide away during daylight.
That’s two night birds visiting the house this last week, and the Frogmouth was on the fence as I passed by, at arms length again, untroubled.
The Curlew did enjoy the cats leftover fish though, and even broke its safety space and came within a few inches while I put more food in the bowl – hungry.
If you can make space, and leave well enough alone – inside is out – they will come. The natural creatures, expressions of the will to live, and more.
Representations of the divine. The simple pleasure of knowing nature’s primary sense, a sense of peace.
© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look
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Butcher Bird …

A windy morning she came to look, and fetch what the possum left behind on the ground. A little feeding in winter goes a long way, to spring.
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Sitting on the rain cap tied on one of the bee hotels. I have seen them take a bee from mid-air as they dove past.

But no bees now, none before late spring rain and heat, November or December, maybe. It all depends …
… so called, for their practise of skewering prey and hanging it up for later.
A youngster, interested in what I’m up to in the undergrowth.
After a bit of food dropped by last night’s possum perhaps.
A little pleasure, to have animated nature visit so.
And then she’s gone, that’s wild life, in sense.
No judgement, allows the next event to be.
Without prejudice …
© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look
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Kooky …

She? appeared suddenly and waited for me to get back with the camera, as if I was one of the family. See the hitchiker behind the eye?
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The youngster maybe, centre of the garden, between the adults. Learning the ways of the world, a hunting.

Sharp eyed hunter, bright vision in blazing sun or deep shadow … the king of kingfishers is our Kookaburra.
It’s a lovely time of year, the hot summer’s over and a warm wet autumn has begun.
I was taking dead heads from the yellow rose bush out back near the fence when I heard a sound close by.
I didn’t recognise it and thought nothing of it until a big kookaburra appeared just above my head, about three feet away.
It must have been around two feet long, tip to tail, and that beak … a deadly serious hunting tool, to the gardens small creatures.
It wasn’t at all wary of me, probably somewhat used to people given it lives in the suburbs and probably gets fed on occasion.
Then I heard a soft kooky cry from behind me and there was the youngster, or was it the mamma. I don’t know …
And then there were three. One casting around for sign of live food, a movement in the shadows, a flicker of give-away light.
One sitting on top of the clothes line, or watsitcalled. And the other diving towards the far fence to sit high for the outlook.
But no, nothing to be had in my backyard this hour of this day. I ran up and got the camera …
… and some grain bread, but no interest from the family. Their need being for fresh meat.
And I didn’t have any to give … but they let me take a few pix from close by.
A simple pleasure, unhurried.
© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look
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Kooki Kool
Recently a family of Kookaburra’s moved into the neighbourhood, maybe driven by the extraordinary weather and lack of food in their usual habitat. There have been so few insects in the local wild places, as I noted in other posts.
At first they were laughing a lot, as Kooki’s do, and hanging out for a feed. Wherever I went in the garden there they would be, looking at me, sometimes laughing, sometimes ‘asking’ for food – in their way. One day all three came to the balcony and sat for a few pictures, a pleasure for me.
Fresh meat is their thing and with no insects it was mince from my dear and generous neighbour’s fridge, of course I paid my share. Then, after a while, they settled into the area and didn’t ask for food so much. I think they must have found someone nearby to feed them regularly, good for them.
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There is something magical about birds. In the fact of things, wherever you go there you will find a bird. They are everywhere and they see everything, at least more than anything else on the planet. I believe they are known in various cultures as the messengers of the Gods and I can see why, amongst all the creatures they so obviously fly. Magical indeed.
It’s not just in the fact of things that they are respected and even revered, for their form and function, colour and song, their beauty. But in the truth of things, what is behind the fact, they are the ‘messages’ of the Gods. Their forms – of fact – the bringers of that message.
When it happens to you, you will know what the message is, because it is already in you. The sound and sight of a bird will point to it. The thing is not to ignore it since it is from the ‘gods’ and serves the greater purpose of life on earth.
To wake up, to the being of a sunbeam, from the dream of past and future that is the human mind today.
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Walking in the woods the last few days I have been touched by many of our little friends, some yellow backs flashing as they passed swiftly by, some crimson heads bobbing around the bush in front, the royal blue of the long tailed tit, and such high pitched songs that were often bordering on the range of hearing, and all the usual characters heard and sighted in the shadows of the green, coming and going, to me and away.
All in concert, a single song, of the love of where I come from.
Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge
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