jmgoyder

wings and things

Birdplay

I love watching the birds at play. Even though they spend most of their time pecking around for food – grass, grubs and so on, each breed has its own version of fun:

The guinnea fowl love to dig themselves into any grassless patches and roll around in the dirt. They have also formed a choir and their performances are frequent (about once every hour or so). Their music is a bit of an acquired taste which visitors often refer to as ‘noise’ but we are used to its strange echoes.

The peacocks, of course, love to dance the ‘fantail’. Now, even though it’s only the males who do this, the females find it enormously entertaining (occasionally!) They also play a game called ‘scare-the-hell-out-of-Julie’ which consists of blood-curdling screams which never fail to stop me in my tracks, as they are so piercing.

The chooks love to play hide and seek in amongst the bits and pieces of farm debris. The hens are particularly good at hiding which is probably because they don’t like the roosters’ idea of play which I think is better left undescribed here.

The turkeys love a game called ‘peck-the-duck-until-it-wakes-up’. Even though the following picture is of one of the Bubbles (turkey) and Tapper (duck) when they were young, they still play this game with varying degrees of success.

The golden pheasants used to play a war game that turned out to be not a game at all but a war, with the loser banished to an adjacent property and the winner remaining here, victorious and splendid. And lonely. War games are no longer encouraged here.

The Indian runner ducks love to run around, pretending to be fast and, yes, before they met the emus, they thought they were fast. Unfortunately for the Indian runners, most of the timed races have been won by the Emerys, but the ducks are very dignified losers. The Emerys do concede, however, that they have the distinct advantage of loooooooooooooonger legs!

The best game of all here is waterplay and, since the following photo was taken, we have added a pond so that it isn’t just Godfrey who gets to play.

Oh, I nearly forgot – Buttons, the weiro, likes to boogie on my shoulder. He seems to be able to turn his head all the way around, then does this nodding thing really fast, then he shakes himself, then the whole dance move repeats itself. Since he is on my shoulder more than he is off my shoulder lately, this means that I am constantly covered in a sprinkling of tiny feathers that look like dandruff, as well as, you know, weiro waste (the excitement of the boogie seems to affect his little bowel – oh well!)

The following youtube of a crow snowboarding is accompanied by a rather serious little article about whether birds like to play in the same way humans do. I don’t think it matters.

http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/thoughtful-animal/2012/01/16/snowboarding-crows-the-plot-thickens/

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Waste not, want not

The other day, when I was taking the emus for a walk around and around and around the garden (a previous post describes this marathon!) one of them spied a bottle cap in the grass and promptly gulped it down before I could stop him.

Let me explain: usually our lawn is not strewn with bottle caps, however, having cleaned up after Son’s 18th birthday party, I had missed several of these, some of which had been thrown into bushes or potplants.

Anyway, I was alarmed as, one by one, all of the emus found and swallowed a bottle cap each as if they were on a treasure hunt. They kept hunting for more as if bottle caps were some sort of rare delicacy. I wrestled a couple of these sharp metal caps out of sharp beaks and then got down on my hands and knees and quickly picked up the remainder. When I did this, the Emerys all stood back and watched me as if they thought I was trying to be one of them. The cheekiest one kept trying to grab the caps out of my hand!

There is a lesson here: birds like shiny objects and are attracted to aluminium, plastic, glass, jewelry and anything reflective, so you have to be very careful. Since the bottle cap incident I have been terribly worried that one or all of the Emerys might get sick, but so far so good. I have been giving them plenty of cabbage to make sure! Hopefully the cabbage will provide the roughage required to eradicate the bottle caps (I will not go into detail here about my search for digested bottle caps!)

This has made me realize, too, how the littering around the countryside is probably killing some of the wild birds. We live on a very short road and yet, last week, Son and I collected a garbage bagful of cans, bottles and plastic bags (some empty, some full) that had been dumped here and there on the sides of this road. This probably happens in every country’s countryside – awful.

Other recent realizations:

  • Weiros like cardboard. Buttons has now chewed through nearly a whole pizza box. Yeah, he wasn’t interested in the leftover pizza at all, only the boxes. He is getting fat! Don’t worry, we have now taken the rest of the pizza boxes to the local dump.

  • Red-tailed black cockatoos like anything and everything chewable. Wantok particularly enjoyed power cords, furniture, Abs exercise machines and, before we set her free, human fingers and especially thumbs! I imagine that, by now, she will have eaten a good part of the forest in the hills! Any cockatoo who can eat a wooden chair in one sitting, can eat a tree or two easily! I don’t miss the furniture, which was old anyway, but I do miss Wantok!

I miss a lot of things….

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Now … and then

Now that King peacock has shed all of his tail feathers he has become much less confident and, instead of being somewhat aloof, he follows me around constantly in a needy sort of way, and hangs around the back door. King doesn’t realise, of course, that those tail feather will grow back in a few months. This is what he looks like now:

Husband and I had to endure an appointment with a new Parkinson’s specialist today which took nearly four hours (because it included multiple assessments via a physiotherapist, occupational therapist, speech therapist and nurse). By the time it was nearly over and we had finally seen the specialist, Husband was exhausted, so when he was asked one of the ‘trick’ questions to test his memory, i.e. “What country do you live in?” Husband said, cupping his chin in the palm of his hand, “I don’t think I know that.” The specialist then made a note.

A bit later, in the car, I asked Husband nervously, “What country do you live in?” and he said, “Australia, of course; is there something wrong with you?”

This is what King peacock looked like way back then….

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Flirting

Oh, this is too beautiful.

I have been watching these two peafowl for some time – the blue peacock and the white peahen – because, over the last couple of months, they seem to have formed a tentative romantic relationship. As they are adolescents, it is still at the shy stage of things, and I’ve noticed that they only get close if none of the others are around.

So yesterday, in the early evening, I was surprised to see them together but, as I watched, they were both very careful not to be too forward with each other. They would stand next to each other but refrain from making eye contact and mostly look around as if neither were aware of the other’s presence.

Instead, the peacock looked up into the wattle tree, as if there were something to be alarmed about, and the peahen did the same. That’s when I realised they were flirting with each other because, as we all now know, there was nothing in that tree – not even a Willy Wagtail!

I continued to watch, fascinated, as the peacock kept cocking his head here there and everywhere, pretending (I think!) and the peahen did the same.

They didn’t make eye contact with each other but they did, eventually, begin to look in the same direction as if they had both found a common interest. I began to feel as if my presence, and my camera, were unwanted and that they needed some privacy.

So I left them alone to be too beautiful together.

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And the winner is….

Well, the ‘Where’s Willy’ competition was a great success with 89 subscribers rising to the challenge of attempting to find and count the Willy Wagtails in the wattle tree pictured in my last post. It was a difficult game and, one by one, 86 people had to give up but they should be commended for trying.

Out of the three final entries, it was Magsx2 who submitted the correct answer and I quote:  “I cannot see any wagtails. :lol:

Her prize is a recommendation that you follow/subscribe to her blog and here is the link:

http://magsx2.wordpress.com/

For the other two courageous entrants, your prize is a virtual hug.

And for the 86 who tried, I’d like you to know that I know that you didn’t really try did you – you simply deleted the post; you are all to be commended for your extraordinary wisdom.

Now, the story behind the picture is this: There were several Willy Wagtails frolicking around in the branches of the wattle tree both before and after the photo was taken. This is typical of their devious behaviour and, to top it off, I was dive-bombed by two of them as I abandoned trying to get a photo of them, so there must be nests in that wattle tree but I can’t spot any – can you? No, let’s not go there!

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Where’s Willy?

You know that game called ‘Where’s Wally?’ in which you have to find him in amongst numerous other characters? I’m not quite sure why ‘Wally’ is now ‘Waldo’ because, in Australia, ‘wally’ is just slang for idiot, but perhaps ‘wally’ is yet another politically incorrect term. Anyway, here is an example of the game:

Now, if you have read my previous post  you’ll realise that this morning I had to traverse Australia with four emus – the Emerys. We have only just returned and I’m exhausted, so I thought it only fair to exhaust you guys too by presenting you with a challenge. It’s a game called ‘Where’s Willy?’ The first person to respond by telling us how many Willy Wagtails are in the wattle tree pictured below will receive a reward. Good luck!

By the way, in Australia, ‘willy’ is slang for a particular male appendage, so I would like it noted that this is simply an unfortunate coincidence and this game is about birds and nothing else.

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“I’m just walking the emus – be back soon!”

Ha! ‘Back soon’? Sure. Try nearly two hours later – argh!

Now, I should have known I might have to do several laps of the house, the farm, the district, the state, the whole of Australia, because the other day I let the Emerys out and they wandered farther than usual. In fact, I only turned my back for five minutes and they’d gone – phut!

Son and I searched the whole farm – he on his motorbike and me on foot, then in the car – and eventually we found them in one of our front paddocks, right next to the actual road! In order to get that far they’d have had to get over a water channel and through a few fences. We eventually herded them onto our driveway and all the way back to their yard, by which time Son was furious with me but I will spare you our little tiff, except that I was commanded NOT to let them out again.

Well you know me; I want all the birds to be able to free range. So yesterday afternoon while Son was sleeping off his party, I let them out again. This time I followed them everywhere and that’s exactly where they went – everywhere!

I became terribly thirsty but I didn’t dare go inside and get some water because I thought they might disappear again. And I couldn’t even go to the box of cabbage near their yard, so I didn’t have anything to lure them back there. Days later (well, that’s what it felt like), Son woke up and came outside to find me exhausted and bedraggled. “Help me!” I gasped wearily.

Son, his mouth set grimly, took over the herding while I staggered on wobbly legs (I haven’t walked that far in years!) to fetch cabbage and, in no time, they were in their yard. I then received a stern lecture from Son to which I nodded compliantly and made several false promises.

Today, I will let the emus out again but this time I will take enough water and supplies for several days. If you don’t see a post from me for awhile it just means the Emerys and I have ventured into the hills. I will leave Son in charge of Godfrey and the gang. He’ll love that!

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Where is Zaruma?

Peacock 1: Have you guys seen Zaruma? I’m worried about him.

Peahen 1: Who’s Zaruma?

Peacock 2: You know – that duck that Godfrey loathes.

Peahen 2: Oh, the ugly one?

Peacock 1: Come on – he can’t help his looks.

Peahen 1: Last I saw he was still trying to hang out with the gang.                                     

Peacock 3: Can he fly? Maybe he’s in a tree.

Gang: We’re not supposed to have anything to do with you, Zaruma – go away before Godfrey sees you here.

Zaruma: What if I promise never to poop in the pond again?

Gang: Take it up with Godfrey. Now get lost!

Zaruma: I wish I could be a kid again. It was so much easier.

Peahen 1: I found him! Come on darling, come on Zaruma. Don’t you worry about that big bad gander; we’ll look after you schnookums.

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Blog conundrums

Husband loves the blog because he has always been proud of anything I’ve written (even though, like Son, he doesn’t like reading!)

From time to time, I have shown Husband various posts in which his health situation has taken precedence over the topic of birds and he has been fascinated to see himself, pictured and written about. I was so worried that he would object to his/our story being made so public but, as we have always been very honest with each other, I felt I needed his permission to continue.

He gave this permission unreservedly, we wept together about a couple of the sad stories and he hugged me. “Keep writing, Jules. This is good.”

Phew!

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The waterbabies!

Emu 1: So this is her idea of a pond is it?

Emu 2: Stop complaining – apparently we need to talk to that Godfrey guy, you know, the big gander. Oh, this chopped cabbage is like heaven; she really does that well.

Pearl: Mr God, sir, those emus want to talk to you.

Godfrey: What now? Can’t you see I’m busy? This water is filthy!

Seli: Sorry, sir, but I think they want to form a working party to sort out the pond situation.

Godfrey: This is getting ridiculous. Since when do emus like to swim? Woody, go and tell them that they may use the kiddy pool for the time being, but no splashing, no pooping and one at a time only.

Woodroffe: Yes sir.

Godfrey: Stop swanning about, gang! This is serious.

Emu 1 to other emus: C’mon, Emerys – this is lovely!


Emu 2: The Godfather said only one at a time.

Emu 1: Okay, just give me a moment. Oh, wow!

Godfrey (honking from a slight distance): Tomorrow’s meeting will commence at 6am sharp. We will form a working party consisting of three geese, one duck, one turkey and one – I repeat, one – emu. In the meantime the emus may continue to use the kiddy pool but not the pond. Agenda items:

  • bigger ponds
  • more ponds
  • cleaner ponds
  • separate ponds for different species

Phoenix 2: Have you guys heard about this meeting?

Peacock: Don’t worry about it, Goldilocks, it’s just a poultry thing.

Phoenix 2: Oh.

Whitey: You know little Tapper, the duck? He told me that the Godfather wants to have regular meetings from now on. Can you believe it?

Phoenix 2: But why?

Whitey: Well, Tapper thinks it might be all Zaruma’s fault because he keeps secretly pooping in the pond.

Bubble: Godfrey said he only wants one turkey in the working party, so do you want to do it? It would be a good experience for you.

New turkey: I would be honoured.

Bubble: Good boy.

New turkey: I’ve only been here a little while but I really love it.

Bubble: Mmmm.

New turkey: There’s never a dull moment!

Pearl: Woody, would you mind representing me at the meeting today? I have a headache.

Woodroffe: Of course, Pearly, you’re my favourite sister in the world.

Pearl: You do have Diamond.

Woodroffe: Diamond’s a boy – remember? So she’s my brother.

Pearl: Oh, my head is pounding.

Ola: Woody, where’s the meeting?

Woodroffe: The greenhouse.

Ola: Is the woman coming?

Woodroffe: Hell, no – Godfrey would never allow that!

Ola: Well, I think she should be involved.

Woodroffe: I agree but I’m not going to bring it up.

Ola: In that case, I will. I adore her.

Woodroffe: I do too, but please don’t tell Godfrey.

Zaruma: Will you guys shut up. Let’s get this over with.

Ola (whispering to Woody): Little does Zaruma know he’s in big trouble.

Woodroffe: Well it’s his fault for pooping in the pond all the time.

Emu 1: So much fuss about nothing!

Emu 2: I dare you to get into the kiddy pool while they’re in the meeting.

Emu 1: You are on!

Emu 2: No, no – I was just joking. It’s too risky!

Emu 1: I’ll show you how I dunk my head in the water – it’s amazing!

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