Bird Watching

I’m not an avid birdwatcher, heading out with binoculars in hand, creeping around the bush quietly in an attempt to seek out the rarely seen spotted blue plumed something or other. I simply appreciate the many varieties that come and visit my own garden, am fascinated by their just as many and varied habits, and enjoy the seemingly endless ways in which they sing and call and communicate with each other.

At this time of year though there is an added attraction, for it’s not unusual to come across small hawks in our region, sitting on paddock fences lining the road, sometimes taking off gracefully as vehicles approach, while at other times remaining defiant and ignoring passing cars as they concentrate on their main objective. Birds of prey by their very nature are killing machines. Their survival depends on their ability to hunt, and they do it so spectacularly.

A pair of eagles live just down the road and are often seen soaring above us. It is almost like everything is in slow motion as they glide in ever widening circles, until movement on the ground signifies that lunch is prepared and they go in for the kill at an alarming rate of knots. The hawks however appear less menacing, simply because of their size, but try as I might, I’ve never managed to get close enough to convince one to pose for the camera.

So, while they’re around for the summer, I’m content to simply appreciate their beauty and skill and watch from afar as they revel in their natural habitat.

Hawk’s feather

uniquely patterned

soft on my cheek

Awesome Foursome

How can you resist

a warm and vulnerable

lapful of puppies

Baa...where's my coat?

Pure white sheep

in the teeming rain

freshly shorn

When I drove to town yesterday I glanced across at the paddock and thought the farmer had square bales of hay on the ground, well, rectangular ones, you know what I mean. I thought it was a little strange as most hay is now in giant round bales, some of which are wrapped up in pretty coloured protective coats to prolong their life. However, a second look made me realise they were actually sheep, all of which were contentedly lying down, motionless, and rather grubby looking sheep at that, hence my mistake first time around.

Coming home today from town the same paddock was a vast contrast. Through the pouring rain and the wipers going flat chat, I spotted bright white blobs on legs wandering aimlessly, probably bemoaning the fact that today had been their scheduled appointment with the shearer. They would’ve enjoyed it yesterday, being relieved of their woolly layer when the weather was starting to feel almost tropical, but not today. Looking naked and decidedly vulnerable in the miserable weather, I hoped that at least one of them might have the sense to lead them to a big tree under which to shelter.