Mountain Tails Read Online Free Page B
very serious; deadly serious, you could say. All that moves is his tail, up and down, slowly, a lever to keep him balanced on such a small perching area. Below this kookaâs post a magpie struts back and forth, like a goalkeeper, keen to beat him to that worm. Magpies rule here. Theyâre also carnivorous, and itâs not the size of the beak that counts...
When Iâm digging in the garden, several kookaburras post-sit like this and watch, ready to dive right next to my feet if thatâs where a worm, or part of one, is exposed. Itâs a little nerve-wracking, but not as much as it would be if I werenât wearing gumboots. Toes are rather like fat pink grubs, arenât they?
If a kookaburra catches a larger creature, like a lizard or snake, that mighty beak holds it firmly while bashing the dangling prey against a branch or a rock to kill and soften it for eating. When I was a child someone told me kookaburras laughed when they did this, which made me dislike them as cruel and gloating, but I know now that this isnât so, and in any case, only human animals have those qualities.
I donât see whether kooka or magpie scores this time but both are always extremely quick to react when something tasty appears. Zoom! I rarely see them disappointedânot many worms get away.
Just beyond them a wallaby grazes steadily across the paddock outside the fence, her joey-laden pouch seeming to skim the ground as she does. Sheâs going about her daily business, like my feathered neighbours, and not bothering about me or mine. Itâs a good neighbourhood that wayâand no barking dogs, whining mowers or hedgetrimmers, nor thumping music as son-of-house-four-doors-up washes the family car under duress.
TWO-BY-TWO
Once I saw a strikingly symmetrical composition of creatures in the orchard, a line-up of paired animals.
Two kookaburras sat opposite each other, on two stakes of a netting guard; below each one stood a magpie; and just beyond them, outside the fence, two kangaroos faced each other as if posing for a coat of arms.
It was a fortuitous flash that soon broke apart, but it made me think of the animals queuing for the Ark, and thus my Refuge as being like that. Only itâs not Godâs punitive Flood they need refuge fromâitâs Man.
CONSORTING COUPLES
Not all pairings are so visually brief as my kookaburra coat of arms. Amongst the small birds here, I notice several in constant couples. Iâm not a proper birdwatcher; I donât have the binoculars and the bird books or my attention as handy as I should to qualify for that, so these birds have to be pretty obvious for me to notice details of their relationships.
The Welcome Swallows are definitely in favour of monogamy and the nuclear family. They twitter away in their little voices only to each other, despite the intimacy youâd expect to be generated between us by their returning to take up their permanent casual lease here each year. They look kindly at me, but I suppose they think I couldnât possibly understand, poor grounded thing that I am, so they donât actually address me.
Swallows donât always choose their nesting spot well. In fact, from my personal experiences Iâm inclined to substitute âoftenâ for âalwaysâ, if I consider the faulty choice from both points of view: my convenience and their safety.
Needing some sort of ledge as a building platform, door and window lintels are popular. Then my hopper window gets spattered with white droppings if opened, or the doorstep perpetually does, or I occasionally do!
And they might choose a ledge so close to the tin eaves that the nestlings run the risk of frying as the days heat up. Or one thatâs too narrow; Iâve seen a half-finished nest fall off, smash and be rebuilt twice on the same inadequate support. Not real smart. Or once they chose a ledge right outside my bedroom window, to be sure I heard the
When Iâm digging in the garden, several kookaburras post-sit like this and watch, ready to dive right next to my feet if thatâs where a worm, or part of one, is exposed. Itâs a little nerve-wracking, but not as much as it would be if I werenât wearing gumboots. Toes are rather like fat pink grubs, arenât they?
If a kookaburra catches a larger creature, like a lizard or snake, that mighty beak holds it firmly while bashing the dangling prey against a branch or a rock to kill and soften it for eating. When I was a child someone told me kookaburras laughed when they did this, which made me dislike them as cruel and gloating, but I know now that this isnât so, and in any case, only human animals have those qualities.
I donât see whether kooka or magpie scores this time but both are always extremely quick to react when something tasty appears. Zoom! I rarely see them disappointedânot many worms get away.
Just beyond them a wallaby grazes steadily across the paddock outside the fence, her joey-laden pouch seeming to skim the ground as she does. Sheâs going about her daily business, like my feathered neighbours, and not bothering about me or mine. Itâs a good neighbourhood that wayâand no barking dogs, whining mowers or hedgetrimmers, nor thumping music as son-of-house-four-doors-up washes the family car under duress.
TWO-BY-TWO
Once I saw a strikingly symmetrical composition of creatures in the orchard, a line-up of paired animals.
Two kookaburras sat opposite each other, on two stakes of a netting guard; below each one stood a magpie; and just beyond them, outside the fence, two kangaroos faced each other as if posing for a coat of arms.
It was a fortuitous flash that soon broke apart, but it made me think of the animals queuing for the Ark, and thus my Refuge as being like that. Only itâs not Godâs punitive Flood they need refuge fromâitâs Man.
CONSORTING COUPLES
Not all pairings are so visually brief as my kookaburra coat of arms. Amongst the small birds here, I notice several in constant couples. Iâm not a proper birdwatcher; I donât have the binoculars and the bird books or my attention as handy as I should to qualify for that, so these birds have to be pretty obvious for me to notice details of their relationships.
The Welcome Swallows are definitely in favour of monogamy and the nuclear family. They twitter away in their little voices only to each other, despite the intimacy youâd expect to be generated between us by their returning to take up their permanent casual lease here each year. They look kindly at me, but I suppose they think I couldnât possibly understand, poor grounded thing that I am, so they donât actually address me.
Swallows donât always choose their nesting spot well. In fact, from my personal experiences Iâm inclined to substitute âoftenâ for âalwaysâ, if I consider the faulty choice from both points of view: my convenience and their safety.
Needing some sort of ledge as a building platform, door and window lintels are popular. Then my hopper window gets spattered with white droppings if opened, or the doorstep perpetually does, or I occasionally do!
And they might choose a ledge so close to the tin eaves that the nestlings run the risk of frying as the days heat up. Or one thatâs too narrow; Iâve seen a half-finished nest fall off, smash and be rebuilt twice on the same inadequate support. Not real smart. Or once they chose a ledge right outside my bedroom window, to be sure I heard the
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