Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Close Encounters of the Bird Kind: Bird Whisperer part II

Not long ago I wrote about the swallow that found its way into the office at work. Today I had another close encounter after I heard a solid thump on the office window.

Outside on the ground was a very docile little bird that looked slightly like a small silvereye without the white rimmed eye. It willingly stepped onto my hand and I was able to move it to a safer position on the low branch of a tree.

I was so caught up in the moment that I missed the chance of noting the details that would help me make a positive identification. It was one of those times when a camera would have been helpful. Maybe I’m the only one here at work without a camera now that almost every mobile phone comes equipped with one.

Relying on memory I turned to the birds in backyards website and came up with a tentative identification. http://birdsinbackyards.net/species/Eopsaltria-australis

However, for confirmation I went back outside hoping to see the bird still sitting on the branch where I’d left it. It was there, but before I could have a good look, it flew away.
While disappointed that I couldn’t confirm what it was, I was pleased to see it had recovered from its accident, even if it didn’t recognise its rescuer and didn’t fly to my shoulder to express its thanks.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

The Ill-Advised Practice of Naming Your Livestock – or even your car.

I don’t have any livestock. The deeds of my house prohibit the keeping of livestock on my property. But I can imagine that naming an animal that is ultimately destined for the table would make it much harder emotionally to see that destiny fulfilled.

I have no livestock but I do have a car – one that is being traded in today on another vehicle that is supposed to use 25% less fuel. And while our old car isn’t a living thing – it did get named soon after purchase, and maybe that isn’t helping to face up to the fact that our relationship will be ended today after more than 7 years of faithful service.

What should be a time of excited anticipation – leading to the arrival of the new car, is in fact seriously tinged with sadness. I’ll be sorry to see “Mulder” go.