Artist(s) unknown
February 26, 2011
SCRUB WRENS – ADDRESS “Garage”
Hanging on the wall in our garage, is a roll of fencing wire. A pair of scrub wrens have built a nest using grass and the roll of wire as foundation. This little family have had several lots of babies in the nest. They do renovate the nest and make a new entance way each time. They keep the old material as foundation, making a bigger and bigger pile of dry grass each time.
Sandra Edlington
WILLY WAG TAIL
Mr and Mrs Willy Wag Tail have built a nest in a shrub in a pot which is in our carport, just outside our side door. We can sit inside and watch the proceedings. They built the nest in 2009 and reared 3 lots of babies.
Between each lot of babies, they would do a little tidy up of the nest. Add a little more Cob web for strength. In 2010 they had 2 lots of babies in the same nest, after a little more renovation. Both parents take full part in the process of rearing the babies. We discovered that they have a special whistle, when they return to the nest, as if to announce to the eggs that it is Mum or Dad here now. When they have sat on the nest for a certain length of time, they whistle as if to call the other parent to come and take over the duty for a while. Some times they would sound cross, as if the other bird had been gone for too long.
The nest is still in the bush in good repair. They can come back any time and take up residence after a little home renovation.
Sandra Edlington
SUPERB BLUE WREN
We live at Compton near Mount Gambier. Our garden is a birds paradise for little Blue Wrens, Willy Wag tails, Scrub Wrens, Finches plus many more varieties pass through in a day searching for food.
Mrs Blue Wren took a fancy to our Christmas tree, growing in a large pot on the back veranda, which sits just on the other side of the window from our dining table. She began building her nest, using grass and cobwebs and dog hair as a lining. We would brush the Labrador dogs and leave the hair in a small pile in the backyard. We were amazed to find that nest building and the sitting and feeding of baby wrens is a family affair. Daddy Blue was also just as much involved with the whole process as Mrs Blue. Also another female who we called Aunty Blue also took as much interest in the nest building and feeding of feeding of the young. At one time they were well into making a nest and the dog took interest in the nest and smashed it. I saw Mrs Blue bring in Mr Blue to inspect the spot where the nest had been. They sat there looking in disbelief. We put a circle of wire mesh around the Christmas Tree to protect the nest from the dogs. The Wrens soon got back into re building and sitting on the eggs. They reared 3 babies in all. Not that we could see the babies during the rearing as the nest is very private and we could not see into it.
I have a photo of Mrs Blue bringing in a beak full of dog hair for the lining of the nest.
Sandra Edlington
February 20, 2011
Cocky Escapee
We always had birds when I was growing up and our front veranda sheltered their cages from the hot sun of a Loxton summer. There was the large built in cage that had fluctuating numbers of green and blue budgies and eggs that never seemed to hatch. However my favourite was the hanging cage which was home to our pink galah, called ‘Cocky’. He could only say one thing, but did this very well screeching ‘Hello Cocky” to any family members or people passing by. It was always tricky to clean his cage, having to remove the bottom without him escaping, but we generally seemed to manage this well.
I was probably in about grade 4 at the local primary school when the escape occurred. The school was within walking distance of our house and being near the river, was home to large gum trees outside the classrooms. In those days air conditioning was not common, particularly in schools, so leaving the hopper windows open gave airflow to the classrooms, but also allowed noises from outside to penetrate the strict silence, often demanded by teachers during the 1960’s.
One Sunday, Mum and I cleaned Cocky’s cage as usual and thought we had safely secured the bottom, to the bars, before we went inside. Sometime later we came out to discover an empty cage with the bottom dangling by only one wire hook. The bird had flown the coop! I searched and searched for Cocky, riding my bike around the neighbourhood, without any success. Quite distraught I got ready for school on Monday morning and emerged from the house to hear “Hello Cocky” from the very tall street light next to our house. Thank goodness Cocky has returned but our problem how was to get him back into the cage? With no time to do so I had to leave it up to Mum who sent me off saying, she would think of some ploy to get him in. However Cocky had other ideas and decided to follow me to school. Obviously carefully watching me, he set himself up in the nearest gum tree to my classroom and spent the morning calling out “Hello Cocky” to me in class and to all the children at recess time. He had a great time and I just felt embarrassed every time the classroom quiet was penetrated by his screeching. It was also an era of running home for a hot meal, if you lived near enough to school, so off I sprinted at lunch time. Naturally Cocky followed me and thankfully decided that he was hungry as well and without too much trouble flew to his cage to get something to eat. Mum and I were quickly able to return him to his cage, where he remained imprisoned for the rest of his long life.
It’s funny, but these days I hate the thought of birds being caged and now, in 2011, I probably would let him have his freedom, while providing a food supply he could access if needed.
Gwen Waters
The Warriparinga Pelicans
As I recall it, Jo, Tav and I headed down to Warriparinga wetlands to feed the ducks. We had been there before, and the variety of bird life there was fantastic.
That morning, we began to feed the ducks and noticed the new ducklings beginning to feed as well. In the distance, about six pelicans were making their way across the pond towards the commotion of the ducks we were feeding. We were feeding close to 50 ducks on the banks of the pond, trying to favour the ducklings who were competing with the adult ducks.
The pelicans swam closer, and as they merged on the group of feeding ducks, what took place next has stayed with me till this very day.
In one swift gulp, the first pelicans bill filled with water, as well as a duckling! Water spilled out of his bill, and the duckling inside was wiggled down his throat. The other pelicans struck, in a strategic operation where the targets were the baby ducklings, not our bread.
I had to distract my son, as my wife and I watched 4 ducklings go down. Because this was happening in the water, we could only watch as the mother and her ducklings swam erratically to dodge the pelican bills. The commotion of the other ducks alarming the attack was quite loud. The sight of the pelicans bill with a massive volume of water draining from it to reveal the duckling inside, and then to squeeze it whole down it’s throat live was quite terrifying, but awesome at the same time.
My son doesn’t recall this event (luckily), but my wife and I will never forget it.
Ian Mackenzie
February 16, 2011
Emu Eyes
I think I was around 7 or 8 and my family and I were travelling from Mount Gambier to Loxton to visit my Grandmother. My Dad was driving, my Mum probably reading and my brother and I had fallen asleep in the back of the car. I used to extend my seatbelt out to lean my head on the part of the door where the window begins, making sure I had locked it just in case it wanted to fling open while we were travelling top speed. In my deep sleep I heard a commotion, my Dad reacting startled and the car jolting in an unexpected way. I opened my eyes and lifted my head to look out of the window, directly into the gaze of an emu. We stared at eachother as it ran alongside keeping pace with the car. We were face to face and only separated by a pane of glass and as my childhood self I remember the emu being so large and unexpectedly frightening. It was probably only a few seconds but has continued into a lifelong wariness (and fascination) of these large birds.
Sera Waters
Sera Waters
Our canary(a life saver)
When I was eight years old my family had a pet canary, called Jasper, that would warble most of the day. It was a pleasure most of the time but on occasion my mother would comment that she would like some “peace” without all the noise.
We grew fruits and vegetables and mum would often preserve them for winter use. With a surplus of strawberries, about 20 kilos, mum set out to make jam in a rather large pot.
The pot was so large it needed about three gas burners to keep the jam cooking.
Part way through the cooking process., my younger brother fell asleep on the sofa. A short time later I told mum that I felt tired as well and wanted to go to bed. Mum thought we were objecting to her not playing with us. That was when she noticed the canary had stopped singing and had fallen off its perch.
Sudden realisation that the gas burners had blown out and that gas was filling the house caused immediate panic. Burners turned off, windows thrown open and children awaken and taken out into the fresh air.
Neighbours were mystified when mother suddenly went running back into the house. She emerged with the canary in its cage. Within a few minutes it started to sing and everyone cheered.
Mum never complained about Jasper’s noise again.
Lucy Thompson
February 15, 2011
"Ken's got no teeth"
My Grandma Margaret and Grandpa Ken loved each other, they showed this in unusual but endearing ways including, trickery, jibes and ballroom dancing.
The story goes like this, they aren't the most pet friendly family (that gene sure skipped me as I wake up with a mouthful of cat fur each morning) only two pets over the years a dog named Ayeesha Inglebritensen and a budgie named George. My Grandpa was well known for two things his homegrown and made apricot jam and the fact he only missed two days of work in fifty years. When Grandpa had to have his teeth removed he simply stopped by the dentist on his way to work and had his teeth removed then jumped on his bike and off he went.
The teeth removal was much anticipated and around this time George kept my Grandma company in the kitchen. My granny is the robust-sized, kind-hearted, great-cook, fun-loving, squishy-hug-giving variety of Grannies. All day she worked throughout the house dealing with the wake of five children and the mess and food preparation that came with it while she worked she talked to George, "Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth!" she'd say. She encouraged her five children to school George to say, "Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth!"
They resounded to the fact that George would never speak let alone say, "Ken's got no teeth!”. Then one day as Grandpa walked through the back door George bobbed up and down on his perch screeching, "Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth, Ken's got no teeth!"
It wasn’t often Granny outwitted Grandpa. The George and Grandpa story was one that had us all giggling through our tears when Grandpa passed away in late 2010.
Kate O'Leary
February 7, 2011
Pigeon Rescue
I was outside the train station in the city at night, when a pigeon knocked it's head trying to fly through a glass wall. There were a few people around and we all stopped and watched in horror as it stumbled onto the road, but there were too many cars for anyone to rescue it. Somehow it managed to not get hit--narrowly missing several cars--and as soon as there was a gap in the traffic a man ran out onto the road and saved it. The pigeon squirmed in his hand, so he let it go, away from the road. It seemed fine, and myself and the other passers-by breathed a collective sigh of relief. But the pigeon flew near the road again, stumbled in front of traffic again, and was immediately hit. I cried on the train ride home.
Romi Graham
Wally the Red Wattle Bird
“Wally” a Red Wattle Bird came to us via another wildlife carer. Someone had handed him in to her after he flew in and landed on the ladies shoulder while she was hanging out her washing one morning.
Wally was only a juvenile and it was obvious from his feathers coated in sticky goo that someone had been handraising him. He was also very tame and sooky. We are not sure if he escaped and flew away or was released too prematurely, we will never know.
We bathed Wally washing off all the food on his feathers until he was looking like a normal bird again.
At this point in time we doubted he would ever be releasable as he would fly onto our shoulders and talk to us everytime we entered the aviary. This being so we thought that he would be a good companion for other Wattle Birds that needed company whilst undergoing rehabilitation prior to release.
Over time other Wattle Birds shared the aviary with Wally but he always remained semi tame. That was until another Wattle Bird came into our care and it was just the two of them sharing the aviary.
We could see over time that Wally was distancing himself from us and becoming rather protective of his new partner.
As his character was slowly changing and taking on the character of the wild Wattle Bird he was sharing the aviary with we decided to keep the newer Wattle Bird in care for longer than normal to see if Wally would turn completely wild.
Over the next few weeks Wally became wilder and wilder and each time we entered the aviary to feed them he would try to dive bomb and attack us. We would have to enter the aviary carrying a piece of watermelon with us as that was Wally’s passion and he would do anything for a juicy piece of watermelon!!!
He no longer wanted us and would become very flighty if any of us went near the aviary. This was the sign we needed to give him a second chance at being free.
We opened the aviary door one fine morning and out they both flew and settled happily in the big gum tree next to their aviary. We continued to place food on top of the avairy for them which they came back to when they were hungry. We observed them catching insects in the garden as they did in the aviary and they were also licking the blossom on the trees.
Two days later I was in the kitchen when I heard tap.tap. tap on my kitchen window. There was Wally looking very indignant and trying to get my attention. I raced out there thinking he had gotten into trouble but he flew off. I came back inside and he was back again. Tapping away.
Then it suddenly clicked. I cut some watermelon and took it out there. He flew away from me and perched on the fence. I placed the watermelon on the window sill and came back inside. As soon as I had closed the door down he came and grabbed the watermelon then flew off up into some trees on the other side of the creek.
This became a daily ritual. He would never allow me to get near him but he came in for his daily treat. We saw no sign of his partner but suspected she was waiting in the trees for him to bring back her piece as he would fly away then fly back less than a minute later for another piece.
Slowly over the months his visits became less frequent. Then he stopped coming all together. We were upset that something may have happened to him but at least he had by this time been a free bird for six months.
Xmas time was approaching and we hadn’t seen Wally for 3 months. Two days before xmas I heard that familiar tap. tap. tap on the window again. It was Wally waiting for some watermelon. As usual he waited for me to reenter the house before he came in to collect his free feed. We got the binoculars out and we watched him fly up into a gum tree on the creek line, where he began to share the watermelon with another Wattle Bird sitting on a nest.
He had remembered where to come for a free hand out and maybe he was trying to impress his partner with some delicious treats. Wally continued to come in daily for several weeks until one day he came in and sat on the window sill and on the fence behind him was his partner and two baby Wattle Birds.
This was over ten years ago now and each and every xmas time this same scenario would happen. He would come in and collects his watermelon for the time that his partner is on the nest. Then he would bring all the family in to say goodbye and we wouldn’t see him again until the next December. Unfortunately we have not seen Wally for the past couple of years.
Releasing of already imprinted birds can be reversed. Not all birds can be rehabilitated but this story goes to show that given time and patience and the right environment anything is possible. It made us very happy to see him free and at last count Wally was a proud father to 9 baby Wattlebirds.
Sue Westover
A Tribute To The Birds At Work
I work as a postman in the Western suburbs of Adelaide and delivering mail on my motorbike for up to five hours can be quite monotonous and taxing. So I turn to my fine feathered friends for inspiration, entertainment and joy. First there are my favourites, the Willy-Wagtails manouvering in radical tight flight patterns catching tiny insects above the lawns. Sometimes one will see me coming and perch on the letter-box knowing that's where I'm heading, and then when I get close, it will fly to the next one, the record so far is five letterboxes in a row. There are the Magpies that often walk around on the lawns in gangs of four or five busily warbling to each other. I often join in their conservations, whistling to them in similar tones and rhythms. In nesting season there are three birds on my run that swoop me and viscously peck me on the top or back of my helmet. They are magnificent fliers, I have clocked one at 55Km/Hr. Then there are the huge flocks of Sulphur-Crested Cockatoos that roost in the tall Gums, on the banks of the Torrens, with their deafening squawking. They often fight for spots on branches and can hang in all types of awkward positions while munching gumnuts and flowers. I even like the pigeons which some people call the rats of the sky, I think due to their big appetites, varied diets and their tendency to poo everywhere. They often puff themselves up and do cute little dances as part of their courting rituals. Finally, if I'm lucky, I will get a low fly over by a pair of beautiful Rosella Parrots as I approach a tree they have been feeding in. I also observe Spoggies, Minors, a few different species of Honey-Eaters and the odd magestic Pelican floating down the river Torrens fishing.
All the birds, make my day, every day!
Michael Bland
Grandpa and the birds
My Grandpa was a delightful character, five feet tall and, when I knew him, rather rotund. I don't think you would call him an "animal lover", but he certainly loved the animals who became his friends. One of these was Buster, a bantam rooster. Buster loved Grandpa too, and would follow him around everywhere, inside and outside of the house! He even watched television with Grandpa. He was rather bossy as well, and terrorised us kids when we came to visit. One of my favourite memories is of Grandpa relaxed on the lazy-boy on the back lawn with a beer and a cigar, and Buster perched on his large round bare belly! Grandpa was a butcher, and his other bird friends were a couple of local magpies. I remember he would come to the backyard in the early morning with a handful of minced steak from the butcher's shop, and call "maggie, maggie, maggie" in warbling tones. The magpies woudl duly arrive and allow themselves to be hand fed.
Sally Parnis
Sally Parnis
Two gliding pelicans
A couple of days ago I was hanging out the clothes when I saw two pelicans gliding way up high in the clear deep blue sky, making ever shifting circles. For some reason I thought of heaven, with a great surge of happiness.
Sally Parnis
Sally Parnis
February 6, 2011
Pets I have known (1979)
A memory written by my Grandmother, Gwen Kroeger in 1979:
Although we had a number of pets at Loxton, particularly cats, my most memorable pets were early in life.
....there was “Cocky”, a Major Mitchell cockatoo, who used to scream out “Look out there!”, “Look out there!” When we teenagers came home later than expected our parents always knew because she would scream “Look out there!” Cocky used to call “Puss…Puss” to the cat.
We had a magpie which was very protective of mother in her wheelchair. It screeched at anyone who opened the gate at the front of the house, and squawked until mother stopped him.
At Loxton from time to time I have had four to five doves come to the electric light wires near the front of my home and before long to my front veranda to say “Hello” to my cockatoo, parrot, budgie or canaries over the years, and to share their food. At times they have flown to the electric light wires in front of the Church of England across the street. I always loved to see them, especially now that I live on my own.
Introducing Flocked
F L O C K E D
Collecting BIRD STORIES from SA
A project by South Australian artist Sera Waters: for Inside SAM’s place, a residency at the SA Museum from January – August 2011, instigated, facilitated and supported by Craftsouth
The aim of this participatory project is to collect stories, histories and narratives about birds; to explore the cultural associations we attribute to the feathered beings that live alongside us. The SA Museum has an important and staggering collection of bird specimen and data, just as collectively, we the visiting public, have similarly amazing bird knowledge. This project will join these limitless understandings of local birdlife together; adding your collected and collated bird stories and an exhibition of material makings, to the bird displays in SA Museum’s Biodiversity level (from July 1 – August 7, 2011), as well as online - http://flockedsa.blogspot.com.
Your submitted stories, whether they are first-hand encounters, urban myth, strange happenings, old wives tales, fictional imaginings, birds from a favourite book, or a family legend, can contribute to this exploration of birdlife. Each story submitted will be published online and may also be incorporated into the final exhibition of Flocked (in the form of wall text, or a small book). Aspects of the stories may also inspire and be remade into my practice of embroidered and stitched art. Through this collaborative approach to making (between the Museum, research, your experiences collectively and my artworks) I wish to recognise our local colourful birdlife as it swoops and warbles its way through our everyday lives.
I invite people of all backgrounds, age groups and geographical locations to submit bird-related stories. You can submit your story at the SA museum in the nest box, on the blog as a comment, or alternatively you can email to me and I will add it to the blog as a post.
Any further communication can be directed to: sera@serawaters.com.au
Thank you
Sera Waters
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