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todayiamadaisyWell, that was good news to wake up to. And good news closer to home too: nine days of double donuts (no cases, no deaths) and the Ring of Steel (the virus border between Melbourne and the rest of Victoria) is coming down tomorrow.
Even closer to home, there is change in the bird kingdom. Our neighbourhood has a magpie family (by which I mean Australian magpies, not the "one for sorrow, two for joy" European kind). Lovely birds, big personalities. Papa Bird has been here for years, since he was a chick. His territory covers several nearby houses, with his nest in a tree a couple of houses over. He'll take food out of our hands and wander inside if he gets a chance. Currently he and Mama Bird are busy with their new chicks in their tree, leaving last year's baby to her own devices. She spends most of the day in our garden, playing with leaves and poking her beak into things. Occasionally she will run up to the gate of our cat enclosure, hoping for a snack. She is trying so hard to be brave: she'll dance around us and catch food if we throw it, but she can't quite bring herself to take food out of our hands.
Without Papa Bird on patrol, though, a pair of crows has also moved in. They sit on Joan Next Door's roof watching for us to bring food out for Baby. As soon as we leave, they come down to the ground and menace her, stomping around her in a circle, bow-legged, like avian John Waynes, until she scuttles off. What I've taken to doing is putting down three handfuls of oats, several metres apart. So the feeding process goes like this:
Baby eats from Pile 1.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 1.
Baby eats from Pile 2.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 2.
Baby eats from Pile 3.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 3.
Baby realises that the sparrows and starlings have found Pile 1, so she chases them and eats from Pile 1.
And repeat until all the oats have gone. It is hours of entertainment.
Baby says: Please, can't you spare some oats for a fluffy little bird?
Even closer to home, there is change in the bird kingdom. Our neighbourhood has a magpie family (by which I mean Australian magpies, not the "one for sorrow, two for joy" European kind). Lovely birds, big personalities. Papa Bird has been here for years, since he was a chick. His territory covers several nearby houses, with his nest in a tree a couple of houses over. He'll take food out of our hands and wander inside if he gets a chance. Currently he and Mama Bird are busy with their new chicks in their tree, leaving last year's baby to her own devices. She spends most of the day in our garden, playing with leaves and poking her beak into things. Occasionally she will run up to the gate of our cat enclosure, hoping for a snack. She is trying so hard to be brave: she'll dance around us and catch food if we throw it, but she can't quite bring herself to take food out of our hands.
Without Papa Bird on patrol, though, a pair of crows has also moved in. They sit on Joan Next Door's roof watching for us to bring food out for Baby. As soon as we leave, they come down to the ground and menace her, stomping around her in a circle, bow-legged, like avian John Waynes, until she scuttles off. What I've taken to doing is putting down three handfuls of oats, several metres apart. So the feeding process goes like this:
Baby eats from Pile 1.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 1.
Baby eats from Pile 2.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 2.
Baby eats from Pile 3.
The crows chase her away and eat from Pile 3.
Baby realises that the sparrows and starlings have found Pile 1, so she chases them and eats from Pile 1.
And repeat until all the oats have gone. It is hours of entertainment.
Baby says: Please, can't you spare some oats for a fluffy little bird?