feathers and red blood.
A little blood goes a long
way. Just ask that apparently crestfallen cockatoo who bit
my finger. I was trying to get it untangled from the bird
netting on the walnut tree. I don't think it was there
overnight because I went down to the garden in the dark to
turn off the sprinklers. But it was there about 7.00am
when I did my early morning check (before we went to the
Bush Poets breakfast at Elmslea.)
I walked into the chook
yard to scare it off but
it was already well scared. When I approached, it fell
from its perch with the bird net wrapped around one leg,
hanging upside down. I'd broken my resolution of 'never go down to
the garden without a knife and a bag' and if I was to get
the bird out without too much distress, it needed to be cut free. Or
out of the net.
That worked pretty well except for
the last bit twisted around a few claws on one leg. I let it
grip my shoe and trousers with its beak but when I tried to
get it to stop flapping and keep still, I tried to hold the
back of its neck. Hah!
The net finally came free, and I left it alone to recover,
and went to get a band-aid and the camera. When I came back
I took this j'accuse image and then it started
hauling itself to the top of the fence. Ten minutes
later when I brought Jan down to see the broken branches
and fallen walnuts, the dogs came too. The bird flapped erratically
off to a nearby tree. We picked up the green walnuts and thought
of pickling them.
I've made some images and recorded sound of the Bungendore
Bush Poets session.
Have a look.