A fan of the common blackbird, Bob Middleton wonders
why we only value what is rare or in short supply.
why we only value what is rare or in short supply.
WE LOST two mature Sydney wattles in our garden this year to the late autumn winds and the piled up dry branches are now surrounded by waist-high grasses where the mower cannot reach.
It has provided a popular habitat for breeding birds this spring. Recently I watched a blue wren feeding its fully fledged young among this tangled jungle but it has been mostly occupied by blackbirds.
Removing their construction site as the bush fire season approaches I have so far uncovered five nests and am sure to discover more as I work my way through. I wonder just how many blackies have been bred on these two acres this season.
We still see heaps of honeyeaters, wrens, warblers – the list goes on. Over the years I have listed 42 different species but I am not a very observant person so am sure there are many more to be recorded. Yet the blackbird outnumbers them all.
As I was out on the deck on a recent evening, sitting in my Milton Sibley rocking chair, sipping a glass of chilled wine, all I could hear was the choir of these exotic, fully imported song birds from the Old Country. No evensong or sermon from the shrike thrush or the carolling of the magpie (that's a morning pleasure) and nothing from the twitterers; they fall silent early.
So I am left wondering why folk despise the blackbird. Is it because it is so common? Must we only value that which is rare or in short supply? I have a friend who calls it the loquat of the bird world. Very undervalued because it is everywhere.
OK, so they scratch off the garden mulch. Bet that does more good than harm and no big deal to rake it back.
They gobble up a few kilos of garden worms. Well, that's nature for you and plenty more where they came from.
Not glamorous enough. Well, I think the male looks splendid in his tiger colours of shiny jet black and bright yellow beak.
All birds are welcomed in our garden, the common and the rare.
It has provided a popular habitat for breeding birds this spring. Recently I watched a blue wren feeding its fully fledged young among this tangled jungle but it has been mostly occupied by blackbirds.
Removing their construction site as the bush fire season approaches I have so far uncovered five nests and am sure to discover more as I work my way through. I wonder just how many blackies have been bred on these two acres this season.
We still see heaps of honeyeaters, wrens, warblers – the list goes on. Over the years I have listed 42 different species but I am not a very observant person so am sure there are many more to be recorded. Yet the blackbird outnumbers them all.
As I was out on the deck on a recent evening, sitting in my Milton Sibley rocking chair, sipping a glass of chilled wine, all I could hear was the choir of these exotic, fully imported song birds from the Old Country. No evensong or sermon from the shrike thrush or the carolling of the magpie (that's a morning pleasure) and nothing from the twitterers; they fall silent early.
So I am left wondering why folk despise the blackbird. Is it because it is so common? Must we only value that which is rare or in short supply? I have a friend who calls it the loquat of the bird world. Very undervalued because it is everywhere.
OK, so they scratch off the garden mulch. Bet that does more good than harm and no big deal to rake it back.
They gobble up a few kilos of garden worms. Well, that's nature for you and plenty more where they came from.
Not glamorous enough. Well, I think the male looks splendid in his tiger colours of shiny jet black and bright yellow beak.
All birds are welcomed in our garden, the common and the rare.
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