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A family affair

13/9/2019

5 Comments

 
Story by Miriam Strickland
Photos by Pauline Wilkinson
 
WE HAVE been adopted by a family of magpies. An adult male started visiting in late winter two years ago, and occasionally we’d toss a bit of extra something his way; a few crumbs, a bit of cheese, a worm-sized bit of mince before it disappeared into the meatball mix. So of course he started appearing more often.
We had a few qualms about giving him treats, not wanting to encourage dependence, nor feed him inappropriate items. But he quickly had us charmed, with his glossy plumage, imperious gaze, and cheeky approach … as the weather improved and we might occasionally leave the door ajar he would march inside and have a good look around. We noted also his acute powers of observation: we could walk into the kitchen and see him in the adjacent paddock some 50 metres away, and within seconds he’d be at our door. And in such spectacular manner…sweeping in with his wing tips down, carving a perfect semi-circle to land precisely one arm’s length from our step.
 
Arm’s length, so as to pluck his treat directly, but delicately, from our fingers.
 
We also noticed that he took advantage of the insect population thriving among the potted plants near the doorway, the earwigs that fell out of the channels of the screen door when opened or closed, and the worms and grubs available under the shrubs in the garden. And sometimes he would let us know he was eating lots of insects he’d gathered himself, by regurgitating a pellet of insect shell and assorted fibrous fragments, before accepting our offering. Perhaps not the best table manners but it eased our concern that he may become dependent, even though we didn’t give him food every time he appeared.
 
Far from being resentful at our unreliability he kept coming, and in spring he came accompanied. We heard the unmistakable “eeh eeh eeh” of magpie offspring, looked, and there they were. Three of them. We were delighted. “Our” Mr Magpie felt safe bringing the kids to meet us, which melted our hearts, but we guessed that he also hoped we’d help feed them. With three on board, he and their mother had their job cut out keeping the meals coming. We needed to lift our game.
 
Pauline researched appropriate supplementary feeding for magpies. Wombaroo Insectivore Rearing Mix became a standard item on the shopping list, to be mixed with meat, egg, or just water. It smelled a lot like blood and bone, which it probably is, but apparently provides an acceptable substitute for the minerals normally found in insects, grubs and the other creatures composing the birds’ natural diet.
 
We were glad we did. We still didn’t let the birds imagine they could stop looking for their own food, but we felt better knowing that whenever we offered food it was appropriate for them. Also, we saw that Mr was working so hard he had lost most of the feathers off the back of his neck. We worried he may have got damaged in territorial battles, or been infested with mites, but as the juveniles grew and started finding some of their own food his feathers grew back.
 
And oh, how we enjoyed their visits. The youngsters’ playtime antics were delightful, we engaged in pointless but pleasurable speculation about their behavioural habits, and we laughed out loud at their gawky efforts to perch on unsuitably thin twigs, or the wire fence.
 
One of their games involved grabbing a clump of weed root we’d dropped when gardening, tossing it around in front of a sibling till the sibling grabbed the clump and tossed it somewhere else. Or ran away with it, the first sibling in hot pursuit. Another was “pull the tag off the sapling”, much to Pauline’s annoyance: her mini arboretum risked losing value if we couldn’t identify all the species. And why would they want to do that? Similarly perplexing, one sibling seemed fixated on tugging at tree guards … an avian plastic-free crusader perhaps.
 
Same last spring, two young this time. Wrestling games, turning found objects into toys, warbling practice, and learning the art of extractive foraging. And like any siblings, with different personalities; one bolder, precocious in adopting territorial behaviour, the other more reserved, more content with solitary pursuits.
 
This year, Mrs has turned up too. Mr must have finally convinced her we are no threat and that the tucker is tasty. She’s very shy and skitters away if we so much as stand up from the kitchen table while she’s in the yard, but she’s warming up. As long as we don’t move she’ll come right up to the doorway to pick up a morsel, when at first she would stay partially concealed among the shrubs ten metres away and only dash in to collect when we left the room.
 
In the last couple of weeks both of them have been coming for bits and carrying most of them away to the canopy of a tall tree across the paddock, so we know they’ve hatched this year’s crew.
 
We can’t wait to meet them.
5 Comments
Sunny
14/9/2019 02:09:27 pm

Gorgeous story Miriam, thanks for sharing, how do you tell a male from a female magpie? Magpies have good memories and once you befriend them they will never swoop you.

Reply
Miriam Strickland
23/9/2019 12:21:31 pm

Hello Sunny, I believe you can tell a male from a female by their pure white feathers on their back, the females, feathers on their back are grey. The young also have grey feathers on their back but are easily told by their persistant "eeh eeh" cry!

Reply
Sunny
23/9/2019 01:32:56 pm

Thank you so much Miriam, that is so helpful to know. Just like any birds the brighter in color they are usually male, females are all the dull ones. Goes to show in most species males are always trying to get attention lol.

Felicia Di Stefano
15/9/2019 07:07:00 pm

For hours I've been writing to MPs and Senators urging them to accept NZ's offer of rescuing the PNG refugees from their seventh year of imprisonment.
Your article brought me much joy and was a balm for my tired brain. Thank you Miriam, it is a gift to be open to nature's revelations.

Reply
Philby
19/9/2019 12:18:18 pm

Thank you Miriam your words brought huge smiles to our faces. We have enjoyed a family of magpies for 20 years and never tire of the young ones antics. Never have we been swooped but we are serenaded often. Each breeding season brings utmost joy.

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