You may be aware of my fondness for the Grey Shrike-thrush, its lack of fear, curiosity and clear melodic voice - and I was surprised, recently, when I witnessed a Willie Wagtail going through its musical repertoire and heard the lovely phrases of trills it produced. But even at my most charitable I could easily live without the cacophony of loud and unmusical squawks and screeches of Galahs. While some do perch here in the early evening, I'm never disappointed to see them fly off and know that I won't be subject to their dawn chorus - however pretty they are in the light of a setting sun.
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December 2020
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