If you like to sleep in late, then Australia probably isn’t for you, dawn chorus kicks off at around 4am and comparing it to the early morning twitterings back home is like comparing a string quartet with a Kiss concert (albeit without the fireworks)
Foremost amongst the cacophony is the Kookaburra, sitting in the old gum tree, noisiest bastard of the bush is he. His raucous laugh shattering the silence. There’s another bird out here that seems to have learned the first couple of bars of the Arrival of the Queen of Sheeba, but tails off when it realises that it can’t remember what the next bit is.
Small red and green parakeets jockey for position in the sky like a Battle of Britain dogfight, arguing amongst themselves and the harsh call of the Sulphur Cockatoo as it drifts across the sky like a Lancaster Bomber.
We’ve got one bird calling out like a rusty gate, one that sounds like a chicken on helium and another that seems to run out of willpower before it gets too far into it’s call “Wah Wah, Wah, wuh, w…” then occasionally, you have the sci-fi call of the lyre bird adding a surreal note to the proceedings.
This account of a dawn raucous is very interesting Iain. I can’t quite work out if you think it’s a good thing. However please refrain from making a direct comparison to a goodly English dawn chorus until you have actually experienced one. Partially noting it from your bed mid morning on Kirkholt does not qualify.
Your use of metaphor is also interesting if somewhat questionable. Comparing some crass tasteless Australian happening (is there any other kind) to goodly English endeavour is plain wrong.
Also this comment is of interest “…comparing it to the early morning twitterings back home is like comparing a string quartet with a Kiss concert”
Firstly – a string quartet and Kiss – exactly. Secondly, describing the fluting ethereal call of a blackbird or sweeping trill of the willow warbler not to mention the rapturously uplifting song of the diminutive wren as ‘early morning twitterings’ confirms your woeful lack of knowledge (empirical or otherwise) of your own wonderful fauna. Spurned at the first opportunity for the mullet hair cut and lager breath wildlife of the Antipodes – shameful.
Long live the Queen.
Oh and up yours.
By the way. Me n’ Eddie wer just wondering if the photo of the Kookaburra was one of yours?
Oh and up yours!
Pleasant as ever to hear from the founder members of the Crompton Moor Doggers…
The photo was indeed one of mine added a little later when it came for a dip in the pool.
As for the rest of your inane drivellings, your hot air, as always, leaves much to be desired.
All the best and mind how you go
Ahhh Monks, thanks for your reply. Great photo by the way.
Just thought I’d let you know that as I type snow flakes are gently falling past the window. See, that’s what happens at a ‘real’ Christmas in the hill country. Th’owd moors of old England looked reet grand this morning with a dusting of frost. See, that’s what happens at a ‘real’ Christmas in the hill country.
We’ve got more snow forecast for the weekend, so I’ll be heading off out into the majesty of a ‘real’ winter landscape and snuggling up in an old inn by a crackling log fire, sampling some gradely old English ale.
Long live the Queen.
Miss ya loads
Mr Carroll, congratulations on your demotion.
Snow’s all well and good, but a “white christmas” is now a myth thanks to the changing climate you’re more likely to have a day that is damper then the brussel sprouts that are traditionally served.
I wish you luck in your endeavour to freeze you’re balls off on the hills as the temperatures reach 40 degrees over here.
Iain, Iain, Iain 40 degrees? This is coming from the bloke who can’t abide 20 degrees in England and stays indoors. WTF?
Lets all play at being another nationality-tastic.
Merry pseudo-christmas
Got to admit that 40 degrees is too f’in hot, but the heat does seem slightly easier to cope with over here (durig the day at least, the heat has given me a couple of sleepless nights)