Bird Noticing

One of the unexpected effects of the COVID-19 pandemic has been that I'm much more aware of the plants and animals in my neighbourhood. I've literally stopped to smell the roses, having not really consiously noticed previously how many front yards around my place are full of them. I also finally realised how many Australian native plants flower when the seasons are turning colder ("Autumn") rather than becoming warmer ("Spring"). Once I noticed both these local floral facts, I was shocked at how I could possibly not have noticed them previously. It just goes to show how easy it is to disconnect from the lifeforms we are surrounded by in cities.

I also share with Jenny Odell the experience of finding myself becoming a bird noticer.

What amazed me about birdwatching was the way it changed the granularity of my perception, which was pretty “low res” to begin with. At first, I just noticed birdsong more. Of course it had been there all along, but now that I was paying attention to it, I realized that it was almost everywhere, all day, all the time.

I think Odell is significantly further along this path than I am, but I've started to not only notice the presence of birds, but how the local birdlife changes with the seasons. Common Mynas seem to be around all the time (thanks 1860s Melbourne market gardeners 😒) — though more so in the warmer months. Noisy Miners (no relation) also seem to be everywhere, along with both European and native pigeons. Occassionally Ravens appear — usually scavenging an overfull wheelie bin.

One of the things I find particularly interesting, now that I've started noticing more, is the very tight territories some local birds seem to have. I run around Victoria Park a few times a week. This is the original home ground of the Collingwood Football Club, and as you get closer to the ground it's immediately obvious why they chose black and white as their colours and called themselves the Collingwood Magpies. We rarely see magpies at my apartment, although it's only a few hundred metres away. The magpies are there, along with plenty more Noisy Miners, all year round.

And then there are seasonal variations. The Noisy Miners become a lot more active and obvious as the days lengthen and become warmer. When the figs on our tree start to ripen we're first visited by Mynas and Miners, then a little later Currawongs suddenly appear — the effect is somewhat like seeing a Boeing 707 land next to a regional turbo-prop. I like Currawongs because they look both wise and also like they'll fuck you up if you look at them the wrong way. But the Currowongs are long-gone, and the fig has shed its leaves. As we've moved into winter, we have new visitors. The pineapple sage is in full scarlet bloom, and Eastern Spinebills have arrived to drink the nectar. I've never noticed them before, but they're magnificent. In about three months we'll start to see Red Wattlebirds fly past to the neighbour's yard again, and a little bit later the Mynas will move into the yard to feast on caterpillars that in turn feed on the Boston Ivy. We have a nice little ecosystem here, even if many of us are invasive populations.

=> how to do nothing | Common Myna | Noisy Miner | Magpie | Currawong | Eastern Spinebill | Wattlebird