Many years ago, like a fucking eternity ago, I studied with Tony Robbins over in America, and one of the things I always remember, along with how to walk on fire of course, a skill that hasn’t come in as handy as I had hoped, was a thing he taught about when someone makes a sweeping statement of some sort and in return, and to get clarity you ask “compared to what?”. So, for example, when someone says “that’s too expensive” you reply with “compared to what?” Or when someone says to me “your posts are too long” or “you write too many words and I can’t be bothered reading”, I always remember that lesson and reply with “fuck off”.

Now, where was I? Ah yes, birds. And in particular, why Scarlet Robins are complete assholes. And perhaps one of those sneaky little ‘moral of the story’ lessons I try and weave in there somewhere between all the profanities.

Let me explain.

Last week after the Barossa Half Marathon I went for a stroll up to the Kaiserstuhl Conservation Park. It was about 3 degrees, I had about 5,000 layers on, and it was drizzling, so I didn’t take my camera even though I’d packed it. I did take my little binoculars though, and I walked a short way then watched the fairy wrens because I fucking love fairy wrens. Then a big, juicy, red, male scarlet robin – I don’t get to see those very often so it was quite exciting – realising I didn’t have my camera, came and sat really fucking close to me. Like really close, and just hung out for a bit. And it was an amazing experience. And I was quite pissed off because I didn’t have my camera and I had to remember to not be quite pissed off because it was also quite amazing. And because I didn’t have my camera, I didn’t have to worry about trying to get a shot, which was also quite a bit liberating so I just hung out for a bit, maybe an hour or so, then when I couldn’t feel my face any more wandered back to the car and went home. (If you can’t be fucked reading the rest of it, that was the moral of the story, so you can stop now.)

When I saw the forecast for yesterday was sunshiney, I packed up all my gear, including the hubble telescope (my new super duper long lens) and headed back up there, via Nuriootpa parkrun of course, and spent five fucking hours wandering around looking for that dam scarlet robin again. I saw him ever so briefly fairly early on and thought beauty, piece of piss, I’ll be home by lunch time. (Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.) I got a shit shot, then because I had my camera with me and he knew it, he flipped me the him, and flew off. Because scarlet robins can be real assholes sometimes.

Behind some branches, in the shade, then… gone. Because he’s an asshole.

I sort of hung out in this one spot for quite a few hours, I was out there for about four or five hours all up. And people say “oh you must be so patient to get your pictures” and honestly I’m like the most impatient person of all time so if I don’t get a shot in about the first 45 seconds I’m outta there. But there were so many different birds in this one little area I was quite entertained. So I just watched various little things play out. 

Like when about five different species of birds all had a bath together in a little rockpool. OK, that sounded creepy that I was watching them, but it wasn’t creepy. I don’t think. There was a fairy wren, a few thornbills, a crescent honeyeater (apex bird bather that was not into sharing the bath), an eastern spinebill (who may well have just been being creepy), and a couple of silver eyes – attached to an actual bird called a ‘silvereye’. And although my pictures are all shit, it was a pretty excellent moment watching them pissing about in this little puddle for a while.

Then there was the striated/yellow thornbill (not smart/nerdy enough to know which) that spotted some sort of fibre stuck in the wire fence and decided to have a tug of war with it. Again, not great photos, but had quite the giggle watching that little bird wrestling with what I’m assuming will make for quite a comfy nest and a nice little moment. Either that or he’s off to a fancy dress party going as Sam Elliot.

Then I went for a bit of a wander, and more by miracle than design, the scarlet robin came back to taunt me briefly. He made a fleeting appearance in the shadows for just long enough for me to get another shit shot, while his missus was way more obliging. She is obviously a bit of a poser, (probably a social media influencer), cause she basically posed in a few different spots, before buggering off, probably to go watch the footy which I had planned on doing if I hadn’t been still wandering out in the fucking bush looking for a little red bird.

After that, I figured my shots were good enough to call it a day and walked back to my car. But because I’m stubborn as fuck, made the last minute decision to walk all the way back to my original spot for one last look. You know, just in case little red bird decided to go back there also. Which he didn’t. But I did see a black faced cuckoo shrike, get a half decent shot of the eastern spinebill, and see something called a striated sitella which I’d never seen before. In birding language, that’s what we call a “lifer” – the first time in your life you see a particular bird. In everyone else’s language that’s what we call being a “fucking loser”.

So with a few more birds under my belt, not literally, I wandered back to my car, packed the camera in the back seat, got in the driver’s seat, only to see the asshole little red bird land on the fence post literally 10 feet away. It was just looking at me with a bit of a “What? Leaving already?” smug look on its face, but because I was on the phone to my electrician who must be just about to buy a fucking Rolls Royce courtesy of me, I just sat there and gave that bird the death stare knowing that if I even tried to get my camera, he’d just fly off. But no, he sat there for ages just mocking me. I generally don’t like taking pics of birds on fences cause fences aren’t nature, and he obviously knew that because then, just to really rub it in, he flew onto a small branch, completely out in the open, in the light, with a perfect background, and gave me that mocking look again. At this point I hung up on my sparky, something I’d wanted to do anyway, got my camera out and watched that little fucker fly off before I could get a pic. I wandered around for a bit hoping he might make one more reappearance but he didn’t. Because he’s an asshole.

The end.

PS So for all of you who have said “oh your pics are great”, just know that I took 826 pictures yesterday, and most of them were complete and utter rubbish.

PPS Also, you know how sometimes you go see a Marvel film and it’s the end and then there’s a little bit after the end that lets you know there’s a sequel coming? This is that bit. I’m totally fucking going back there for round three.

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