Lessons from birds and the stories we tell

I have always had a bit of thing for birds. All birds, even sparrows, especially sparrows. The overlooked ones of the bird world. I have colourful china birds dotted throughout the house if anyone is in any doubt that I have a thing for birds.

We have two well used bird baths in the garden. I love watching birds splashing about. They don’t seem to mind the cold and its a welcome relief in the heat. Our dogs don’t bother them at all. We are often visited by a large variety of birds. Sulphur crested cockatoos, bright red rosellas and gorgeous pink galah’s. Occasional corellas with their long beaks and strange eyes, startling green and orange king parrots with lime green lightning streaks on their wings. We are also visited by currawongs, magpies, wood doves and of course good old Indian mynas. Wattle birds frequent the hedges and make their presence known during the flowering season. It’s a joy to see them all. Here’s a few photos I took at home.

Even though I’ve always loved birds I wouldn’t say I was a proper bird watcher. Birds fascinate me and I love watching them but I have minimal orthnithological knowledge. When I was very young I used to feed the Robins in winter. I had a fear of them starving to death and ending up lying frozen in the snow like the ‘Ugly Duckling.’

I was an impressionable child. The stories I read were vivid to me as they came to life in my mind. I probably have permanent scars from reading ‘The Ugly Duckling.’ It left me n feeling personally responsible for birds in winter. Especially those that didn’t follow the migration call. Winters were harsh where we lived.

We lived in Bangor, in North Wales, at the foothills of Eryri [Snowdonia.] It sounds very romantic until it snows. Bangor is not technically in Eryri. It sits just north of the national park along the Menai Strait in Gwynedd. Close enough. Bangor is half an hour from Yr Wyddfa [Mt Snowdon.] Not quite as ‘foothill’ as Llanberis but the whole area is mountainous and when the winter settles in you know about it.

When the snow was deep and our cat, Tiddles had to go outside, I loved watching her navigate the snow. She would gingerly make her way through the snow covered garden. Her paws sinking in completely she would shake each one before dipping it in again.

After breakfast I would rug up to go outside. Mum would dress me in my itchy tweed coat with the leather woven buttons. Mittens on each hand, and a warm wooly hat. I would brave the snow armed with my toast crumbs. First I would clear a small patch and place the crumbs in a pile. The robin would fly to the nearby trees, as soon as the cat had scarpered back inside, like its tail was on fire.

Another story that broke my heart was Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Happy Prince.’ Once again a little bird freezing in the snow. I sobbed when I read it as a child and even now it brings me to tears when I read it. What a brave little bird.
Then there was Hans Christian Anderson’s story of the Wild Swans. Another story that got to me when I was little. It’s about eleven brothers and their sister. Some versions have six brothers. The brothers are cursed to be swans. Their sister has to remain silent until she has made nettle shirts for the brothers to break the curse. If she spoke they would all die. She manages to make them except for one sleeve. One of her brothers ends up going through life with one swan’s wing. The thought of her knitting with stinging nettles and the one brother left with a swan’s wing broke my heart.

Honestly it’s no wonder I had nightmares when I was little. Some of those stories were terrifying. My heart was tender and often broken over stories I read. Now when I read children’s stories they seem carefully written not to upset anyone. Have you noticed?

I was a sensitive child who spent a lot of time worrying about animals and birds probably a result of the stories combined with a vivid imagination. My older siblings went to school every day and I would be in my own little imaginary world. Mum would usually be cooking something on the stove. Welsh cakes, marmalade or apple and blackberry tart sprinkled with sugar.

I longed for the day when I could go to this mysterious place called school. When my turn came to go to this magical place, it was not what I had imagined at all. It was a frightening place with too many people and far too much noise. Even the school bell terrified me. The bus trip there with my siblings was harrowing. I think my mother imagined my brother and sister would make sure I was ok. Neither of them wanted anything to do with me. I was on my own.
Every morning I had a sick feeling in my stomach that never left. School lunches were a nightmare of bland, overcooked, smelly vegetables covered in white sauce. The noise of the canteen was raucous and everyone else seemed to know what to do. I felt like the ugly duckling most of the time. Which is probably why that story broke my heart.

When I came to Australia I joined ‘The Gould League of Bird Lovers,’ a bird watching club for children. I didn’t take it too seriously, not like a proper bird watcher. I didn’t have the discipline to keep records or anything official for very long. I liked the badges.
One of the artists I follow on Instagram, Bridget Farmer, makes badges, among other things. One of them says: ‘I’m a bird noticer,’ which I love. I am a bird noticer rather than a bird watcher. I have bought many of her art products including a few badges. If you would like to look her up, she is Bridgetfarmerprintmaker on Instagram.

According to CSIRO Australia:‘Australia is home to nearly one hundred native species of mistletoe. Far from being introduced weeds, these ancient, semi-parasitic plants are keystone species. They provide vital nectar, fruit and shelter for native wildlife, enriching nutrient-poor soils and boosting local biodiversity.’

In an article Jane Canaway says: ”They (Mistletoe) flower and fruit when most other stuff doesn’t, so they are often the only source of tucker for insects and animals during hard times. Mistletoes are a bird beacon but they also provide for sugar gliders, koalas, possums and butterflies.” An article by Jane Canaway on Australian Mistletoe

Until Bridget pointed it out I never knew mistletoe existed in Australia. Now I see it everywhere I look.

We can’t talk about birds without mentioning eagles. We have two eagles that live in our area and we often see them catching the thermals high above us at our horse paddock. They are majestic and awe inspiring and I love to see them.

The other day, at the horse paddock, we saw a huge flock of black cockatoos. We often see a few pairs flying around or eating the pine nuts at the bottom of our garden. Quite often just before it rains you hear their plaintive cry as they fly over. They have a distinctive call. This day there were at least thirty, perhaps forty, birds flying over us and landing in the nearby messmate gum trees. There were too many birds for me to count. The noise was incredible.

It struck me that the flock of black cockatoos might be refugees from the Strathbogie mountains driven out by the bushfires last summer. Perhaps their homes were destroyed and they were looking for new homes.

There were burnt out areas along the road, at regular intervals, where houses had once stood. It was sad to think that the people will either have to sell up or rebuild their lives.
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The black cockatoos, and other birds and animals need tree hollows to live in. It takes about one to two hundred years for trees to be old enough to have hollows. It begins with wind damage or simply old age. Circumstances cause the decaying of their inner heartwood. Sometimes a tree will sacrifice a limb during hard times. This leaves a hollow and then the birds can help the process by using their sharp beaks and claws.

I wondered where all those birds would find their new home given our propensity to cut down trees. My heart went out to that huge flock of black cockatoos.

Recently I heard a person talking about their mission to record all the birds of Ireland. Seán Ronayne set out to record them and he’s well on his way. By December ’25 he had only three more to record. When I came across his Instagram account he had already recorded ten thousand birds.

In the interview he talked about a bird called the common whitethroat. He said that it’s a small migratory bird. In the summer it breeds in Ireland and then in Autumn it migrates down through the Mediterranean and typically winters in Senegal. Seán says they are astounding mimics. They soak up everything. When they come home they are singing the story of where they have been. Like stamps on a passport. They are telling a story with their songs. I encourage you to look him up. He is ‘Irishwildlifesounds’ on Instagram.

We hear birds chirping to one another and think, isn’t that sweet, while we are oblivious to the stories they are telling. I love the idea that birds are singing their travel journals to anyone who will listen. Apparently birds can see the magnetic lines of the earth. It’s called ‘magnetoreception’ which sounds a bit science fiction to me. I can’t even imagine how anyone figured that out. It has to be a guess right? The uncanny way birds find their way over vast distances and back again to their nests year after year is amazing. Birds were using quantum physics before we knew it existed.

We assume they see the world like we do. For all we know birds may see the wind.

An amazing thing about birdsong is that it speaks to an instinctive part of us. Everyone is probably familiar with the fight-or-flight instinct. The primal instinct in our DNA that keeps us safe. Did you know that listening to birdsong relaxes the flight/fight instinct? Birds only sing when they are safe and our instincts recognise this as an all clear signal. Hearing the relaxing sound of gentle birdsong activates the parasympathetic nervous system and we relax. Amazing isn’t it?

Not every bird. Where we live we are frequently visited by the most raucous cockatoos on the planet and I can tell you it is not a relaxing sound at all. They can be deafening at times and sometimes I wish they would migrate.

I hope you have an opportunity to sit quietly and listen to the birds in your garden or at a nearby park. Perhaps you are a bird noticer too. Let me know if you feel the relaxation seeping in. I’d love to know