The King Parrots have arrived in all their green and scarlet glory, as raucous and belligerent as ever. This means that some of my orchard’s fruit must be close to ready for ruination, even though small and green.
No time for netting this year, so the Kingies and the bower birds will have their best season yet. This one was very briefly perched in a slender — and fruitless — birch tree.
I am grateful that my resident parrots, the Crimson Rosellas, are equally decorative — and much more musical. This one was neatly framed in a section of my less-than-sparkling bedroom window.
Because it faces into a bank covered by a prostrate grevillea woven amongst hanging rosemary, the rosellas love to squabble amongst the flowers there. If I am quiet and still I can watch at very close quarters.