observing birds

The thornbills were busy playing with their willy-wagtail friends in the paddock when we called out to them.  Smaller than my thumb, these birds left the safety of the scrub and sat on the fence, singing for us and posing for the camera.  They remembered us even though another year had passed from our previous visit.

What is a sweet, cute looking babbler doing, all by herself or himself? 

Who is that calling so loudly, interrupting my reverie?  It's not a sound I hear often and never before so loud.  Yes, I'm definitely being called. 

But outside there's no one to be seen.   Hey, wait a sec, who's that calling me from behind the leaves in the bottlebrush?  Which is really strange because in all the years we've had this plant, no bird has ever visited it before, even though it is meant to be a bird-attractor. 

Open the doors to understanding the remakable love and care that exists among wild birds and their intricate social lives.