The Answer... and Bush Babe to the rescue!

Congratulations Pam (A Novel Woman) for her imaginative entry this week!

...

And the REAL ANSWER is...

A bird's nest. (But you knew that already, clever readers!)

But it's not just any birds nest, its a WILLY WAGTAIL's birds nest.

These are tiny birds from the fantail family, who flit and flutter and flirt their way around the paddocks, alighting on fenceposts and cow's heads to do their little twisty dance before fluttering off again. They never sit still. Well, almost never.

In the past, we have had willy wagtail nests in the laundry of Granite Glen. The laundry is very old, semi-open and seperate from the main house. These delightful little black-and-white birds seem to like it there, as they are relatively unafraid of humans and it provides an ideal shelter from other predators. This particular nest is perched precariously atop the pipe taking the electrical cable from the laundry to the house (or vice versa?).

This is Mrs (or Mr?) Wagtail keeping an eye on me. Let's assume it's the Mum. I'm sure someone out there can identify the male and female of the species, because David Attenborough, I ain't. Anyway, she is a bit concerned and twittering at me, as I have been pointing something black and strange at her nest. She hasn't debunked completely as nothing terrible seems to have happened, but she is nervous.

So she swoops in to check on the contents of her tiny nest. To put it in perspective, she is a bit smaller that the size of a woman's fist, and has eggs the size of thumbnails. As Dash would say: Cute as!

...

We have been checking the comings and goings of our new neighbours for a few days, then yesterday, I noticed something happening...

something that falls into the "not good" department.

The nest was definitely leaning more sharply to the side.

Whatever new weight or movement in there was causing problems in the engineering... Ack! I held TLW aloft to check in the nest, and she reported that there was an egg (or two, she couldn't be sure!).

So I did what any self-respecting pseudo-bushie/ex-city girl/soft touch would do...

I grabbed the sticky tape dispenser.

There. Just call me Mother Nature.

Heh.

OK, It's not the neatest job in the world, but I'm hoping it'll do the trick and hold things in place long enough for the job at hand. And I'm also hoping Mrs Wagtail will overlook the new scaffolding of her nest, and sit atop her precious eggs (however many there are!).

Pray tell, what on earth is going on down there???

Hmmmm... something looks different here...

That strange human has been scratching around here and she is is still looking... there will be trouble if anything is missing here!

Everyone OK in there? One, two... hmmm.

I'm keeping an eye on you, strange human creature!

Thank goodness..

That'll be Ms Nature to you.

Heh.

Counting your wagtails after they hatch...

You might remember that I have been a little distracted lately, with a Willy Wagtail family nesting in our laundry....

What do you mean I've hardly talked about anything else?

Enough from the peanut gallery!

Well, do you recall how I fixed up the falling nest with sticky tape?

And how Mrs Wagtail forgave me for impersonating Mother Nature, and managed to hatch an indeterminate number of baby Wagtails?

Did you think I would leave it there?

That I would wander past her nest multiple times daily (on my way to doing endless loads of laundry and battling clover and supervising septic tank emptying) without feeling the need to do my half-baked National Geographic impression?

Hah!

Then how do you think I managed to get this particular shot?

I'll tell you how...since you asked:

I studiously ignored the laundry and the clover, and I placed a step ladder carefully beside my laundry tubs, gingerly climbed them holding a Nikon in one hand, and hanging onto whatever curious child happened to be close-by with the other. Then, quietly hissing at said child to Be Quiet and Be Still, I patiently waited for Mr or Mrs Wagtail to come back to their cobweb and horsehair nest.

Waiting...

Waiting...

I maybe got a bit bored and decided to try the focus range out on some cobwebs in the rafters between me and the nest ...

Y'know, they are quite groovy... is it Halloween in America yet?

Shhhhh Dash... I think I see a shadow coming...

Ah hah!

Don't move... she's got a little somethin' for her babies. But she can see us and isn't really sure what to do. Fly away or feed her hungry little ones?

She decides to try and shield them from me... good plan. But not for me. How in the name of all that is Holy am I going to find out how many birds are in the nest?

I cannot rest until I know...
Patience don't desert me now!

Dear me, there are two of the little chicks... gosh!

Ummm. Not pretty.
Sorry Mrs Wagtail, I'm sure they are beautiful in a baby wagtail kinda way.

Kinda.

Will you guys HOLD STILL while I focus and do a head count PLEASE?

One more time just to be sure...

Three little baby Wagtails!!

Wow... a cramped foot, a squirming child or two, a nervous Mama Wagtail and about 40 unusable blurry photos... all worth it.

Hey lil' Wagtails...

now your Mama's gone looking for more chick tucker...
I gotta say...

That is a face only a Mother could love...
Not being your Mother, I may have nightmares...

Wee Willy Wagtail - a moment of sudden clarity

You recall how there has been a little tragedy surrounding the Granite Glen Willy Wagtail nest?

Even after I did my very best Mother Nature impersonation to save the nest from certain destruction? After I had carefully documented the three little nude birdies...

Well, here is the sole remaining chick...making an extremely rare appearance just for your viewing pleasure...

So here it is...Ta Da!
What? You can't see it?
Come on... try a little harder!

Work with me people!

What? You wanna see more?

Sheesh...

Come on little fella...

The people want more.

It's a pretty big effort to sit up for the camera when you are only a week old ...

Mmmmph.... that 'nuff?

Geez woman... I can't hold it any longer...
You want more, you gotta get a better angle!
...

*lots of shuffling to move step ladder a bit closer. BB clambers up.*

...

Right woman, you ready?
All focussed?

OK... here goes...

Errrgghhh...

Arrghhh...

Umpphhh!

...

And now for the grand finale..

Eyes are open!

Thank you, thank you!

Autographs later please...

Mother Nature and Me: the bird files

As you saw yesterday, I decided to give Mother Nature (and her little friends Mr and Mrs Willy Wagtail) a bit of a helping hand when that dastardly old Gravity started to get too strong a grip on their dainty cobweb and horse-hair nest.

And while I was perched atop the step ladder, adding my delicately-placed clear sticky tape around the pipe (running from the laundry to the house) and the nest, in an effort to hold the latter atop the former, something happened.

I'm afraid the journo/stickybeak in my rose to the surface...

You may well ask: What's with this angle?

The camera angle I mean, not the angle of the nest, which is much better than it was five minutes before this photo was taken!

The position of the nest, tucked up high under the rafters (cleverly chosen by Mr and Mrs Wagtail to stop other animals stealing tiny eggs) meant I could not get my head easily in a spot to see inside the nest. I held TLW aloft long enough for her to declare:

Dere is dis many birdies in dere!

And holding aloft one, then two, then one finger.

Two or one? asked I (very patiently).

Dis many! said she, holding two, then one, then two fingers up.

So I did what any red-blooded stickybeak/ex-journo would do.

I held my camera in a variety of angles up in the rafters of the laundry to try and get evidence of the exact number of residents in the rescued birds' nest.

And then, in examining one of the blurry shots, I saw something...

Can you see it?

Ah hah!

At least one (blurry) baby bird in the nest!

Ummm. OK. TLW was right.

One or two? Maybe more? Not sure.

I'll get back to you.

Mustering scenes

I'm taking a moment out from my current obsession - the Willy Wagtail family in our laundry. I have new (fuzzy) photos coming up of the amazing wagtail babies (oh, what I would give for a REAL macro lens right about now). But to give us all a break from the small and fuzzy, I bring you something larger and, well, hairy!
...
No, no, not SSB. My sweet, stern, silent, sexy hubby is rather large (at six foot two) and does have a hairy chest (or "shestez" as TLW might say) but it's really the cattle I am referring to. Mustering cattle, to be specific.

Mustering is of the most regular of the tasks here at Granite Glen. And undoubtedly my Dad's very favourite part of life out here. Riding horses (no motorbikes or helicopters here thanks very much!) under the wide blue sky, rounding up bovines from a paddock, and taking them to the nearest set of yards and doing whatever needs to be done. Dipping, inoculating, branding, weaning, drafting, weighing. Lots of maintenance is needed in a cattle breeding operation. Which means lots of mustering. I reckon it's Dad's version of yoga or meditation - an active exercise in mind relaxation which helps to put the world into perspective. And SSB is not much different. I used to love it, but rarely get to these days. I miss it. So with this in mind, I give you:

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A GLIMPSE OF A GRANITE GLEN MUSTER

This shot is taken about 9am - SSB has already gathered his mob of cattle to a dam, and is waiting on my brother and Dad to gather their mobs (from different parts of this paddock) to the agreed meeting point. (In the foreground are Dash, TLW and 'Salina - all wishing they were riding too, instead of just waiting with boring old Mum to have a paddock picnic). The cattle are young females (heifers) who were weaned a few months ago. They are kinda like teenagers - all cheeky and trying out the boundaries. Fun!

Hello there cows! Oh, heifers... sorry. Didn't mean to be offensive! My name is The Little Woman and I shall be rounding you up on Rob Roy really soon! Won't that be fun?

I love cracking the whip so you'd better watch out!

Hello hubby!

SSB is waiting patiently, holding his mob on the water (with his dogs, Cruel, Patch and Jet helping where needed). And there is my brother Pig, riding ahead of his mob down the hill...

SSB doesn't want his heifers to race up the hill (as they want to) to meet Pig's heifers. So he needs to stay in position between them until...

... the second mob get close enough ...

... to ensure they all stay...

..near the dam, and not racing all over the countryside and generally causing havoc...

it's kinda like a physics equation really... the force of the descending mob must outweigh the upward force of the waiting mob... or something like that! Physics was never my forte!

There! All the mob is now milling safely in the corner between the dam and the fence (near camera). Ready to walk through the shallow water to the gateway (to right of shot).

Well done Dad! Well done Pagi. Well done Uncle Pig!

Oh hang on... the 'teenage' boys decide they won't walk through the water to the gate. Blinkin' cheeky, frisky heifers. So they boys take them around the dam. Patience is a virtue much required (sometimes hard to come by) while mustering. Now SSB is staying this side of the water to make sure the little devils don't decide to head around the dam and cross back this way. They can be ornery like that.

So SSB and his steed get to paddle through the dam - and the dogs enjoy a bit of a swim.

Splish, splash, they were takin' a bath!

Pagi oversees the procedure. Through the gate now...

Job well done!!

Smoko time, boys...