We have a lot of windows at the front of the Cafe, and they are usually kept clean and sparkling. While this is pleasing to the eye, it's havoc for some of our wild birds, as they fly straight into the glass, knock themselves out and fall to the ground. Unconscious. Oftentimes, we scurry to find boxes for the concussed birds to lie in while they recover.
Last week, a brightly colourful Rosella collided with the glass and while he was recovering, his mate fluttered nervously around him. Eventually, they flew off together. Happily Ever After.
Standing at the sink and gazing sleepily out of the window, a movement, just below the windowsill caught my eye. A Grey Shrike-Thrush was fluttering and then lurching his tiny body at the two hot water tanks, servicing the kitchen and bathroom.
The Thrush would flutter, lurch and then land on top of the tanks, croon his head and peck....
"Would you like a cup of tea, Babe?" the Machinist asked as he clicked on the kettle. "What are you looking at?"
I pointed to the curious activity of our avian friend. "He's picking flies and bugs out of the cobwebs", the Machinist continued. "I watched him just the other day. See?"
Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? Mathew 6:26 KJV