Why magpies win!
Reflections
“…magpies sing when it’s fair weather and when it’s pelting with rain, their whole bodies abandoned to the work of singing” observes Bishop Cam Venables in this reflection
My study window looks across the verandah to two terraces of plants. On the lower terrace wall I have placed my late mother-in-law’s birdbath, and I refill it every day. There is quite a community that uses this water and from my desk I see something of that.
The most frequent users of the bath for drinking and washing are five noisy miner birds (Manorina melanocephala). These are social creatures and there can be three in the bath at the same time while the other two sit on the rim. There are also a pair of pied butcherbirds (Cracticus nigrogularis) who come, and whenever this happens the miner birds grudgingly give way, retreating to the low branches of a frangipani. The miner birds complain, but who is going to argue with the butcher birds, who are like golden-voiced assassins!
Seasonally, crested pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes) dance around each other in front of the wall and have a bath to cool off or get ready for the next session, while once in a while a pale-headed rosella (Platycercus adscitus) flies in like royalty. The vibrant colours of these rosellas are so startling that everyone seems to hold their breath during a visit.
Two cheeky wallabies (Macropus parryi) regularly drink from the bath early in the morning skimming water from the top of the dirt the birds have washed off. I then clean and fill the bath in a rhythm that seems to work for everyone!
Two weeks before Tropical Cyclone Alfred a pair of magpies (Gymnorhina tibicen) moved in, and this has rattled the miner birds who seem to feel that the frangipani is too close for them to sit in safety when the magpies are washing. Instead, they scold loudly from the safe distance of a house gutter. The magpies appear to be immune to this commentary and strut around like well-dressed building inspectors…but, building inspectors who can sing!
So, there now seems to be some sort of singing competition going on between the butcherbirds and the magpies, and the magpies are winning. I say this because magpies sing when it’s fair weather and when it’s pelting with rain, their whole bodies abandoned to the work of singing.
I’ve been thinking about this magpie propensity for song — no matter the weather — and what that might teach me about life and faith.
What is something from the natural world that speaks to you about life and faith?
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