Hah!

As a fitting end to National Blogging about Parrots Month*, I finally got a photo of a gang-gang cockatoo to add to the collection. Unfortunately the light was pretty crappy, so the pictures aren't very spectacular, but still it makes me happy, in an "I went up against the parrots and I won" type way.






There will now be a break from parrot blogging until I have recovered. (I'm guessing this will take at least, oh, five minutes.)
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* A nation-wide event with participation of approximately... one person.

Asking for trouble

Look at what you're missing out on!

In honour of National Blogging about Parrots Month (NaBloPoMo), I decided to pull out a book on local birds that my mother-in-law gave me a couple of months ago. And hey, look at all the pretty parrots that can supposedly be found in my area:


So what I want to know is why I have only ever seen six of these twelve different types. And why you, my beloved readers, only got to see photos of four (or five, depending on whether you count yesterday's link back to old gang-gang pictures) during this NaBloPoMo virtual parrot festival.

Don't you feel like you deserve your money back?

The book claims that four of the six types I haven't yet got photos of can be found in urban gardens around the city, but the black cockatoos and the little lorikeets prefer to hang out in the bush. So that's their excuse.

As for the four missing urban parrots, three are "very rare", so I guess that explains them. But what about the red-rumped parrot? (That's the pair on the bottom right in the picture above). They are supposedly urban, and classed as "common", which the book defines as "expect to see them on two to five visits out of ten." (Visits to what, I don't know: my back garden?)

I feel cheated. Where's my red-rumped parrot?

Foiled

On the way home today I thought I heard the creaking of a gang-gang cockatoo. So I stopped my bicycle and wheeled it to one side of the bike path so I could try and spot it. But a whole lot of people were walking towards me, giving me an Interrogative Look*, and I couldn't bring myself to give the real explanation. I mean, what was I supposed to say?

"Didn't you hear it? There's a common local bird up that tree and I absolutely MUST get its picture!"

"Look! A gang-gang! They're so cute! I'm just going to stand here and watch it for a while."

"My name is StyleyGeek. I have a blog. And a parrot addiction."

So instead I pretended to be inspecting my tires and bicycle chain in the hope the passers-by would do their passer-by thing and hurry up and pass me (by). Unfortunately, Australians suffer from terminal needing-to-be-helpful syndrome, so rather than being a convincing way of not looking like a maniac while I waited, my feigned bicycle problem was like honey to the proverbial thing that likes sweet and sticky things.**

Five people descended on me.

"Got a problem with your bike?"
"Is it a puncture?"
"Can I help you fix it?"
"Are you okay?"
"Do you need a lift home?"

I only managed to escape by pretending to be a dumb blonde*** and acting surprised that my tire wasn't flat.

"It's not? How silly of me! I could have sworn I felt it burst! I'll be off now, then."

And now I'm left with two questions:

Why would I rather be thought of as a bird-brain than a bird-lover?
and
Are public denial of an addiction and surreptitious behaviour signs of a serious problem?

Bring on the end of November.

(Oh yeah, and that link to the gang-gang photos from August? It totally counts as today's parrot picture.)

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* Like this :?
**Like me.
*** Yes, pretending.

One parrot to rule them all

Places to go, people to see

Still eating my foot

(Yeah, I cheated. This is another picture from yesterday. But I'm not quite so far gone that I'll spend Friday night taking photos of parrots. What? Last week? That wasn't me. Honest, guv.)

Flock o'toos

To make us all feel better after the sad story.

Having only seen one or two a day since... hmm... the start of November,* I was relieved to come across a bigger group again at last. I was fast coming to the conclusion that they must all be disguising themselves as ducks.

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* You can't tell me that's a coincidence.

Altogether now

The problem with parrots is that they like to do all their frolicking at sunset. Just when the light is getting awkward for taking good photos.

So instead of quality, I thought I'd go for quantity in today's parrot post. The three pictures that follow (and the 40-something others I'm not going to inflict on you) were all taken within 10 metres of each other on my way home today.

"Don't look now, but that guy? The one on your right? He doesn't have any friends."



"Can't talk. Eating... my... foot."


"Hey, you ever thought about trying out white-water rafting?"

Any picture is improved by parrots

Feeding time

This unexpectedly turned out as a silhouette due to a combination of weird lighting and that strangely pink wall. But I think I kind of like it that way. Especially since it lets us all pretend that that gross regurgitation thing mother birds do is not really happening.

It would have been pretty cool to have a clear photo of the cute baby rosella, though.

More graceful than yesterday's

Crash landing

They like me, they really like me!

Because all I got pictures of today were yet more rosellas, I thought I'd cheat and post an older picture instead. This was taken about a year and a half ago at a walk-in aviary just out of town. I've never known such popularity...

The Parrot in the Willows

I know, I know, another bloody rosella. But it's so cute! And fluffy! And was totally posing for the camera.

How can you not like cute and fluffy?

Not happy, John

Isn't this the most pissed-off-looking bird you have ever seen?


(Like I said, it's an honorary parrot.)

Contemplating the darkness

(I know, not a parrot. But fairy wrens are so cute they deserve to be honorary parrots.)

Needs a bigger tree

This parrot was very obliging and I didn't even need to leave my blogging position at the dining room table to take the picture. That is, I didn't need to, but I did end up walking across to the open balcony door to get a better angle. And then Geekman took a few shots, and I think this might be one of his.

But I could have taken it from where I was sitting, and that's what counts. In the great "Can you take pictures of parrots from your chair inside the house? Well I can, so hah!" competition that is Life. Oh yeah.*

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* Disclaimer: this was not written while drunk and I have no idea why it reads as though it was.** But it does, doesn't it? Weirdness. Perhaps I was drunk on the great CYTPPCIHWICSH competition that is Life.

** I'm practising for when I have to say that about my dissertation. Do you think the "drunk on the CYTPPCIHWICSH competition that is Life" excuse will fly? (Fly, hee hee, geddit?)

Things I have learned so far this month*

1. Writing makes me happy.
2. Taking photos of parrots makes me happy too.
3. I like to be happy.
4. It is hard to choose just one picture when you are taking 45 photos of parrots a day.
5. I can write 2000 words in a morning and still have time to do other work.
6. If I have written 2000 words in a morning, I feel justified slacking off and not doing other work.
7. Part of the reason I have been paralysed with procrastination the last few months is that, when I tried to write something, it reminded me of how much more research I needed to do, and when I tried to do extra research, I felt guilty for not writing.
8. Writing makes me feel like I am making progress. Research allows me to actually make progress.
9. Writing can be fast. Research is slow.
10. How come it took me three months to realise that the solution to (7), (8) and (9) was to do both writing and research every day?
11. Writing takes less time than you expect. Good writing takes more time than you expect.
12. See (1) and (2). I can't emphasise these points enough.
13. I think I could spend my entire life writing and taking photos of parrots. Does someone want to give me a job as a wildlife journalist?

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* Courtesy of InaDWriMo and NaBloPoMo.

My parrots will go on and on and on...

... until nobody thinks it's funny anymore.