Why the heck am I starting another blog? I ask myself. Surely one is enough. Well, I got bored with it. All those poems sitting there in splendid isolation. As another Poem A Day challenge looms, I felt like starting afresh.
Well, here we go, my first technical failure. The picture was meant to follow the last sentence. Maybe, however, there is some poetic justice in it. The Silver Princess blossoms do burst forth.
When they do, the birds come for nectar snacks: golden honeyeaters, eastern rosellas, crimson rosellas, wattle birds. The immigrants - blackbirds, pigeons and sparrows - don't stick their beaks into the sweet blossoms, but use the tall spindly sparsely-leafed trees as lookout posts.
At this time in October, the young are being taught how to live. Adult honeyeaters bring their kids into the fernery outside my office and teach them how to dash, balance and snap up flies and other insects. Even more amusing are the sparrows, which pounce upon the tall seed grasses and swing down, snatching at seed as they descend.
All birds are welcome in my specially-wild garden. I watch them as I write. We are all exploring, swooping from one attractive viewpoint to another.