> On Fri, 5 Oct 2001, Kiran Krishna wrote:
> White-cheeked is a little unusual for Sydney Uni - are you new to
> bird watching and confusing it with the New Holland Honeyeaters which
> are common around Sydney Uni (my apologies if this is not the case).
> Restless Flycatcher in Victoria Park is also an unusual sighting
> I'd think. I can't remember ever hearing one around Sydney Uni.
> Although at this time of year occasional migrating forest birds
> can be seen in the inner city.
I am indeed new to birdwatching in Sydney (I used to birdwatch in
India), but I am fairly sure the white in the 'cheek' was much more
prominent than with the New Holland. I could be wrong... I haven't seen
any honeyeaters here before, and I've been at the uni for 3 years. Hence
my surprise. I mentioned it at the Birding NSW meeting, and the president
said something about remembering seeing some. The Restless Flycatcher I am
almost certain about. I had a very good open-air sighting, and as I said,
with a willy wagtail beside for comparison. And by luck (I was going to
show someone a picture of a Pilotbird today) and therefore had my Slaters
in my bag. Another recent sighting that I'm uncertain about (I was with
Margaret, and she didn't get to see the bird) was a Scarlet Robin at
Mulgrave, flying up into a tree inside the first house on the left as you
get out and walk towards the Water treatment facility. I would be happy
if anyone else can confirm this.
The ghost of Ninon would be sorry now
To laugh at them, were she to see them here,
So brave and so alert for learning how
To fence with reason for another year.
Age offers a far comelier diadem
Than theirs; but anguish has no eye for grace,
When Time's malicious mercy cautions them
To think a while of number and of space.
The burning hope, the worn expectancy,
The martyred humour, and the maimed allure,
Cry out for time to end his levity,
And age to soften its investiture;
But they, though others fade, and are still fair
Defy their fairness and are unsubdued;
Although they suffer, they may not forswear
The patient ardor of the unpursued.
Poor flesh, to fight the calendar so long;
Poor vanity, so quaint and yet so brave;
Poor folly, so decieved and yet so strong,
So far from Ninon and so near the grave.
- Veteran Sirens, Edwin Arlington Robinson
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