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Current talk about hawking starlings sent me delving into my diaries, and I
located some notes of an enjoyable bushwalk I did with a mate in the Mt Tennant
area during March of 2001. While taking a rest break, we lay on a grassy
slope idly sky-gazing and noticed a flock of birds gliding / hawking on high.
"What kind of birds are they?" Woodsie, my mate, asked.
"Dusky Woodswallows, Woodsie," I said confidently, handing him my binos
without checking first. The non-birding Woodsie studied the 'woodswallows' and
said, "I dunno much about birds, but they're flaming starlings."
"Nuts, Woodsie, they're woodswallows."
"Betcha a coupla beers they're Joe Stalins," the smart-alec Woodsie
replied, shoving the binos under my nose. I glassed the birds and lo-and-behold,
and incredibly, I was wrong, they were Joe Stalins.
"I've never seen starlings act like that before, I was sure they were
woodswallows," I said.
"Don't care, you owe me two schooners," Woodsie announced.
Later that evening, the thirsty Mr Wood swallowed a schooner and said,
"Your shout again, Johnny Bird-expert."
"I hope you choke," I muttered as I shoved another beer under his smirking
bill.
John Layton
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