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Early this morning we arrived at Weston Park for a picnic breakfast
and some birding. The sleepy, post-Christmas brats got out of the car and
delved into their packs searching for whatever they'd forgotten this time.
I looked towards a eucalyptus tree 40m away and saw what appeared to
be three or four small parrots descend into the crown. Brought my binoculars to
bear and, although the birds were partly obscured by foliage, the jizz indicated
small lorikeets.
"We may have some lorikeets over yonder," I said to an unenthusiastic
audience.
"They're probably red-rumps," Elder Brat muttered, without looking
up.
"Or rosellas that lost their tails," Junior said, perusing a graphic novel
(they used to be called comic books), she'd recovered from the bric-a-brat in
her pack.
I approached the tree, stopped 15m away and saw movement in the foliage,
focussed the binos and was satisfied I'd found small lorikeets. Angled around
until the overcast sun was in a better position relevant to the birds and
could discern the red frons and ear coverts on a couple which satisfied me
they were Musk Lorikeets rather than Little Lorikeets. Don't know
what species of eucalyptus tree it was and, if it was in flower, the blossoms
were very inconspicuous, nonetheless the l'keets appeared to be gleaning
something. After Five minutes they flew north across the lake towards
Yarramundi Reach.
John Layton.
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