At 08:00 today 18 King Parrots suddenly assembled in our now winter-bare White Cedar tree. While a peaceful gathering at first it soon degenerated into a flapping, chattering
melee. As I watched it became apparent the males were trying to chase off the juveniles while les femmes just looked on.
The youngsters were reluctant to leave but those higher up the pecking order continued to press home their angst until the juveniles retreated to another tree 15m away.
But apparently that wasn’t far enough. These young curmudgeons needed to be sent home, off the streets, so four vigilantes gave chase and sent them packing.
The adults then reassembled in a quiet, orderly albeit boring group. When I looked out ten minutes later they’d disappeared.
John Layton
Holt.
