Australian King-Parrot

I often wonder about the purpose of this blog. It never fully details my whole experience at a certain place, only snippets of it as I mention the flying creatures. As a birdwatching diary, the pictures are of poor quality and small, the descriptions meagre, and the ornithological identifications amateurish at best. However, they are mine, and though nothing to rave about, are my birding experiences. They are my reminders of the joy derived from simple child-like discoveries of nature.

Maffra was a one-week Cattle Week spent with 3 other coursemates in the back rooms of the Maffra Rural Veterinary Clinic eating microwavable dinners, watching the Australian Open, Masterchef and other tv dramas, doing laundry and shaking English Bulldog puppies after nightfall; battling mud, cows and cow poo in the day - pregnancy testing, delivering calves, milking cows and looking at the bread-and-butter of traumatic reticuloperitonitic cadavers. In the midst of all that chaos, I found a sliver of lazy afternoon in the clinic backyard during one lunchtime - underneath a tree laden with fruit and King Parrots.

A King with his Queen

Sploshes of red through his chest, he might be a Prince

The King and his Court