Early morning Australia

Up by 5a.m. – humid already, but not unbearable.

Lulu and I set off on her walk; she checks each house on the left today, sniffing for new smells … or scraps.

No-one else about apart from the birds. Butcher birds whistle to each other, wood ducks qwuackle softly from up in a dead gum tree; the local kookaburra guardian of the park watches with its hard smile and calculating eye.

Cockatoos shriek at the morning flock of corellas which cackle back derisively; the Pacific Koel repeats its whistle warning of rain to come. Noisy miners live up to their name shrieking their anxieties to all and sundry.

Another wood duck has lost her mate and is quacking mournfully: where are you, I am worried, come back.. They pair for life so separation anxiety is severe.

Four young bush turkey males scavenge the path near the creek, keeping a weather eye for the local boss turkey with his bright yellow necklace – he can’t stand other male turkeys.

The swamp hens (pukekos in New Zealand) have re-built heir nest on the rock in the middle of the creek for the fourteenth time. Their chicks are now grown and forage for themselves. Pacific black ducks flash past to skim land on the creek in the clear water surrounded by lily pads.

A turtle stretches its neck on a tree in the river watched by three water dragons posing in the sun at different spots on the bank.

The Willy Wagtail twitters questions at us as we pass by over the bridge; the wood duck with fishing line on its leg scampers away again – Redlands Wildlife will again try to catch her soon.

The tawny frogmouths huddle in the tree over the road, almost invisible.

The morning crow choir chorus in Bahrs’ corner gum tree disturbs sleepers for miles around.

The blue faced honeyeaters search the last jacaranda flowers for nectar and the white ibis shiftily sidles out our drive.

Home again – a good start to the day.