When the Curlew parents
shriek blue murder , the somnolent
household lurches out of lounge
chairs in front of TV ,
run to the backdoor, switch on the
outside lights. It is obvious that there is a major threat
as the parents , wings outstretched , heads
tilted back , are in
full voice. There on the
clothesline is a large Barking Owl, whose
beak can make short
work of tasty baby Curlews
. As I rush at the killer
with a broom, I narrowly miss treading on the
two young birds stretched out on the verandah . The Barking Owl takes
flight ... and when a torch is flashed about to further frighten it , two possums fall off the
fence . Still screeching ,
the parents run back to the chicks , disappear down the side of the house . The broom has been used to frighten off the Currawongs who swoop
down and upset
our feathered family
. Kookaburras , another threat , are
frequently heard during the day and laughing heartily at sunrise . We are living in dangerous times at this stage in
the life of
the
young birds. With the merciless
Barking Owl on the prowl , there is
little time for slumber at night . From now on , I must live the
life of Count Yorga , sleeping during the day so that I can
fang the owl at night should it return , which it undoubtedly will . A Darwin reader of this blog -who hears odd things at night in his leafy retreat, overgrown by feral Dragon Fruit plants - asks if "your Barking Owl" makes a whoosh whoosh whoosh sound with its wings then eeeek/erk as it captures a frog . This could be further proof that aliens really are abducting Territorians and that he should not venture out to investigate .
