Wetlands, in the south-west

It’s been busy with little time to keep up with my blog.  I’ve taken hundreds of pictures that need sorting.  It’s a task to do.

I woke one morning recently in Busselton.  A small town in the south west of Western Australia.  I’ve grown to love visiting here.  The Bay is always beautiful.  One morning I decided to stay in bed instead of scouting around with my camera.  But, with my hotel balcony facing east, it was a fleeting thought.  I drew the curtains thinking I’ll watch the sunrise from the comfort of bed.  (We have been experiencing a lengthy, unseasonal winter, in spring).  The storm clouds were tinted pink.  I had to experience the moment.

I’ve been looking at real estate in this town and thought I’d take the road to my left, just to explore.  Driving for a while along the coast with little traffic, I turned off the music and turned down the windows.  There is something special just listening to the sound of sunrise.  Then, in the quiet, I heard them.  Unmistakable!  There was birdlife.  A lot of birdlife!  Somewhere close.  Somewhere within reach.  I followed the calls.

The wetlands were a delight and surprise.  Under a massive storm cloud, there was a colony of water birds.  Most of which were perched in trees.  They were waking to a new day and wanted every one to know about it.  I usually see ibis across the State, solitary, or in a small group of two or three.   Here, I stopped counting just past 50.

Enthralled I sat quietly in the car and watched the colony interact.  All water birds, they were different.  The ibis, the cormorant, the heron.  Some sharing the same branch.  Each seeing the world from their vantage point.  Sharing from the same pool.  Their tasks were similar.  One cared for the chicks, while the other brought food back to the nest.  Migratory, they have learned the art and science of being magnanimous.

Humans, migrants, do this too.

More later …

Until then,

As always,

a dawn bird