The Lyre Bird

Last evening I sat alone on the boulder near the washing lines, the sun was setting behind me, and in front was our little valley. I could hear the children banging around in the house "cleaning" up their stuff. It was very cool as evening crept in. From the valley before me I recognised the intricate repertoire of the Lyre Bird. It starts with a clear, high pitched, gurgle. His voice then takes on the stark, sharp whipping coo of another bird. It moves, then, into a clicking and vibrating sound. On it continued, filling the valley with is loud and distinct song.

Elsie went out after I had returned to the house, with the camera, in an effort to capture the bird on film. No such luck. She said she got very close, within 10 metres, but something (most probably her) startled it, and off it raced into the bush. So we have no photos of our ellusive Lyre Bird; I wish I could upload a recording of his song to share.

Words don't seem to describe the sensation of sitting quietly hearing this bird's song. And to think, we have our own resident Lyre Bird here on Wallaby Scrub.