A daily territorial battle disrupts the tranquility of our garden, as two ravens and their chick nested high in large gumtree at the bottom of the garden, noisily etablish superiority over their domain. They have also commandeered our roof gutters as their pantry and bread dunking facility. God knows where they get the bread from.
In addition to the ravens, our family of birds that attend the house for food include two magpies from across the road, a gang of kookaburras, our favourite currawong who hangs out in the kitchen when ever the door is left open. Occasionally a passing wattle bird will swoop in hawking the offered meat away in a flash of a wing, before the startled eyes of the other birds busy shambling for the best feeding position. Meanwhile, the blackbirds and parrots go about their business discreetly, the finches and wrens flutter in the bushes, and the majestic cockatoos swoop overhead.
This morning a brief conflict erupted between a lone kookaburra tracking a grand feast of grubs, slaters and severed worms exposed in a freshly dug garden bed, and the attendant ravens perched high. Unfortunately, I was unable to snap the aerial combat as the kookaburra snatched a morsel from the garden and fled the scene pursued by the ravens working in tandem. It was fast and vicious. All survived. This time.
