Out and walking
What I missed early yesterday was the fifth Grog. While I was busy observing the four sweet beaks around the nest, number five had flown. He was out. When I discovered him several trees away in a mess of eucalyptus leaves, he was walking precariously across a horizontal branch, occasionally testing his wings.
Grog and Sunshine had him in their vision but seemed more interested in preening each other as they rested together on a tall wooden post. Occasionally, one of the parents would call a soft sounding encouragement before returning to their grooming. The two in the nest that had been out on a limb climbed back into the nest with the other two, perhaps waiting to see what might happen to number five.
After a while, Pater Grog flew over and perched near his son. Number five tried to climb an upward sloping branch to his father but his pearl gray feet (later to turn charcoal) kept slipping down the slick eucalyptus branch. Up he would go again, only to slide back down. Grog did show him a way out by hopping from branch to branch into a clearing where he flew a short distance away. Number five failed to follow.
Next, Mater Grog arrived with a snack. He fluttered his wings awkwardly to beg and Sunshine stuck some food down his throat. This gave him a bit more spunk and he slid into the fork of the tree and began playing with its sticks and gnawing on some of its leaves.
Soon he made a flight attempt and fell, catching some branches on his way down. But he was one tree closer to home. I only hope he made it.
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