Now there are SIX

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Grog to the rescue

This afternoon I went to see how the Grogs were faring. Well, to my great surprise there were six! I suppose one must have been hidden in the nest from my counting eyes. Now they are all out. The last three to leave the nest (but not far from it) were sitting together on a eucalyptus branch, basking in the sun. In my three hours of observing them, they did not even exercise their wings but stuck together resting. Then the lowest slid down the branch and so the other two followed. Eventually two of them were situated in the crook of the tree. After a while, the highest one climbed back up and so the other two followed. Safety in company.

Of the remaining three, two were more pleasantly situated in the shade of the sycamore tree, playing with the large leaves, pulling bark, even preening each other. They appeared to be great friends. The last Grog might have been the first one out and flying. Unlike the others, he was flying around, looking at everything, keeping his parents on their toes. He seemed already confident, almost fearless.

As I was about to leave, the three newest fledglings were still huddled next to each other on the eucalyptus branch, each with their right wing hanging down in apparent exhaustion from all that climbing. Their nictitating membrane gave them a faraway look and their beaks dropped open, revealing bright rosy mouths.

May there be six forever and ever. Last year there were six and only three survived.