“The sulphur-crested cockatoo (Cacatua galerita) is a relatively large white cockatoo found in wooded habitats in Australia, New Guinea and some of the islands of Indonesia. They can be locally very numerous, leading to them sometimes being considered pests.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sulphur-crested_cockatoo)

Yes and they are here again.

They are here every morning now and I know that it is my own fault.

I started it.

I decided to put out a little bit of wild bird seed in the mornings for the small parrots and the doves. One day a cockatoo joined the smaller birds. And then it was on. They never looked back. The big birds have booted out the smaller ones now and taken over at feeding time.

It has become a frenzy of white. A screeching broiling mess of parrot flesh.

But that is not all - I have noticed lately that the action starts well before my arrival at the feeding trays. They are tracking me now! Spying on me from the treetops. Screeching out to each other to advise that I am on my way. Pushing me onwards to their breakfasting area.

I head down the hill towards the horse yards with the canine crew. We look up. They are there above us. Glaring at me from the top of a dead tree. Beady black eyes. Watching.

One by one they leave their perches and fly over our heads. Following our direction.

A screech goes out. The bird telegraph has begun.

I arrive at the horse yards and again look up. There are now about 20 big white birds above the yards.

Hitchcock comes to mind. Somewhat unnerving.

Parrot-mind games.

They are quiet now. Waiting. Watching.

I head towards the sheds. The bird feeders are just outside here. I enter and collect a scoop of seed for the chickens. By the time I exit the shed they have arrived from their last tree stop.

A swarm now. All over the trees. Some of the gamer ones are perched lower down. Surveilling. Occasionally jostling with each other. Waiting. Watching.

I return and refill the scoop. Hungry eyes are on me. They know that there is only so much feed to go around. It will be a fight. As soon as I have emptied the scoop into the feed trays they begin.

Birds everywhere.

And every now and then a small black and white dog comes running into the mix - Edwina (Border Collie) heads into the fray. Barking and swirling around. She scares the tyrants away.

The take off fluttering upwards to the trees again but they know she won’t be around for long. They are soon back at the feeding trays.

It is a game. Everyday now.

I smile.