I'm sitting on the bench when the old man bird turns up, regular as clockwork...
Down through the hole in the roof he goes... Down the ramp... Stops at the bottom and has a drink...
The pergola bridge, from where he was to where I was sitting was a carpet of rainbow lorikeets...
As the old man had a drink, I said "Hello old man", and stood up...
The rainbow lorikeets, as a carpet, would flock be a better word? ha ha, took off, out into the garden, clearing the bridge...
"That's what I call service", said the old man as he trotted along the bridge, to get something to eat.
I know I said I'd make the effort to see that he was happy, but I hope he doesn't expect me to do that kind of thing every time, ha ha.
Along the pergola bridge at various points there are flat panels that widen the bridge....
Over the years I've found that the possums, either in the later stages of carrying a little one in the pouch, or with a little one tagging along, really appreciate having the room to spread out, so to speak, ha ha.
There's nothing comes quite as close to heart stopping as Mum possum having something to eat and moving sideways, nearly pushing little not quite baby possum off the bridge...
The bridge that started out as a relatively narrow affair has undergone a series of transformations over time, ha ha.
Sitting in one of the panels is a plastic soap dish, small, and fairly shallow, but a good water dish to have on hand if you're on one of the wide panels, eating...
Though he doesn't use it that often, the old man bird obviously thinks it's a good idea...
Only a couple of days ago he walked up to it, stuck his head in it and went Thunk on the bottom of it...
Oops... ha ha, I forgot to refill the water dish... ha ha.
It's all fun, here, ha ha.
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