The "Green bin" turned up... A standard rubbish bin with a very green lid... ha ha.

Now I have somewhere to put the excess garden waste...

Well, no...now I have the annoying task of raking up leaves and the like, then sifting through them to remove the plastic leaves that the birds have strewn the garden with, and the little pieces of coloured nylon cord that the birds have played with, then strewn the garden with... ha ha.

And all those broken plastic cable ties that at one point held the bridges together, that were chewed through and discarded by the birds because they weren't fun toys, anymore, and are now strewn around the garden... ha ha.

One bin for garden waste, one large bag, or box, or perhaps I'll just bring the bin round, for everything else... ha ha.

And, of course, no raking of leaves can take place without a "supervisor" present...

"Stop, stop!" said the currawong... "I just saw a bug or a something!", before darting enthusiastically into the pile of leaves, ha ha.

Thankfully, the Summer's still got a few months to run so I should be able to find a few warm, sunny days to get out and amuse the birds do some work in the garden, ha ha.

🙂

I'm not going to say my wife swept me off my feet when we first met, but... ha ha.

🙂

🙂

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.

🙂

They be everywhere .... 

They do be everywhere, Tas... ha ha.

🙂

I brought the green bin round into the back garden...

The birds, as they do, regarded it with unabashed suspicion.... ha ha.

Eventually a couple of them came over for a closer look... one of them looked at me and said "So when will you be putting food on that...?",  ha ha.

Ever practical, those birds... ha ha.

"That's a nice flat surface you have there... It would be a shame if someone was to come along and not put food on it...", ha ha.

🙂

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@domino-710 wrote:

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Thank you. 

I sat down with the old man bird and read some of my writings to him...

He likes his story time... He likes picking holes in it... "I didn't do that... Oh wait, it makes me sound interesting... Okay, I did do that!", ha ha.

Developmentally, he's about the level of a six year old child, when it comes to reading, so it's easier for me to read to him...

We'd spend half an hour just getting past the first sentence, otherwise, ha ha.

Those of the birds who can, with some reliability, and accuracy, read the clock on the oven seem to have gone off on their own tangent...

The line between half past two and four o'clock seems to have blurred... In favour of half past two... "But it must be food time!", ha ha.

There was a young currawong in this afternoon... by my reckoning he'd found an interesting place to sleep last night...

He had a snail's silver trail across his back, from shoulder to shoulder...

That's going into my catalogue of strange things that I've seen, ha ha.

Another perfect day... ha ha.

🙂