Having a small garden I am fortunate enough to wake up most mornings to the sound of birdsong rather than pile-drivers or cement trucks rumbling on their way to feed the latest condominium. Taking advantage of the recent beautiful weather, I spent some time loafing about on our porch observing the wildlife. Sounds like old age is really setting in.
The squirrels put on their usual spectacular performance, leaping about from tree to tree. I still can’t work out how they don’t fall off the flimsy branches. However, it was the feathered friends which stole the show.
I was watching a small bird hopping around the garden until it found what it was looking for -- our dog’s water bowl, close to where I was sitting. After a precautionary inspection, the bird plunged into the bowl and had a wonderful time splashing about as if it was having a day’s outing at the seaside. The dog was not too impressed, however, and a half-hearted “grrrr” was enough for the bird to flee the scene.
I am not an ornithologist, but try to identify some of the warblers in our garden. The other day, when I had visitors, a scarlet-backed flowerpecker (or something like that) hopped past, and everyone was quite puzzled by my excitement. They thought I had gone stark raving mad as I enthused about earlier close encounters with a Yellow-bellied bulbul and a bronzed drongo. At least they sound more exotic than sparrows.
Chirpy chirpy, cheep cheep
In an attempt to remedy my ignorance on matters concerning the feathered community, some years ago I purchased a copy of A Guide to the Birds of Thailand by Boonsong Lekagul and Philip D Round. I soon learned that the bird which makes the most impressive noise is the common koel, known in Thailand as Nohk Kwow because of its distinctive call “kwow kwow-kwow-kwow”.
The book also introduced me to a whole new language. So now I know the pied fantail sings “chee-weet, chee-weet-chew’’, the leaf warbler comes up with “pitchewee-pitchewee-pitchewee” and the red turtle dove warbles “croodle-oo-croo”. They would make good backing groups for those old Tamla Motown songs.
There are some great names in Thailand’s avian kingdom. I can’t wait to see the blue-bearded bee-eater, or the lesser racket-tailed drongo. And hopefully one day my garden will be graced by the splendidly-named striped tit-babbler.
This must not be confused with the grey-headed babbler, which sounds like Crutch after an extended session with the amber liquid.
Feathered pin-up
In Britain a couple of years ago, the robin was voted the national bird, ahead of the barn owl and the blackbird. It prompted a rare thought-provoking headline in the Daily Express which read, “Why We Love Red Breasts”.
The choice of the robin was not a big surprise. It looks cute, sings a lot and is quite friendly. It even appears on more festive season cards than Santa, prompting its nickname, “The Christmas card pin-up”. The robin is also entrenched in British folklore and gets a mention in 14 William Wordsworth poems.
My dad would have approved of the robin as First Bird. When he was gardening, a friendly robin would always come over for a chat, sitting on a fork or spade just a few feet away, hoping he would dig up some juicy earthworms.
The robin is also responsible for one of the longest song titles -- When the Red, Red, Robin, Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin’ Along. It’s a feel-good song (“there’ll be no more sobbin’”) and just about every singer in the old days had a version. We must also not forget Michael Jackson’s Rockin’ Robin, a real cool dude who “rocks in the tree tops all day long”.
Thailand’s finest
I wonder how many readers know the name of Thailand’s national bird. No, it’s not the chicken, although admittedly gy yang (barbecued chicken) is undoubtedly the most popular form of bird in the kingdom. I admit having to look it up and the honour goes to the impressive-sounding Siamese fireback. However, there is little hope of seeing it hopping around in the garden as it’s a rare pheasant. I just hope I have never eaten one. You can never be sure in Thailand.
Broken wings
Closely rivaling the robin in popularity in the UK is the blackbird, regarded with much fondness. The blackbird’s tuneful warbling is particularly appealing and it famously stars on the Beatles song Blackbird, performed by Paul McCartney.
The opening lyrics are quite evocative: “Blackbird singing in the dead of night/ take these broken wings and learn to fly.” Mr McCartney wrote it in 1968 when there was much racial trouble in the US, and he claims it is actually a civil rights song. Says Mr McCartney: “It is not really about a blackbird whose wings are broken.”
Halfwits from Oz
The aforementioned drongo bird is indirectly related to the Australian slang term, “drongo”, meaning an idiot, simpleton, halfwit or somebody who is totally useless. Apparently the term is derived from an unfortunate Australian racehorse in the 1920s called Drongo, which never won a race in 37 starts. The horse was named after the spangled drongo, a familiar bird in Australia.
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