I was rudely awakened this morning by a terribly raucous cry!
I shook Willow awake and was trying to describe what I heard when the cry came again. He smiled and informed me that it was the call of a sulphur crested cockatoo. Indeed, I thought, they have much to learn from our thrushes or blackbirds at home with their melodious morning chorals.
How different is the bird life here! I recognise none and am constantly calling upon Willow to name those that we encounter on our daily jaunts!
I am used to sparrows and starlings hopping about Knob End and yet here one can cast aside the curtains and behold a white ibis!
After a hearty breakfast of eggs and ham we ventured to the beach at Sandgate and enjoyed a lunch of fish and fried potatoes.
This evening we were invited to the home of Captain Michael Hunt and he has kindly offered us use of a pony and trap so that we might venture further abroad in the coming days.
After dinner the Captain invited us onto his balcony for drinks and to view the sun set behind the Great Dividing Range.
"How are you finding Queensland, Mr Austen?" the Captain asked.
"How do you say?" I smiled, "noice, defferunt and unusual, Mr Hunt."
"Oh please," he insisted, "Call me Mike. I insist all my friends do."
Suddenly, from somewhere out in the growing darkness there came the most horrendous cry and a squeal escaped my lips and I dropped my glass which shattered upon the wooden floor.
Willow placed a hand upon my arm to calm my nerves and said;
"Its just a Powerful Owl, Wayne."
"Well," I replied "I think I prefer a cockatoo!"
"I guessed as much," said Mike Hunt with a wink.
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