Aussie Birds A Pain In The Ear

By Mike Hytner on October 22, 2013 in Other

Photo: Cindy Lowe

I am not, of course, talking about the lovely women of this country and their nasal tones (though in some cases the parallels are uncanny), but the real birds of Australia, the ones with wings and feathers. And obnoxious voice boxes.

The biggest culprit – and the inspiration for these musings – is a yet to be identified creature that as of two weeks ago decided to perch in the tree just outside my bedroom window and start squawking at 3:30 every morning. On its own. In the dark. For at least two hours. And with a gravelly emission that at best sounds like a 40-a-day cigarette smoker and at worst a strangulated, tone-deaf chicken, which may or may not also suck back two score cancer sticks a day.

I assume it’s talking to itself because, despite an insistence on continuing its horribly invasive and repetitive tweeting, nothing answers back. Except me, that is, although what comes flying out of my mouth is probably no less obnoxious than that flowing from the beak of the incessantly squawking bird. In my defence, though, the frustration of being forced to listen to what appears to be an exercise in total futility is too much to bear. Murderous thoughts in the early hours of the morning cannot be healthy, but that is what I am having to deal with at the moment (Disclaimer: no bird will be harmed – these dark thoughts will remain just that).

And this particular rambunctious bird is not alone. I remember being taken aback when I saw my first white cockatoo soaring gracefully through the air, its huge wings making flight look effortless and its beautiful golden mohawk glistening in the sunshine. Then it emitted a noise that would not have been out of place emanating from the jaws of a fantastical monster in the darkest depths of Mordor. Talk about ruining a moment.

Such incongruity can be found elsewhere too: those pretty little multi-coloured lorikeets are capable of making a terrible tinnitus-inducing din, while a different but no less pleasant-looking feathered thing sounds like a klaxon horn. Another variety has apparently learnt how to bark.

On the upside, at least these pleasant looking species have the decency to make their racket during a normal person’s waking hours, unlike my ‘friendly neighbour’ and another undeniably cool yet nonetheless maddening flying creature, the fruit bat, whose squeals in the dead of night do nothing to mend its kind’s reputation.

I’ll admit, there are exceptions – those that manage to look nice yet also maintain some kind of decorum – but they seem to be few and far between. Or maybe they’re just not as noticeable as their brasher cousins. Aussie birds – you can’t live with ’em, you certainly can live without ’em.