We all know how dire my photography skills are. We also know that, if I really sunk some effort into it, I could definitely improve but obviously it’s not that important to me. Except for when I see something really cool and can’t prove it.

Like watching the magpie babies learning to fly. We were alerted to it by the noise of madly thrashing wings and loud parental squawks of encouragement.  There was only one thing for it: to lean on a fencepost and watch as the crazy flapping, chaotic dropping and scrabbling, and frightened cheeps and peeps gave way to swooping and gliding, and economic wing beats. But no photos.

Or the paradise shelducks visiting the back paddock this morning. They’re such joyous birds who live their life out very-loud. And they’re so handsome. Shirley and I crept up to the back fence and watched as they searched out and shared soil treats, commenting loudly on the tastiness of each morsal. Photos?

Kind of.

But this afternoon as I hacked the box hedge into shape, a piwakawaka (NZ fantail) kept me company, snacking on the bugs my efforts were disturbing and telling me all kinds of stories.

And I got photographic evidence!