Yes, I know Canberra is officially in summer, being in the temperate latitudes of the southern hemisphere. However, this post was overtaken by last month’s World Parks Congress, and I didn’t want to wait till next spring to use it.
With spring comes that ‘lovin’ feelin’: romance is in the air – and also on the nest! As well as being Australia’s grey kangaroo and brown snake capital, Canberra has a healthy population of that melodious musician of the Australian bush, the irrepressible magpie. (NB: Don’t confuse Magpie Oz with maggies from other parts of the world – they are different species, though in some cases, superficially similar.) The black and white magpie Oz is a large bird, about 40 cm (16″) in length, with a long, strong, sharp beak.
While the cackle of the kookaburra is the most distinctive sound of the Australian bush, a magpie’s song is the most musical. To see – and hear – a flock of these maestros with their heads back, in full voice, singing their little hearts out, is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face and a flutter to your heart.
But there is another side to these loveable bush legends; they are ferociously protective parents. Walk, cycle or jog near their bulky stick nests in spring and your safety cannot be guaranteed. In Canberra, known danger areas are signposted with ‘Beware swooping bird’ signs; walkers wear hats and carry sticks; cyclists tie stiff electrical cables to their helmets, looking like colourful echidnas (or hedgehogs) as they swish past.
Magpies have attacked me several times, including twice on my trip. The first was on the Manly Scenic Walkway, just north of Sydney; here’s what happened.
‘The first stage to North Harbour Reserve was along a concrete path, adjacent to a pleasant shoreline that includes Fairlight Beach. The path was hard on my knees; I prefer the ‘give’ of a bush track. I was thinking about this when the attack happened. From behind came a sudden ‘whoosh’, flapping wings, and clacking bill. I knew what it was. I didn’t turn for fear of getting my face scratched; instead I swung out with my free arm and dropped to the ground. As I was getting my cap out, it swooped again, then retired to a low branch, giving me a menacing look.
Magpies – the bane of school kids, walkers and bike riders during the nesting season. I put my cap on backwards, hoping the badge looked slightly scary, and moved off, the victor farewelling me with a mocking warble.’
The second attack occurred at Mallacoota in Victoria, when I was cycling.
‘My walking poles – a recent purchase – were jammed into my backpack, sharp ends protruding as I cycled into town to buy lunch. I hadn’t gone far when something ‘whooshed’ past my head, giving me a helluva fright. It was a magpie, the second attack of my trip. It came from behind, and would have clobbered my helmet, had not my poles deflected its flight path.’
Magpies occur across the country. In the south-west of Western Australian, at Two Peoples Bay Nature Reserve, I came across the following sign.
‘I came to a well-kept picnic area, set among shady trees near the bay. A warning, Bird Risk Area, disturbed the peaceful ambience. I read Bird feeding by visitors has increased the number and aggressiveness of magpies. They may swoop and snatch food from people. For your safety, please do not feed magpies.’
Magpies: love them or hate them, they sure liven things up.
Happy travelling.