In article om,
Trish Brown wrote:

Billy wrote:

Instead of ruing your fate, you may want to celebrate your sounds of
nature. The are many places in the U.S. where the only sound is the
background rumbling of traffic, or no sound at all in the wastelands of
housing tracts.

Y'know, you're absolutely right!

I really do love the many sounds of Nature at our place. It's just...
the bird in question (also known as 'the brain-fever bird) has an
extremely monotonous, ongoing call that *never* lets up. They even call
through the night! After a few weeks of that, I'm sure you can
understand why people get a tad impatient. ;D

Other than Mr Koel, we also have a flock of two hundred or so Sulphur
Crested Cockatoos that flies over our house a few times a day. They're
*deafening* (ie. you can't hear yourself speaking), but I usually bid
them a cheery 'G'day' because they're gorgeous, especially on clear
sunny summer days like today. The pure white of the flock as it wheels
across the sky is stunning. Then, in the right light, you see glimpses
of the sulphur-coloured feathers in their armpits. Lovely!

We get Galahs too: they're a smaller pink-and-grey parrot with equally
raucous voices. Oh, and Corellas (white). Rainbow Lorikeets
(multi-coloured). Eastern Rosellas (multi-coloured). Crimson Rosellas
(red/blue) and King Parrots (red/green). Then, of course, there's the
overhead passers-by, like pelicans and egrets, herons and ibises. Very
occasionally, there'll be something exciting, like a Spotted Harrier, a
Sea Eagle, a Wedge-Tailed Eagle or the nifty little Australian Falcon
who lives on top of our local hospital with his missus. He's *deadly*:
so fast, you barely know you've seen him streaking by!

Reptiles are pretty plentiful too. We get big fat Blue Tongue lizards (a
big female will grow to about eighteen inches or so) that eat the snails
and slugs for us. There's all sorts of medium-sized skinks and then the
occasional Bearded Dragon or Water Dragon might visit. For a few years,
we had a Red-bellied Black Snake living under our house (name of
Snidely). He was *great*. We never saw a single mouse in the house when
Snidely was living with us!

I've counted five species of frogs in our garden and we encourage those
by giving them lots of begonias to hide in and a pond for their - er -
courtship requirements. I *love* the frog-music at night, especially
when it's been raining. They all seem to want to sing in the rain and so
we have a chorus of Gene Kelly wannabes to serenade us to sleep.

I hope this hasn't been too much raving on, but you reminded me how
lucky I am to live where I do. I couldn't bear not being surrounded by
living things! Here in Oz, even city-dwellers like me can have that.

Your Kookaburra sounds similar to our Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus
pileatus), although it sounds as if you have way more birds than I do.
http://www.enature.com/fieldguides/d...searchText=woo
dpecker&cmdSubmit.x=13&cmdSubmit.y=10&GroupID=&cur GroupID=1&lgfromWhere=&
curPageNum=4

I attribute, in part, the lack of bad bugs in my garden to the bird
feeder, and bath which attracts chickadees (Chestnut-backed Chickadee
[Poecile rufescens]).

We also have many blue Jays that are really quite Stellar, but no one is
going to confuse them with songbirds.

Newcastle, and its environs, looks to be a very nice place.
--

Billy

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the clouds of war, it is humanity hanging on a cross of iron.
- Dwight D. Eisenhower, 16 April 1953