Black-faced Cuckooshrike – Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST

On Saturday Night, I told the tale of the boxthorn bonanza that several species are engaged in at present.

The only real winner of course is the boxthorn as its seeds are spread far and wide by the steady stream of diners at the fest.
It is unusual, I think, to see more than one or two Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike in an area. In most locations where we find them, a pair, and perhaps a juvenile are the usual suspects. It is however noted in many areas that they gather in large flocks of 100 or more, particularly in the non-breeding season. Perhaps they are partly nomadic over winter.

So it was quite a surprise to find at least 14 of them coming and going regularly to the boxthorn playground. It seemed that on a whim, they would all fly out of the trees and disappear, which made it easy to work out the numbers.
And.
Equally on a whim, first one or two would return, followed rapidly by the remainder of the flock.
They have a lovely low call, often described as a soft churring, or more creatively as a yodelling like trill

Their flight pattern is best described as a few wing-flaps and an undulating glide with the wings against the body, repeated. So the flight is a series of rises and falls. They are neither a Cuckoo, nor, a Shrike. In New Zealand, one of the common names for them is “cherry hawk” And no doubt their fruit preference is to blame.
When they land, they will inevitably ‘shuffle’ their wings back and forth, earning them the nicknames “Shufflewing” or “Wingshuffler”.

When I first turned to bird photography they were among the earliest birds I photographed.

Over the past week, as the weather has been kind, we have visited their festive area several times and watched the comings and goings as they feed.
Here is a sample of the few days.

Enjoy

A funny place to start, but Ernest Hemingway, the great writer, once said of his craft, “Write all the story, take out the good bits, and see if it still makes works.” His crafted stories are strong, alive and engaging.
It has been said by those who know about writing critique, that his stories always left a little unanswered question or two. The magic that allowed the reader to participate.

When I was but a young lad, the world of Television was more a mystical dream, than a reality. Rather we’d gather round the radio with Serials, Entertainment, Humour, Dramas, and short fillers of all sorts of interesting topics.
The blog is too short to mention them, but my Mum waited to the mid afternoon for “Blue Hills”, after dinner it was “Dad and Dave”, the kids were enthralled by “Biggles” and all the spin offs.
The one thing, that I learned so much later in life was that as a listener, I became involved in the show, because I needed to add, “Imagination”. The theatre of the mind.

Any two people listening to the voices and story would conjure up quite different settings for the action. Such is the wonderful power of imagination.

Photographs, and by guilt-by-association, photographers, can often be simple records of the moment, and little involvement either by the maker, or the viewer.
Other times, the Hemingway moment is there and all the ‘good bits’ have been removed, either at the camera stage or in post, and what remains ‘still works’.

Magic that sings and dances a story into our brain, straight into the ‘theatre of the mind’. We see, feel, experience and add to the photo at an emotional level.

Sometimes a photo is a bit like a present. All wrapped up. And the excitement is as much in the unwrapping as it is in the beholding. Not knowing what is beneath.

It’s about not telling all, but rather letting the viewer decide.

The art of saying More with Less.

Keep takin’ Photos. We do.