Beautiful time machines: How the call of the Yellow-Tailed Black Cockatoo takes me straight back to childhood
Memories are weird. Probably because brains are weird with their wiring and rewiring and bits that light up or get sick and die. It’s so strange though that a smell or a place or a taste or a sound can take you back to an unrelated moment in time. For me it’s the eerie call of the Yellow-Tailed Black Cockatoos. The first hint of their mournful cry and I am back, tucked up in bed, the sun still up, the light bleeding in around my blinds, my sleep cycle unsettled by daylight savings. I am back in the smallish town where I grew up before it turned into a mini-metropolis with a Woolies and fast food joints and a couple of schools and before the cows and the horses leave and are replaced by houses, so many houses.
I am back there while those beautiful black cockatoos fly their slow flight overhead. I can’t see them. I don’t even think that I even know what they look like at this point. But I definitely know that cry. I have no real idea how old I am as I lay listening to those birds. I am four. I am six. I am nine.
And today, without fail, as soon as I hear those wailing cries, no matter how far in the distance, I catch myself running outside. It’s as if some muscle memory kicks in and I have to find them. Around here, they love to snack on the seeds of the banksia, dropping big chunks messily on the ground beneath them, my ears pricking up as they sort of coo to themselves mid munch while further afield, they love to feast on pine cones.
Whether my love for them as an adult has come from having them regularly around our house where they’ve become a part of my week or if it’s this strange, almost overwhelming emotion that bubbles up from deep inside when I hear their call, or a combination of both, I guess it doesn’t matter. Either way, these birds remain one of my very favourites. Regardless of my love for them, the thing that they really love is the larvae of wood boring beetles which incredibly they can hear wiggling deep inside the wood. I often hear them in my neighbour’s tree (the cockies that is; not the grubs 😉), a sound not unlike that of nails dragging down a chalk board as they use their huge, sharp beak to tear back the bark to get to the grubs which they pull at in a macabre kind of tug of war, the larvae still half in their home inside the tree, the other half, clamped tightly in the beak of the bird as it pulls and pulls again. Spoiler alert, the cockatoo always win!
Yellow Tailed-Black Cockatoo – Northern Illawarra
5 Comments
Denise Ravenscroft
Such beautiful pics and post BZ. You put it so perfectly : “as soon as I hear those wailing cries, no matter how far in the distance, I catch myself running outside. It’s as if some muscle memory kicks in and I have to find them.” I do the same every time I hear them coming – its a mad dash to grab the camera and get out there to see these magical birds. I’ve taken like a mad woman to calling back to the birds when they arrive. It feels so wonderful to do this! Perhaps soon I’ll be sprouting wings…LOL. 😂💖💚
backyardzoology
Hahahahah I can’t tell you how good it makes me feel to know that I’m not alone! I love nature, pretty much all of it. But there really is something particularly special about these birds that just kicks me right in the guts. Beauitful, beautiful creatures. I’ll join you on the wing sprouting thing!
Marg Craig
Oh, I’m glad I’m not alone! Great post and pics as always , Amanda! I, too, take off after these birds as soon as I hear their squawking then when I see that they’ve landed in a low bush, start to sneak so I don’t scare them off much to the amusement of passer-bys. Least we’re getting our exercise. Most of ours fly down from the mountains when the weather is bad up there but there is a small family that seem to be here most of the year. Funny and still haven’t found it to be true but people still count the cockies and how many there are then that’s how many days of rain we’ll get. Never worked out for me like that yet, thank God, otherwise I’d have to build a bloody ark! Lol
barbara kwaak
Oh, I know what you mean with memories going through weird wiring…for me it’s light as well.
Particular sunny days, often spring time in Oz, will remind me of summer days in Europe when I was young.
I didn’t grow up in Oz, so some of my most hardwired bird sound memories is the common blackbird.
They have the most beautiful singing and rolling call, and often seem to tell whole stories! Especially a bit later in spring, they start VERY early when it starts to get light around 4am-ish…waking up to that is just a delight.
Love your work Amanda! Wishing you strenght with yet another lockdown, and forever enver ending restrictions in Australia it seems…here in the Netherlands we are moving towards “normal life”…
backyardzoology
Oh that’s so interesting about the light!!! I’m trying to think if there’s anything similar for me, but it’s just sounds and smells really. I love the Blackbird, we actually had one rummaging through the leaf litter the other day. You’re so right about their song! It’s so beautiful – and lucky me – no early wake up 😉
We’ve been pretty lucky in NSW as this is only our second lockdown. Came as such a shock though I have to admit. I was really feeling like life was normal, catching up with friends, long lunches out, people going to the footy (not me ha!) but just felt, I don’t know…better? So watching a few states locking back down has been a real wake up call.
So glad that parts of the world are heading in the right direction! Wow, I still can’t believe it – quite an 18 months we’ve had! Stay safe x