Welcome to spring, when flowers bloom, days extend – and birds reign supreme.
It is a season when the feathered ones swoop and group, caw and call with such gusto that it feels as if they are intent on making human lives uncomfortable.
Brush turkeys are on the mate, with the males randomly haring across roads at inopportune moments in pursuit of some good-looking gal they spotted across the way. Wooing is flashy and lairy in turkey land.
Schmoozing also leads to posturing and scrapping, with humans getting caught in the crossfire or scrambling to avoid bird bunfights on paths and in parks.
The turkeys will shortly begin their annual attack on our gardens, scratching out and re-ordering, removing vegetation and taking up pathways to build their voluminous mounds to harbour the result of the current wooing. And there are so many mounds and so many eggs.
As the years roll on, the turkey numbers rise. For a species that is meant to be solitary, they now crowd out the bushland and foreshore, perfecting the art of tripping up runners and ripping up yards.
Animal lovers will sagely say that we are in their territory, that we must live around the wild and the free. But that is no longer true: they choose to be in our territory and live among us. They like it here, but they are lousy sharers.
The same goes for magpies, those smarty-pants birds with sharp eyes and an even sharper protective instincts. Turkeys might cause chaos on the ground, but maggies rule the skies.
Their approach is over the top by any measure – a nest that is so far up a tree it is blurry by sight leads to claw-and-beak attacks on all on the ground within coo-ee. It is as irrational as it is dangerous.
They terrorise cyclists, who swerve and skid. They attack little kids, who cry and scream.
Bird specialists say that female magpies don’t swoop and it is only one in 10 of the males do. If that is so, the magpie population must be out of control and a big portion of maggie males must be seriously highly strung.
Don’t get me wrong: I love the wildness of native animals as much as the domesticity of dogs and cats. But there comes a time where there needs to be a bit of a balancing up of rights to restore harmony.
The law says native species rule and humans drool. It is illegal for an unlicensed person – that is just about all of us – to move, injure or interfere with native wildlife. Fines of more than $430,000 or jail for up to two years uses a sledge hammer to crack that nut.
I reckon the lofty status of all things avian is, frankly, for the birds.
Dr Jane Stephens is a UniSC journalism lecturer, media commentator and writer. The views expressed are her own.
