Wild Emus at The Lilly Pilly Tree

Pics
The chicks, just coming up on eight months of age, are no longer a cloud around Dad’s ankles. Dad is still ‘home base,’ and they cheep piteously if they manage to get left behind.



But they now move in a loose group, quite comfortable to be up to about forty metres from home base (unless they think they’ve been left behind . . . ).



They aren’t quite heavy enough to ‘thunder,’ but you can indeed hear them – Dad and all six – ‘thundering’ across the house-clearing.



They are presently foraging the small berries of a tree in the old orchard. We must try to figure out what it is, but it is what they initially thunder up to when they rock out of the bush.



The chicks are right now a l m o s t not quite the same. Two have figured out ‘the plate,’ and rush up and peck wheat from it when I appear. The other four, no. Their hair-do’s are also a l m o s t distinctive – but they never stop moving, readers; and I am having a hard time getting photos. One has on its upper neck a slightly different plumage.



Finally: we are way short of winter, or even serious autumn – and ‘The Big Jump’ has only just begun – but change is indeed in the air.



[Mummy Roo and Baby Roo come up to the bird bath most evenings. Baby Roo is so small it has to reach up, and hang on to the side of the bath, to get a drink. They drink a lot! A really surprising amount.]



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