Now what? asks Terence.
We wait for Arthur to come back with a map, says Jinjing.
Are we lost? asks Terence.
No, says Jinjing. Arthur took a photo of a forty spotted pardalote. Amanda wants us to mark the spot where he saw it.
Where? asks Terence.
On the map, says Jinjing.
But where did he see it? asks Terence
He didn't see it, says Jinjing.
But you SAID, says Terence.
It was behind him, says Jinjing. Arthur was taking a selfie. And the pardalote was in it.
Did he know? asks Terence.
Arthur or the forty spotted pardalote? asks Jinjing.
The bird, stupid, says Terence. I know Arthur didn't, because the bird was behind him.
No, I don't suppose the bird knew, says Jinjing. It flew off, soon after.
This seems like a complicated bird spotting method to Terence.
What if Arthur sees another one while he's walking? says Terence.
He'll have to remember where he saw it, says Jinjing.
What if it's the same one? asks Terence.
What did you say you were doing before you became independent? asks Jinjing.
Listening, says Terence.
Well, let's just do that, says Jinjing.
.......
Gaius is also listening, some short distance away.
It's quiet without Terence.
He has retrieved all his papers, and is trying to put them in order.
It would help if the pages were numbered.
A future task for Arthur.
He wonders how Arthur is doing. Perhaps he should call.
But this is not the time or the place for a phone call.
His phone rings. Several birds who had been quiet in nearby trees fly away.
Drat! What type of birds were they?
He answers abruptly. Yes, who is it?
It's Katherine. Surely Gaius, you have me in your list of contacts. Couldn't you see who was calling?
I didn't look, says Gaius. Several birds have flown away, unidentified, startled by your phone call.
Very sorry, says Katherine. But if that's the case, why isn't your phone switched to silent?
Too late now, says Gaius. Birds have flown. What is it?
I'm at the Bruny Island Cheese Co, says Katherine, and they have such wonderful cheeses. I thought of you, with your cracked tooth. There are some lovely soft ones.
I'd forgotten about my tooth until you reminded me, says Gaius.
Nevertheless, says Katherine. I could drop by with one. There's one called o.d.o, it's one day old, marinated in olive oil with fresh garlic, roast capsicum and herbs.
One day old, I wouldn't trust that, says Gaius. What else is there?
Oen, says Katherine, pinot washed in vine leaves. Soft and fudgey. Or the Saint, soft and oozy.
Gaius had not given a moment's thought to cheese since he sat down to bird watch. But now he feels peckish.
They both sound very pleasant, says Gaius.
So where are you? asks Katherine.
In a forest. I'll meet you at the Jetty Café, in half an hour, says Gaius.
See you there, says Katherine.
Gaius sighs. That's half the morning's bird watching ruined.
But look on the bright side.
Cheese.
And a chance to get his notes sorted properly by Arthur.
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
How To Be Silent
Amanda is up in a tree when she receives Arthur's selfie.
She drops a few zip ties, while getting out her phone.
Doesn't matter. She has more of them.
She looks at the photo.
Arthur is quite a good looking young man. Could do with a haircut.
But his eyes are pale blue, irradiated with dark blue. How unusual.
She remembers she is meant to be looking at the bird in the background.
Yes, it could well be a forty spotted pardalote, side on.
She counts twenty spots.
She calls Arthur.
Well done, you've spotted your first one. Place a dot on the survey map.
Haven't got one, says Arthur.
Send your drone robot, says Amanda. I'll give him a copy.
Okay, says Arthur.
Jinjing is tired of being a gopher.
I'll go, says Jinjing, But I might take a break before I come back.
Bring some food, says Arthur.
Better idea, says Jinjing. How about you go, and I wait here. I know how to be silent.
Arthur knows how to be silent, but he also wants food. And lurking is boring.
He will go back and find Amanda.
No. First he will go back to the Jetty Café and pick up some food. That banana and bacon breakfast.
Okay, says Arthur. If you see any whatsits or hear any wheet-wheets, let me know.
Sure, says Jinjing. I'll make a note. Now go, and go quietly.
Arthur tiptoes away.
Wheet-wheet!
That was fast, thinks Jinjing. I wouldn't have expected to hear one so soon.
But who is this crashing through the low shrubbery?
It's Terence.
He had been doing his task. Listening. He had heard a wheet-wheet sound. He had silently tapped Gaius on the shoulder. Gaius had turned rather suddenly, and all his bird notes had scattered. Gaius had been... not angry... but flustered. Maybe worse than flustered. But not angry, no.
However, after that, Terence had decided to follow the wheet-wheet independently.
Which had led him to Jinjing.
Can we talk? asks Terence.
Of course, says Jinjing. Why not?
I'm not allowed to, says Terence. I'm listening.
I'm listening too, says Jinjing. I heard a wheet-wheet.
No, I heard it, says Terence. I was supposed to tap Gaius, and I tapped him.
What went wrong? asks Jinjing.
Everything, says Terence. His papers blew off.
Was he angry? asks Jinjing.
No, says Terence, but I'm now independent.
That's good, says Jinjing. You will grow as a person.
Debatable. But it was a nice thing to tell Terence.
She drops a few zip ties, while getting out her phone.
Doesn't matter. She has more of them.
She looks at the photo.
Arthur is quite a good looking young man. Could do with a haircut.
But his eyes are pale blue, irradiated with dark blue. How unusual.
She remembers she is meant to be looking at the bird in the background.
Yes, it could well be a forty spotted pardalote, side on.
She counts twenty spots.
She calls Arthur.
Well done, you've spotted your first one. Place a dot on the survey map.
Haven't got one, says Arthur.
Send your drone robot, says Amanda. I'll give him a copy.
Okay, says Arthur.
Jinjing is tired of being a gopher.
I'll go, says Jinjing, But I might take a break before I come back.
Bring some food, says Arthur.
Better idea, says Jinjing. How about you go, and I wait here. I know how to be silent.
Arthur knows how to be silent, but he also wants food. And lurking is boring.
He will go back and find Amanda.
No. First he will go back to the Jetty Café and pick up some food. That banana and bacon breakfast.
Okay, says Arthur. If you see any whatsits or hear any wheet-wheets, let me know.
Sure, says Jinjing. I'll make a note. Now go, and go quietly.
Arthur tiptoes away.
Wheet-wheet!
That was fast, thinks Jinjing. I wouldn't have expected to hear one so soon.
But who is this crashing through the low shrubbery?
It's Terence.
He had been doing his task. Listening. He had heard a wheet-wheet sound. He had silently tapped Gaius on the shoulder. Gaius had turned rather suddenly, and all his bird notes had scattered. Gaius had been... not angry... but flustered. Maybe worse than flustered. But not angry, no.
However, after that, Terence had decided to follow the wheet-wheet independently.
Which had led him to Jinjing.
Can we talk? asks Terence.
Of course, says Jinjing. Why not?
I'm not allowed to, says Terence. I'm listening.
I'm listening too, says Jinjing. I heard a wheet-wheet.
No, I heard it, says Terence. I was supposed to tap Gaius, and I tapped him.
What went wrong? asks Jinjing.
Everything, says Terence. His papers blew off.
Was he angry? asks Jinjing.
No, says Terence, but I'm now independent.
That's good, says Jinjing. You will grow as a person.
Debatable. But it was a nice thing to tell Terence.
Monday, November 25, 2019
Modern Bird Watching
Arthur has climbed down the tree, leaving the broadcasting device on.
Now he's supposed to lurk somewhere, waiting.
He looks for a suitable spot.
He finds one.
I'll lurk somewhere nearby, says Jinjing. Two lurkers in the same spot might look suspicious.
Jinjing looks for a suitable spot.
He finds one.
Nothing to do now but wait.
Sleep-may-be, sleep-may-be, sleep may be! (That's the recording).
Wheet-wheet! (That's not).
Did you hear that? asks Arthur.
I did hear it, says Jinjing. Wheet-wheet. It's not on our recording.
Go and find Amanda, says Arthur.
Okay, says Jinjing.
She is some distance away, up another tree, attaching a broadcasting device.
She is not using string.
Arthur used string, says Jinjing.
Why? asks Amanda. I gave him some zip ties.
He must have dropped them, says Jinjing.
Easy to do. Other than that, how's it going? asks Amanda.
We have a question, says Jinjing. Is wheet-wheet in the forty spotted pardalote's vocabulary?
Yes, says Amanda. But it's tricky. The call and response are a single wheet, so it's two birds communicating. Makes it hard to pinpoint the direction.
But they must do it, says Jinjing. Thanks. I'll tell Arthur.
Before you go, says Amanda, does Arthur have a camera?
Yes, says Jinjing. He took a selfie, up in the tree. There was a bird in it.
Get him to send it to me, says Amanda. And any other birds he spots, too.
Okay, says Jinjing.
He flies off, back to Arthur.
Any info? asks Arthur.
Yes, says Jinjing.
He explains the call and response wheets. Wheet-wheet means two birds in two different locations.
Complicated, says Arthur. But not my problem. Anything else?
She wants you to send her the selfie, says Jinjing. I told her there was a bird in it.
What's her number? asks Arthur.
Jinjing sighs. He will have to fly back again,.
Really! Modern bird watching sucks.
Now he's supposed to lurk somewhere, waiting.
He looks for a suitable spot.
He finds one.
I'll lurk somewhere nearby, says Jinjing. Two lurkers in the same spot might look suspicious.
Jinjing looks for a suitable spot.
He finds one.
Nothing to do now but wait.
Sleep-may-be, sleep-may-be, sleep may be! (That's the recording).
Wheet-wheet! (That's not).
Did you hear that? asks Arthur.
I did hear it, says Jinjing. Wheet-wheet. It's not on our recording.
Go and find Amanda, says Arthur.
Okay, says Jinjing.
She is some distance away, up another tree, attaching a broadcasting device.
She is not using string.
Arthur used string, says Jinjing.
Why? asks Amanda. I gave him some zip ties.
He must have dropped them, says Jinjing.
Easy to do. Other than that, how's it going? asks Amanda.
We have a question, says Jinjing. Is wheet-wheet in the forty spotted pardalote's vocabulary?
Yes, says Amanda. But it's tricky. The call and response are a single wheet, so it's two birds communicating. Makes it hard to pinpoint the direction.
But they must do it, says Jinjing. Thanks. I'll tell Arthur.
Before you go, says Amanda, does Arthur have a camera?
Yes, says Jinjing. He took a selfie, up in the tree. There was a bird in it.
Get him to send it to me, says Amanda. And any other birds he spots, too.
Okay, says Jinjing.
He flies off, back to Arthur.
Any info? asks Arthur.
Yes, says Jinjing.
He explains the call and response wheets. Wheet-wheet means two birds in two different locations.
Complicated, says Arthur. But not my problem. Anything else?
She wants you to send her the selfie, says Jinjing. I told her there was a bird in it.
What's her number? asks Arthur.
Jinjing sighs. He will have to fly back again,.
Really! Modern bird watching sucks.
Sunday, November 24, 2019
Out, Off, Listen
Gaius waits under a eucalypt for Terence to catch up.
He has sent P. krameri to fetch him.
He's coming, says P. krameri, landing on the ground next to Gaius.
What's he doing? asks Gaius.
Hitting a tree with a stick, says P. krameri.
That won't do, says Gaius.
Terence stamps up, with his stick.
Put that stick away, says Gaius. You'll be scaring the birds off.
I was scaring them OUT, says Terence.
Out, off, says Gaius. Either way, they'll be leaving the area.
I saw one, says Terence.
What did it look like? asks Gaius. Try to recall.
I didn't recall, says Terence. I made a stick sound.
Try to remember, says Gaius.
Terence scrapes his stick on a tree.
What it LOOKED like, says Gaius. What were its colours?
Terence tries to remember. It flew by him so fast.
Blurry, says Terence.
Was it small, grey-brown in the upper parts, with pale spots, a black crown, wings and tail, white eyebrows and a reddish rump? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Terence, guessing.
Then it wasn't a forty spotted pardalote, says Gaius. It was a spotted pardelote. They are quite common.
It might not have had eyebrows, says Terence.
In that case we have a puzzle, says Gaius.
Terence scrapes the stick on a rock he has noticed.
A bird flies out from the top of the eucalypt under which they are standing.
But no one sees what kind it is.
I'll follow it, says P. krameri, taking off in the same direction.
Good bird, says Gaius. Now Terence, I shall give you a task.
What is it? asks Terence.
Listening, says Gaius. And there must be no sounds from you.
Or you, says Terence.
Or me, says Gaius. I want you to listen for the call of the forty spotted pardelote. It sounds like a squeaky swing. Or wheet-wheet. Or sleep-may-be.
Then what? asks Terence.
And if you hear it, come and silently tap me on the shoulder, says Gaius.
Terence nods. This is a good task. He can do it.
He has sent P. krameri to fetch him.
He's coming, says P. krameri, landing on the ground next to Gaius.
What's he doing? asks Gaius.
Hitting a tree with a stick, says P. krameri.
That won't do, says Gaius.
Terence stamps up, with his stick.
Put that stick away, says Gaius. You'll be scaring the birds off.
I was scaring them OUT, says Terence.
Out, off, says Gaius. Either way, they'll be leaving the area.
I saw one, says Terence.
What did it look like? asks Gaius. Try to recall.
I didn't recall, says Terence. I made a stick sound.
Try to remember, says Gaius.
Terence scrapes his stick on a tree.
What it LOOKED like, says Gaius. What were its colours?
Terence tries to remember. It flew by him so fast.
Blurry, says Terence.
Was it small, grey-brown in the upper parts, with pale spots, a black crown, wings and tail, white eyebrows and a reddish rump? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Terence, guessing.
Then it wasn't a forty spotted pardalote, says Gaius. It was a spotted pardelote. They are quite common.
It might not have had eyebrows, says Terence.
In that case we have a puzzle, says Gaius.
Terence scrapes the stick on a rock he has noticed.
A bird flies out from the top of the eucalypt under which they are standing.
But no one sees what kind it is.
I'll follow it, says P. krameri, taking off in the same direction.
Good bird, says Gaius. Now Terence, I shall give you a task.
What is it? asks Terence.
Listening, says Gaius. And there must be no sounds from you.
Or you, says Terence.
Or me, says Gaius. I want you to listen for the call of the forty spotted pardelote. It sounds like a squeaky swing. Or wheet-wheet. Or sleep-may-be.
Then what? asks Terence.
And if you hear it, come and silently tap me on the shoulder, says Gaius.
Terence nods. This is a good task. He can do it.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Waiting For String
Arthur is now up a tree.
He is trying to set up the broadcasting device for Amanda.
The broadcasting device keeps on slipping.
What Arthur needs is some string.
You need string, says Jinjing, who is up the tree with him.
Yes, string, says Arthur. But I don't want to go down and climb all the way up again.
I'll go, says Jinjing.
Arthur waits in the forked branch of the white gum.
He is high in the eucalypt canopy.
Several birds have already flown by him. Some have landed, stared hard at Arthur, and left, without speaking.
It's boring, waiting for string.
He pulls his phone from his shorts pocket. No messages.
He wonders what Sweezus is doing.
Why not send him a message? And a selfie. Look at me. I'm up a tree, waiting for string.
He takes a selfie and sends the photo to Sweezus, with the message.
Probably won't get there.
And where is Jinjing with the string?
Bzzz. A message comes back almost at once. Arthur almost falls out of his tree.
It's from Sweezus.
What you need string 4? 40 spots, bro.
Arthur wonders why Sweezus would have said forty spots bro.
He looks again at his selfie.
It's him. But what's that small bird in the background, with a dull greenish brown back and head and no brow line, an olive rump and dull yellow undertail, a white chest with yellow tints, and black wings with ( maybe) forty white dots on the tips?
Of course the bird is not there now.
But Jinjing has returned with the string.
Thanks, says Arthur. He fixes the broadcasting device to the tree with the string.
He tests it, the way Amanda showed him, by turning it on.
It works. The call of the headache bird.
Sleep may be! Sleep may be! Sleep may be!
He is trying to set up the broadcasting device for Amanda.
The broadcasting device keeps on slipping.
What Arthur needs is some string.
You need string, says Jinjing, who is up the tree with him.
Yes, string, says Arthur. But I don't want to go down and climb all the way up again.
I'll go, says Jinjing.
Arthur waits in the forked branch of the white gum.
He is high in the eucalypt canopy.
Several birds have already flown by him. Some have landed, stared hard at Arthur, and left, without speaking.
It's boring, waiting for string.
He pulls his phone from his shorts pocket. No messages.
He wonders what Sweezus is doing.
Why not send him a message? And a selfie. Look at me. I'm up a tree, waiting for string.
He takes a selfie and sends the photo to Sweezus, with the message.
Probably won't get there.
And where is Jinjing with the string?
Bzzz. A message comes back almost at once. Arthur almost falls out of his tree.
It's from Sweezus.
What you need string 4? 40 spots, bro.
Arthur wonders why Sweezus would have said forty spots bro.
He looks again at his selfie.
It's him. But what's that small bird in the background, with a dull greenish brown back and head and no brow line, an olive rump and dull yellow undertail, a white chest with yellow tints, and black wings with ( maybe) forty white dots on the tips?
Of course the bird is not there now.
But Jinjing has returned with the string.
Thanks, says Arthur. He fixes the broadcasting device to the tree with the string.
He tests it, the way Amanda showed him, by turning it on.
It works. The call of the headache bird.
Sleep may be! Sleep may be! Sleep may be!
Friday, November 22, 2019
Synthetic Empathy
Someone else is having a late breakfast in the café.
She comes over.
Did I hear poetry? says she.
You might have, says Arthur. What did it sound like?
Poetry, says Amanda. I like poetry, but I'm not here for that. What are you here for?
Nothing much, says Arthur. And you?
I'm an endangered bird researcher, says Amanda. How long have you been here?
Just got here this morning, says Arthur. I'm an endangered bird researcher too.
Cool, says Amanda. Want to hook up? I've been let down by a colleague.
All right, says Arthur.
Whaaat? squawks Jinjing. You're supposed to be resting!
Cute toy parrot, says Amanda. Is it one of those ones from Hong Kong?
It's a drone robot, says Arthur. Got GPS, and synthetic empathy.
Fabulous, says Amanda. Wish I could afford one. All I've got is recording equipment for broadcast surveys and digital maps for transect point surveys.
We've brought some lerps, says Jinjing.
Lerps are not hard to find, says Amanda. Are you looking for any endangered bird in particular?
One called Spotty, says Jinjing.
Ah. The legendary Spotty, says Amanda. A forty spotted pardalote. That's what I'm looking for too.
What do you want us to do? asks Arthur.
Climb a white gum and set up the tape recording of the bird call, says Amanda. Then wait somewhere out of sight to see if you elicit a response.
What about you? asks Arthur.
Same, says Amanda. Two skilled observers improve the likelihood of detection.
Arthur realises it's now a bit late to ask what a forty spotted pardalote looks like.
He supposes that Jinjing will know.
He finishes his porridge and stands up, wincing.
Sore knee? asks Amanda. Will that be a problem?
No, says Arthur.
How'd you get it? asks Amanda.
Knife fight, says Arthur.
Seems a bit low on the body for that, says Amanda.
With a lobster, says Arthur.
Amanda assumes he is joking.
She comes over.
Did I hear poetry? says she.
You might have, says Arthur. What did it sound like?
Poetry, says Amanda. I like poetry, but I'm not here for that. What are you here for?
Nothing much, says Arthur. And you?
I'm an endangered bird researcher, says Amanda. How long have you been here?
Just got here this morning, says Arthur. I'm an endangered bird researcher too.
Cool, says Amanda. Want to hook up? I've been let down by a colleague.
All right, says Arthur.
Whaaat? squawks Jinjing. You're supposed to be resting!
Cute toy parrot, says Amanda. Is it one of those ones from Hong Kong?
It's a drone robot, says Arthur. Got GPS, and synthetic empathy.
Fabulous, says Amanda. Wish I could afford one. All I've got is recording equipment for broadcast surveys and digital maps for transect point surveys.
We've brought some lerps, says Jinjing.
Lerps are not hard to find, says Amanda. Are you looking for any endangered bird in particular?
One called Spotty, says Jinjing.
Ah. The legendary Spotty, says Amanda. A forty spotted pardalote. That's what I'm looking for too.
What do you want us to do? asks Arthur.
Climb a white gum and set up the tape recording of the bird call, says Amanda. Then wait somewhere out of sight to see if you elicit a response.
What about you? asks Arthur.
Same, says Amanda. Two skilled observers improve the likelihood of detection.
Arthur realises it's now a bit late to ask what a forty spotted pardalote looks like.
He supposes that Jinjing will know.
He finishes his porridge and stands up, wincing.
Sore knee? asks Amanda. Will that be a problem?
No, says Arthur.
How'd you get it? asks Amanda.
Knife fight, says Arthur.
Seems a bit low on the body for that, says Amanda.
With a lobster, says Arthur.
Amanda assumes he is joking.
Thursday, November 21, 2019
Truncated Time
Gaius is enjoying his roasted oats and brown rice porridge.
Arthur is not.
Arthur chews steadily. His knee tingles.
Am I number two now? asks Terence.
Number two? says Gaius.
I told Jerry I was, says Terence. Because Arthur's poisoned.
I see, says Gaius. Number two in the team.
YES! says Terence. Am I?
Arthur does not appear to be poisoned, says Gaius. But I suppose he should take things easy for the rest of today.
Arthur keeps chewing.
What do you think, Arthur? You potter about in this vicinity, and I'll go further afield.
With me, says Terence.
And your parrots, says Gaius. They will be number three.
I object, says P. krameri.
So do I, says Jinjing. I'm staying with Arthur.
I withdraw my objection, says P. krameri.
Some things work out with no bother.
Come then, says Gaius. Terence and P. krameri. On foot. I'll leave my bike here with you, Arthur.
Okay, says Arthur.
What will you do? asks Gaius.
I'll ask around, says Arthur. Someone here might have seen a spotted pardalote.
Good man, says Gaius.
Off they go.
Number one, Gaius, number two, Terence, and number three, P. krameri.
Arthur stops eating his porridge and leans back in his chair.
His poem is taking shape nicely.
He tries out a few lines on Jinjing.
The green and yellow bandage, stinking of fish
Manna ripped from forked branches, tasting of cheese
Red tailed birds fight over detritus...
Excellent, says Jinjing. Very modern. Like mine.
What's yours? asks Arthur.
Just a little thing I made up in Penguin, says Jinjing. It's quite long , but here's a sample:
I enter the dark region
Seeking the wrong bottle
Fumes overpower me
I drop it.
You drop it before you find it, says Arthur.
No, I find it, then I drop it, says Jinjing. I've truncated time.
Clever, says Arthur. So the hearer intuits.
Jinjing turns a deeper shade of red in his red parts, after this praise from Arthur.
(or does he? the reader intuits)
Arthur is not.
Arthur chews steadily. His knee tingles.
Am I number two now? asks Terence.
Number two? says Gaius.
I told Jerry I was, says Terence. Because Arthur's poisoned.
I see, says Gaius. Number two in the team.
YES! says Terence. Am I?
Arthur does not appear to be poisoned, says Gaius. But I suppose he should take things easy for the rest of today.
Arthur keeps chewing.
What do you think, Arthur? You potter about in this vicinity, and I'll go further afield.
With me, says Terence.
And your parrots, says Gaius. They will be number three.
I object, says P. krameri.
So do I, says Jinjing. I'm staying with Arthur.
I withdraw my objection, says P. krameri.
Some things work out with no bother.
Come then, says Gaius. Terence and P. krameri. On foot. I'll leave my bike here with you, Arthur.
Okay, says Arthur.
What will you do? asks Gaius.
I'll ask around, says Arthur. Someone here might have seen a spotted pardalote.
Good man, says Gaius.
Off they go.
Number one, Gaius, number two, Terence, and number three, P. krameri.
Arthur stops eating his porridge and leans back in his chair.
His poem is taking shape nicely.
He tries out a few lines on Jinjing.
The green and yellow bandage, stinking of fish
Manna ripped from forked branches, tasting of cheese
Red tailed birds fight over detritus...
Excellent, says Jinjing. Very modern. Like mine.
What's yours? asks Arthur.
Just a little thing I made up in Penguin, says Jinjing. It's quite long , but here's a sample:
I enter the dark region
Seeking the wrong bottle
Fumes overpower me
I drop it.
You drop it before you find it, says Arthur.
No, I find it, then I drop it, says Jinjing. I've truncated time.
Clever, says Arthur. So the hearer intuits.
Jinjing turns a deeper shade of red in his red parts, after this praise from Arthur.
(or does he? the reader intuits)
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