A bevy of birds

The birds in my garden may not be exotic, but they are comfortably familiar to a very amateur birder such as myself. The variety and characteristics of each little bird make it easy to understand why so many people devote a lifetime to the hobby of twitching - travelling vast distances to briefly see a bird in an unusual location, or sometimes not even see it, or sitting silently for hours in a wooden hut at the edge of a lagoon in winter with binoculars trained on a reed bed, waiting for an elusive crake to emerge. For the moment, I am more than happy to observe little brown jobs from the comfort of my deck as they flit in and out of view, attracted by the plants, bits of fruit, suet ball and seed ball. The coprosma which bore prolific berries for 30 years and sustained generations of Cape White Eyes succumbed to last summer's intense heat and drought, which was a great shame as I prefer birds to feed naturally, but I do want to keep them in the garden. The dreadful sticky mess that the discarded seeds and overripe berries made on the brick paving won't be missed, though!
Tuesday's light rain at dawn was just what the birds wanted, and they partied en masse in the dripping undergrowth, preening and puffing out their little chests in joyous celebration of bathtime. The list was long: southern boubou, fiscal flycatcher, Cape robin chat, weaver, canary, Cape White Eye, house sparrow, rock pigeon, turtle dove, laughing dove, bulbul, lesser double-collared sunbird and even a lone hadedah. I didn't know where to look first and there was just no chance of a photo! But here are some from another time.