This weekend we were whale watching when a small little bird friend decided to make a very loud noise. I have not seen this little friend before, but I have heard its call for many years. It is typical of the fynbos biome from Kleinmond to Hermanus for me. When I walk there in nature and I hear the call of this little friend, I feel at home, almost as if something primal is calling me, reminding me of where I need to be.
But it is also interesting to note the difference in size, from the small little friend hopping around on top of the bushes to the massive whale lying in the even bigger ocean.
Even though the small tail is the only evidence of the whale, we all know the colossal beasts lying underneath the waters. The small bird, small enough to snuggly fit into the palms of my hand, is such a stark contrast that my mind almost does not want to fathom and understand it.
Have some of the most energetic movements of all the birds in this area, I have never really ever seen them. This one had so much energy in its little body that I could almost not catch it on camera! Luckily, my continuous mode was set to high so I managed to burst-capture a couple of images of it before it ducked into the thicket, not to be seen again, but surely heard!
Its little tail is lifted in the air as it almost looks like a wagtail, wagging its tail feathers high into the air! Its eyes obviously locked on small insects ready to dive into the fynbos bushes at any second. Rather than fly, it hops to and fro over the leaves and branches to get to the small insects. And then... it dives!
But soon it emerges again, but this time with its tail high up in the air, and in my mind, symbolising victory. It caught its little snack somewhere in the thicket.
It celebrates with the familiar call, reminding me again of the primal feeling, calling me even deeper into the wild, into the fynbos. Those living in this area will surely understand, as the call of this little friend brings about memories of coastal holidays and sunny afternoons, hikes in the mountain with only the fynbos plants on either side of you.
Marching from one side of the bush to the other, it walks almost on water with its smallness and light footedness. My heart aches with the comparison of the big whales and this small bird that almost weighs nothing in terms of the massive weight of the whale.
And then, just before it darted off, in the usual fashion, it looked to the right, and then to the left, lifting its tail, calling to its friends or celebrating its catch, it darts off onto another bush searching for more bugs and small insects.
And then I was left alone, with the call only now in the distance, the wind taking its poetic beauty away, returning me to the whales. A momentary glitch, a sweet short memory forever imprinted in my mind, now concretised with my thinking back to the moment. How wonderful nature and life become when we actually take the time to look, to notice, to slow down.
I hope that you enjoyed the photographs of this little sweet friend, a small one compared to the massive whales, but also compared to the bigger birds out there.
For now, happy birding, and stay well.
The photographs used in this post are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom lens. The musings, albeit inspired by nostalgia, are also my own.