A lyrebird was incredibly vocal as the day was winding down. So many variations of sound: short staccato raps then long whistles blending into burring chirps that suddenly become melodic warbles while whip cracking follow a succession of chirrups and blooop bloop bloops interrupted by an almost cawwing then cooing voice, it has been going on and on and on all from the one spot further up the spur. A constant showcase of it’s repertoire. Such an energetic soul…
Diary from a treesitter in the Bulga State Forest 46
