Here’s a quick bit about birds. It’s got to the point with this blog that pretty much anything would be better than ongoing silence, so yes, it’s birds again.

Tramping about the wintry neighbourhood this afternoon with Archie, I happened on a couple of Silvereyes chit-chitting about their business, and was struck by a quick bolt of affection for these little specks of life.

It’s partly because, of all the avian species I’ve stalked, bothered, pursued and pestered, these are the most well-represented in my pics from Braidwood. I make no bones about the fact that this is because they’re the easiest to capture – that is, not counting the currawongs, galahs, parakeets and rosellas, which are shameless posers and pretty lippy with it.

No, the humble zosterops lateralis has a certain perky energy and, being so tiny, an admirable resilience which makes it way more interesting. And because it’s easier to immortalise through the miracle of pixels, you get more opportunities to see it engaged in the day-to-day business of living.

The fact that these hardy little nuggets are still around in the dead of winter drove me to do some googling to find out more about their habits. And it’s really quite an eye-opener: the fact is, silvereyes are intrepid travellers.

Some will fly as far as 1,600 km every year in autumn, from chilly Tasmania to the sunny beaches of Queensland. For a creature weighing all of 13 grams, that’s quite a trek. Others tend to hang around their native heath, presumably if there’s a healthy supply of bugs, fruit and nectar on hand to tide them over the colder months.

So when you see a little green birdie with silver eyeshadow that would do any drag queen proud, it may be a local Braidwood citizen, or it may just be stopping off for a little rest before resuming its epic journey. A ‘blow-in’, if you will – just like us.