Birding In Sydney

After days of rain and a house finally quiet, I followed the thread of a maybe — a single Pink-eared Duck, last seen before the storm. The saltmarsh by the airport felt like the wrong place to look for wonder: overgrown, collapsing, edged by tourists and concrete. And yet. There, behind a green bush in a shallow pond, something waited. Not rare, not triumphant — just quietly, beautifully still. This is the story of what I saw, what I almost missed, and the soft, stubborn hope

The day before my move, I stepped into Royal National Park carrying exhaustion and doubt. What I found was not escape, but presence: a Green Catbird emerald in storm-fall, a long-awaited Fan-tailed Cuckoo, lyrebirds scratching at the earth, and two Powerful Owls watching without urgency. Yet it was the smaller ones — honeyeaters, treecreeper, scrubwren - that lingered. Not spectacle, but quiet companionship.

Prologue: Seeking and Seeing Inspiration from possibility I came for the myzomela. Or maybe just the idea of it—the bright flicker, the...

A mindful birding trip through Oatley Park and Lime Kiln Bay, exploring Rose Robins, spoonbills, and ethical birdwatching practices. A personal reflection on belonging, restraint, and the quiet joy of observation.