Maybe it's just me, but I am sometimes puzzled by the behaviour of birds.
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I hear crows call as they fly overhead, and they sound so enthusiastic and determined at the start with their "ark, ark, ark".
But then it all suddenly turns to dejected disappointment, with their final "aaaaaaaaarrrrk" sounding like a reflection of heartbreak that their call has not been answered.
Could crows be like that person we all know, who craves constant and immediate validation from others, and who slips into a bad mood when it is not received.
But what could crows possibly have to be depressed about?
And then there are Indian myna birds - widely regarded as an invasive pest species.
After being released in Australia during the 1860s in an effort to control pest insects in Victoria's market gardens, which did failed to do, Indian mynas have become a major issue along much of the east coast - including my back yard.
They are aggressive birds that cab displace native wildlife and pose a potential health when they congregate in large numbers, like whenever I feed my dogs.
I swear they must have bionic hearing, because as soon as the kibble hits the dogs bowls in the morning it's a bit like the scene from Once Were Warriors where Jake Heke says to everyone at the pub, "Party at my place tonight".
Suddenly they are all over the place - 20 sitting on the rail for the safety net around the trampoline, more on top of the garden shed and others along the fence.
Fair dinkum, it is a scene straight out of Alfred Hitchcock's 1963 movie The Birds, as the mynas stare menacingly, waiting for the dogs to walk away and leave their bowls unprotected.
Because as soon as the dogs depart the birds swoop, squabbling over the dry food and grabbing as much as they can, as quickly as they can.
And as I sit and watch the birds gather in their masses, waiting to attack the food, I wonder if they mistake my efforts to feed the dogs as me actually presenting them with a smorgasbord, interrupted only by canine intruders.
Which is enough to have me join the crows in a long, depressed "aaaaaaaaarrrrk".
