Tick-Tick Joop Joop Click-Clack

I haven't started this week's post with a quote because the title is, in fact, a quote. I assume you're wondering what that means and what sort of crazy person would say such a thing so you mightn't be surprised to learn that it was not a human who uttered this nonsense. It was, in fact, a bird. And in Birdish it's quite a profound statement. It means "wake up. I am the [king/queen] of the tree and I command you to wake up. It's a beeeeauuutiful day and you're about to miss it, lazy bones." Or words to that effect.

And how do I know this? Well, I've been living with it on and off for the past 18 months. Let me introduce you to Mrs Clack (formerly, but not affectionately, known as The Clack-Clack Bird until we discovered her with a youngster and realised she was probably female, not, as we had previously thought, male). Mrs Clack is very fond of the tree outside my bedroom window and is fast becoming the bane of my life. At around 5.15am most mornings (the precise time changes according to the time of year because obviously birds go by the amount of daylight rather than the actual time but suffice to say there isn't very much daylight when Mrs Clack starts), Mrs Clack makes herself comfortable in the tree and then begins her call.

Tick-Tick Joop Joop Click-Clack.

The tick-tick bit is a little like the sound of dice rattling in someone's hand. Or, remember those percussion instruments we used to play at school which were marrow-shaped and hollow with corrugated wood on the outside and a stick you'd use to stroke it with? Kind of like that. A rapid sound. That's the warning that she's about to start.

The Joop Joop bit is fairly self-explanatory and nearly always precedes the Click-Clack and sometimes appears on its own. The Click-Clack sound is like the most horrendous squawking sound, more like a screetch really. Like Creek-CRAAAWK. Like fingernails down a black-board.

Mrs Clack doesn't seem to like incredibly wet, ridiculously windy or terribly hot weather. I seem to recall that she doesn't think much of particularly cold weather either. So around this time of year she reappears from wherever she's been over the summer and reclaims her position in my tree. And then clacks. Loudly. At 5.15am. Every morning. I am very tired.

On Sunday morning I was determined to lie in and catch up on some much needed sleep so I went outside and shook her tree. She got quite a shock and flew away. I smugly went back to bed but within minutes she was back, clacking away. I went out and tried to shake the tree again but this time she was ready for me. Knowing quite well that she was perfectly camouflaged she stayed very still and quiet, pretending that she wasn't there. Of course I knew that she was because I'd heard her, and certainly hadn't seen her fly away but try as I might, I couldn't get her to budge. Within minutes of me retiring to my bed she was clacking away again. I resorted to ear plugs, shutting the window and putting the fan on.

I'm still a bit tired but I'm starting to get used to her and I'm resigned to the fact that I have to wake up at 5.15 every morning. This is fine so long as I go to bed at 9.30pm. The problem I have with Mrs Clack is her inconsistency. She clacks you for months and then nothing. Peace and quiet. This goes on for months and then you get used to it and before you know it she's back. This morning I awoke at exactly 5.15am - before Mrs Clack. It was overcast, you see, so she got confused by the time. But she's got me into waking up at that time now and this will be my life for the next few months until I either figure out how to get rid of her or the weather turns too cold and she decides she'd like a cosier tree to clack in.

Kookaburras: cartoony
with funny dreams.

People living elsewhere in Australia are awoken by kookaburras. This usually happens in places known as The Bush, which actually means The Countryside. Kookaburras are very jolly birds. They look like cartoons of themselves and they have very funny dreams that means they wake up laughing. "Koo-koo-koo-hahahahahaha". They're noisy but they've never bothered me when I have heard them. It's a nice sound to lie in bed to. Unfortunately we don't have very many kookaburras where we live. We have lots of clack-clack birds though and they position themselves in various trees around the neighbourhood. Sometimes another bird wakes up before Mrs Clack and you can hear it somewhere in the distance. This can be beneficial as it can give you a chance to don ear-plugs, shut the window and put on the fan (such is becoming my morning ritual) before she gets started and wakes you up good and proper.

I'm not sure what kind of bird Mrs Clack is - I rarely see her and birds are hard to identify by their call alone - but someone once suggested a little friarbird and whilst this isn't her as she's much prettier, it's the nearest thing I've found so far to her call. Check it out and see how you'd like to listen to this constantly for about 15 minutes (feels more like 60!) every morning - and then multiply it by 100 because Mrs Clack sounds much worse: Little Friarbird call.

Tomorrow morning I will attempt to go outside and record Mrs Clack's call so that I can put a link to it in my next post and share it with you all. Watch this space!