Just a short one today.
I was putting some rubbish into one of the bins thoughtfully dotted all around the caravan park, when I was hit on the back of the head by some small object. At first, I though it was a child’s game, and that I’d got caught in the middle. And then it happened again, and before I started to get annoyed, I realised that no child would be able to hit me in the head twice with such accuracy.
I looked up, and there was a chorus of giggles of the avian variety. The palm tree under which the bins had been placed was in fruit, and a flock of mostly Spangled Drongos (Dicrurus bracteatus) was taking full advantage of the plenty. They were tugging the fruit off the stems, and not always successfully hanging onto their prize.
If you look at this close up of the main photo, you can see that one of the birds at the top has lost control of his berry, and it’s in mid-air, destined to land on the lid of the metal bin with a resounding ‘tonk’.
Many birds have their own designated collective nouns. Drongos don’t, and I feel they really deserve one. They’re beautiful, elegant, bold, acrobatic and have a varied and versatile song (just scroll down to the end of the link I’ve given above, and play some of the sound clips). They’re glossy black with a velvety cape and a spangled breast, and a brilliantly scarlet eye. Their tail curves outwards to a forked fishtail end, which fans out when they fly or display. They can be taught to swoop and dive for meat scraps (their diet is mixed, including fruit, seeds, insects and small reptiles) and will become amazingly tame. Can you tell I really love these distinctive and elegant birds?
I think it’s time they had their own ‘flock’ word. So I’m giving them their own collective noun: A Somersault of Drongos.
What do you think?