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31.2.47 [margin]5[/margin]  We took a picnic tea to Yeodene. It was pouring
with rain on the drive out but eased as we boiled 
the billy until eventually the wind dropped and it was 
a moist calm evening. Even in the pouring rain
we had seen CRIMSON ROSELLAS at their usual place by
the road. When evening came birds all around us
broke into song. A pair of WHITE-CHEEKED HONEYEATERS
played from the twigs of a bush. Flying up into the
air and behaving exactly as do flycatchers or fantails.
The brilliant yellow wing-patch was the exact gold of
the wattle by which they were. BLUE WRENS were 
singing vigorously and though many "brown" kinds were 
seen â€“ only one bluey. YELLOW ROBINS were heard with 
their loud repetitive note gradually getting slower and weaker
as if they were running out of breath. MAGPIES too
were calling. Many other songs were heard - one 
perhaps that of the White-plumed honeyeater but the
majority I did not recognize. The evening was drawing 
in so that I could not search for and find the 
originator of the song but Yeodene enhanced its
reputation for birds. In only one respect did
it fall short â€“ Joan has still to hear her first Kookaburra!
9.9.47 [margin]7[/margin] This morning I was able to spend a few 
minutes in the morning by the Lake bank. There