It’s the week before the last week of school term 2, and yet I feel I’m only just settling into this year’s new routines.
I’m trying to walk everyday with my reluctant little dog, Viktor, and my neighbour’s oversized old gentleman, Smooch, the Hungarian vizsla. I include him on our walks because he’s such a glorious orange colour and often goes very well with my outfits. My wardrobe is very Autumnal.
I spotted a grey shrikethrush through my dirty studio window this week. I’ve been hearing them again lately. Their call is so evocative and pulls me back to somewhere that I haven’t quite figured out. It might be the memory of my two years in the bush, in a place called Basalt, outside of Daylesford, where my husband and I lived just after we got married.
It was my first experience of being in the Australian bush and the noises and smells were so different to my experience of Australia (mostly just Melbourne) up to that point and a stark contrast to the two years spent back in Northern Ireland before our wedding.
For me, the shrikethrush sings the song of adventure and new places. Perhaps they heralded me choosing a life in Australia. Maybe their song signalled the start of what my art practice has now become: my love of this area and how I’m always trying to recreate the sense of it in my work.
I included the grey shrikethrush in my book The Bush Birds. The photo that inspired the illustration was of a visitor to our garden during the lockdowns of 2021, who nested under the eaves of our house, although I never quite figured out where! She was a very welcome lodger during those unusual times. 
A big thank you to everyone who replied to last week’s email telling me of some good double-barred finch hangouts. I now have an adventure planned with my friend Jane for September. However we’re claiming to be searching for DIAMOND FIRETAILS because we never find our target bird on our trips and I really want to see the double-barred delights!
