Common Iora

One female sub-adult Common Iora undeniably already a beauty.

Common Iora

 Suppose I had let you go.  Suppose I didn't even try for a click.

What would I have missed. Perhaps nothing, perhaps something.  Perhaps I should move your beauty from my eyes to my heart.

The Common Iora, a common garden bird, by common understanding.

Iora

Never say No even to the common for it's not ever frequent for one to fly in right before you, with prey in mouth, no doubt perched a little higher, a little blocked than had hoped for.

It's a female Common Iora that would have stayed to finish off its meal (despite spotting me) except for an oncoming motorcyclist that spooked it despite it being in the upper canopy.

Birds, after all

 It's a bird's world, and  a long shot (figuratively and metaphorically) for the human being to try and comprehend avian tiffs and discord.

Perhaps the cause of the racket.

 Considered the culprit as it was finally shrieked at and screeched off.

And the motley flock that ganged up at the target dispersed immediately after.

Then another display, that began as fast as it ended, with me none the wiser, or even able to hazard the slightest guess.

And the plot thickened with the appearance of this strangely patterned Javan Myna, with a rare perch besides a Common Myna.

Amidst it all was a Spotted Dove absorbed in its own world, fluffing and easing down throughout the entire cacophony.

Viva the avian world!

Iora's display

 What's natural for one, achievement for another.

But it's simply all in a morning's work for the Common Iora.

A sensitivity, that it was not alone!

Didn't think it pause to appreciate the flowers!

Hardly the two foraged together, usually one following the other, the male on another tree.

Iora brood, Part II/II

 And finally, sightings of the chicks, and more, with these chicks easily more than ten days old now.

A normal feeding of a grub for one chick.

And then the parent didn't fly off immediately but waited.

And it happened, a parent's instinct I guessed, of its chick's habit and timing of output after a meal, neatly nipped for disposal.

A rather awkward landing but no matter, welcomed for it's come with food.

And when the food was a small catch of a beetle, feeding is simple, straight into the throat.

But if the catch is a long one and not positioned well for entry, then it's a loss for one but a gain for another.

And the usual housekeeping thereafter.

Another feed and the parent did not leave immediately, which was fortunate as I soon discovered why ....

... for this one had leaned out of the nest, its head drooping down for a snooze.

And the protective parent wisely decided to wait out its snooze for a few seconds before the chick retreated into the nest again.

And sad to say these were the last images of the brood and its parent for a few days later, the nest was completely empty and no fledglings in sight or within earshot.  Could they have fledged successfully or fallen prey to another or to the daily thunderous and torrential weather?

Having trawled the taman to no avail, I maintain hope that perhaps I could still come across a set of parent and juvenile foraging, for if they're still around in the taman, they would surely be spotted and/or heard.