Birds nest in my hair

So there I was, walking through the bush to the east of Melbourne, and I was suddenly accosted by a very assertive parrot, who insisted upon investigating the suitability of my head as a nest. I think I need a haircut. 

That’s not really what happened. My friend Mica, her friend [L-mumble-something] and I got up really early this morning and drove out to Ferntree Gully. Or the Dandenong Hills. Or something like that. It was far. Anyway, parrots live there. The ecosystem as changed so much that tourists are bussed in daily to throw seed for the birds. Locals (like us – ahem!) do it too, to help the tourists.

That one picture doesn’t begin to describe the feathered carnage that happened as we showed up with food. At one point, I had five birds sitting on various parts of my body (yes, I remained fully clothed). They fly around all the time, chase each other away from the outstretched-human-hand-of-food, and make a terrible racket.

Then two busloads of tourists showed up, so we left the birds and ate freshly baked scones with cream and jam.