His notes don’t vary much from day to day
And flute like are the little tunes he play.
With streaked grey breast and upper parts light green
In forest foliage not quite easily seen
But the song tell of where the bird might be
Perhaps on outer branch of higher tree.
I see them in the wood on Selby hill
The female carried lichen in her bill
Material for her nest it would appear
On slender outer branch and somewhere near.
They migrate through Australia up and down
And their eggs cream coloured spotted lightish brown
And they journey north when southern winds blow cold
And they eat fruit and large insects I’ve been told.
They come to Selby wood in latter Spring
And all through the day you hear them lilt and sing
And in their cup shaped nest on outer branch of tree
They lay their eggs and raise their family.