Yesterday a royal spoonbill turned up again, in the shallow waters of the bay outside my window. What a magnificent visitation!
Where has it been all winter?
Is it my favourite NZ bird of the year? or should I vote for the faithful fantail, who never went away, and has provided such joy with its aerobatics and daring dive-bombing, not to mention its welcome loving messages from "the other side"?
Or the exquisite little silvereye - the flying fish with its startled white banded face-makeup and its remarkable ability to pack away large quantities of porridge?
Those marvellous lumbering whooshing jumbo jet kereru (wood pigeons), are also among my favourite birds.
And the delicate shy pied stilt who prefers to take little runs rather than just walking anywhere. When the stilts come to feed at dusk on an ebbing tide, close to the edge of the bay, it's a riveting sight. They look as though their silhouettes have been cut out, accidentally, too thinly. How has such a fragile creature survived? I've stayed watching them until they are just shadows, until they have disappeared into the greyness of the night water.
Can't decide. Love 'em all. And no sign of the godwits yet.
According to the famous mathematical thought experiment, Schroedinger's cat is neither dead nor alive. So it's a cool concept if you don't like being locked into binaries. Not so good if you don't like being locked into a lethal booby-trapped box. And from the cat's point of view, there is no ambiguity at all.