I photographed this little family of Pied Water-Tyrants some months ago, and have been meaning to write a piece on the supposedly onerous task of raising a family in these trying times. But apart from wondering if I’d been reading too much into my subject’s lives (I tend to do that a lot) – I figured I’d present it as it is, and leave any further discussion up to the discretion of the viewer. As any point I’d like to raise enters the realm of politics (politricks) – something I’d much rather avoid at this time.
We’ve seen young birds before, and know that they’re constantly on the lookout for the next meal. They are completely dependent on one or both parents at this stage, and are usually fed throughout the day.
What was interesting about this scene was that there was not a single young bird to be fed, but three. Once an adult bird returned with a morsel, all eyes were on the prize.
Both parents were tirelessly hunting, not for themselves, but for these little ones. How they’d remember which one needed feeding is beyond me. The act of feeding happened so quickly, perhaps within a second. Bird flies in, baby gobbles food and the hunt resumes.
It really was this last image that stuck with me, and was encouraging me to write something that dug a little deeper into the often denied sentient existence of these creatures. Something with the expression of the adult bird (on the right) that looks tired, frustrated almost. And I could imagine that it is telling me something. But I know that my imagination tends to run away. Not complaining though. Does it speak to you?