A mixture of cool, clear nights and warmer days can be expected as the rainy season ends along Western

Australia's south coast.

The Noongar season of conception, djilba, is signified by the blooming of wild flowers.
"It's really beautiful to see our golden wattles out and about. Also our kangaroo paw is another good indicator," said Menang Noongar man,
Larry Blight speaking to Andrew Collins on ABC Great Southern Breakfast.
Makuru, the wettest season, has fuelled changes in the natural environment, kicking off the transitional season.
"We're starting to get out of the really wet, cold, oppressive weather. Things are starting to come to life again. And I love it, I think it's just a
great time," said Mr Blight.

Don't pack away the winter woollies

But don't pack away the winter wardrobe too quickly.
"Djilba is actually the coldest time of the year. We've had some very cold days," said Mr Blight.
"We're starting to get a lot more clear days and nights. We're not getting as much cloud around and so you're starting to get colder nights, but it
is gradually warming up in the day."
With blistery winds calming down, djilba was the traditional time for Noongar people to journey to the coast in anticipation of warmer weather.
The season of conception, local birds are preparing for new arrivals.
"There are lots of male emus sitting on their eggs at the moment," said Mr Blight.
"Emu eggs were collected and a few emus were hunted. The same thing for the marlee,the swan, they're on their eggs at the moment too.
"Towards the end of djilba, when the baby swans are out on the water, then you can start to see things like boronia in flower as well. So these
things all tie in," he said.
Despite the start of djilba, Mr Blight thinks signs of makuru could persist into the new season.
"I think we're still going to have a bit more rain to come. We've had a bit, but I'm not satisfied yet."

Magpies protecting their brood

With a new season, new parents are beginning to fret. The koolbardi, or magpie, will soon swoop potential threats.
"The males will start being a bit protective as their eggs are hatching, so people will need to be wary," said Mr Blight, who has never been a
target himself.
"Maybe they pick up on vibes. If you're going into something a little bit uneasy, perhaps they can pick up on it.
"But we've always fed ours, and I think we've always looked upon our birds as a wise man, so we treat them like an elder.
"We give them respect and they give that that little bit back to us."
Mr Blight's advises others to play it safe.
"Start feeding them some mince and they'll love you," he said.

For tens of thousands of years the Noongar people of southwest Australia lived alongside nature and passed down stories about the creatures
that shared their world.
Birds figured prominently in traditional Noongar lore and the birds' characteristics that inspired these tales can still be seen and appreciated
today.
These stories are important because they are not imports from Europe, America or Asia, but stories that originated right here in WA and have a
rightful place in our heritage.

Black swans were once white as snow until they became too vain. Photo: Allen Newton
Here are a few I have discovered in my research.
Why the crow is black
In Noongar culture the crow is an important bird. Aboriginal people protect and control their environment by adopting plant and animal totems
or "kobongs" which they regard as spiritual siblings and take responsibility for. These are inherited, awarded or simply chosen and many
Aboriginal people have up to a dozen but amongst the Noongar a full half of the people are "crow people".

Wagtails attack bigger birds because of a Dreamtime grudge. Photo: Allen Newton
In the past, the Noongar had two great family groups the crows (Wardong) and the white cockatoos (Mandich) and for a crow to marry a
crow or a cockatoo to marry a cockatoo was regarded as incest and severely punished. They saw the crow and cockatoo as "yin and yang",
each complementing and balancing the other's characters. Nobody killed a crow or a white cockatoo.
Crows also had an important role in Noongar religion. Aboriginal people believed the birds helped to carry the spirits of the dead across the
western sea to the afterlife at Kurannup, an idyllic place over the horizon beyond Rottnest and Garden islands. The rocky coast just south
of Cottesloe Beach, called Mudurup, was sacred to the crow spirit and regarded as the place where the spirits left the land for their final journey
to paradise.
On a lighter note, Noongar stories tell how the crow, like all birds, was once snow white until it accidentally lit a big bushfire. The crow, the
seagull and the magpie raced for the shelter of a cave, with the gull getting there first, the magpie second and the crow, last. As a result the gull
was unscathed and kept its pure colour, the magpie was burnt in patches, and the crow was burnt black all over.
Chitty Chitty's revenge
Known to the Noongar Aboriginal people as Chitty Chitty, because of its trademark
The tawny frogmouth brought doom to those
chatter (the town of Chittering is named after the bird), the perky and
who heard its call. Photo: Lloyd Jones

active wagtail was said to be a gossip and was driven away from important tribal meetings.
Children were told not to chase wagtails because they'd be led into the bush and lost forever.
The Noongar also tell a charming story about how, in the Dreaming, the wagtail
was a great hunter who was one day robbed of his catch by Wardong the crow and
The wedge-tailed eagle was tricked by the
Dwerda the dingo.
splendid wren. Photo: Spencer Ford
They say that the wagtail never forgot this crime, which is why it still angrily attacks
crows and dogs much bigger than itself.
Coolbardie's day in the sun
According the Noongar Dreaming, the sky was once so close to the ground that
trees could not grow, people had to crawl and all the birds were forced to walk
The swamp hen dyed the black cockatoo's tail
everywhere.
red.Photo: Peter Hancock
Working together they managed to prop up the sky with sticks, but it threatened to
break the sticks and collapse to earth again with potentially disastrous consequences.
The clever magpies, however, took a long stick in their beaks and pushed it up and up until the sky suddenly sprang upwards by itself,
revealing the sun and creating the first sunrise.
Coolbardie the magpie's boastful singing each morning is to remind everybody of
its important role in creation.
The splendid wren stole its blue colour from the
Proud Maali's fall
sky.Photo: Carolyn Turnbull
The Noongar name for the black swan is Maali, and its colour also features in one
of their Dreaming stories.
Back then, they say, swans were white with grey beaks until they made the mistake
of boasting about how beautiful they were in front of the wedge-tailed eagles,
Carnaby's cockatoos 'evolved' into red-tailed
who punished their pride by pulling out their feathers and leaving them to die in the
black cockatoos. Photo: Kirri Hardy
desert.
The crows found the plucked birds and took pity on them, covering the swans with their own black feathers so that the eagles could no longer
recognise and attack them.
But the swan still has a few white feathers left at the end of its wings to remind it of what it once looked like, and its beak has been forever
stained red from the bloody attack by the eagles.
The bringer of happiness
The joyous cry of the twenty-eight parrot and its cheeky tail wagging meant that it was always welcomed as a bringer of happiness by the
Noongar people, who called the bird Darlmoorluk.
It was said that when Darlmoorluk was around, the camp was safe from evil spirits that roamed the bush.
Although twenty-eights were good to eat, the Noongar only hunted them in desperate times.
Sibling rivalry
In the Dreaming, they say, Bulland the egret and Booladarlung the pelican were brothers and looked the same. One day they came upon
a wide lake and each took up a position at either end to try fishing.
There were lots of fish at the pelican's end, but he was greedy and every time his brother the egret came to ask if he was catching any fish, he
stuffed his catch into his mouth and shook his head, so the egret went away to subsist on the few small fish at his end.
After a while the pelican's antics saw him grow fat and his beak became stretched by the fish he hid in it, while the egret got thinner and thinner.
Then a hungry dingo came to the lake and attacked the pelican, who was so fat that he couldn't fly away and took a mauling from the dingo
before his brother, the egret, came to his rescue by pecking the dingo around the head until it went away.
Ever since then, when you see a pelican take off you can see the ragged feathers which were torn by the dingo a permanent reminder to
share what you have with those less fortunate.
Saviour of the spirit children
To the Noongar seabirds play an important spiritual role that dates back to the end of the Ice Age.
Noongar tradition tells of the time before the sea levels rose, some 7500 years ago, when Rottnest and Garden islands were coastal hills.
The Noongar believed that the spirits of unborn children waited for their mothers in special places such as lakes and outcrops so, as the seas
rose, these "spirit children" were cut off from any chance of finding a mother and being born into the real world.
Seabirds - particularly Djenark, the silver gull - maintain the spiritual link between Noongar country and the spirits trapped on the islands
and beneath the sea, by flying between the coast and the islands.
When a gull is seen washing its beak in the river's fresh water it is said to be releasing the spirits it has gathered at sea back into the landscape
so that they can at last find a mother and fulfil their destinies as human beings.
Harbinger of doom
When the Noongar people heard the deep eerie call of the dreaded Gubulgari after dark they knew that somebody among them was about to
die.
The magical birds could turn into wood and talk to the spirits of the night, and the only way to counter their curse was to either kill and burn
them or drive them away from the camp with smoke and incantations.
Today this harbinger of doom is known as the tawny frogmouth.
Red badge of courage
The Noongar say that in the Dreaming Chitty-Chitty the wagtail and Karlimoot the scarlet robin were fighting over hunting rights.
Chitty-Chitty was always getting into fights and fearlessly attacked Karlimoot, hitting the robin in the face and making his beak bleed, forever
staining his chest red.
As a result, the wagtail still chases robins from its territory and monopolises the better hunting grounds.
Dreamtime sky blue
In the Dreaming, says Noongar tradition, when the birds were competing for their colours, the most difficult colour to obtain was blue, which
was kept in the sky.
They realised that only the highest-flying bird would be able to snatch some of the sky's blue, so all the birds flew as high as they could until

one by one they fell away, leaving only the eagle to soar above them all.
Warlitje the eagle was elated and was just about to claim his prize when Chiriger, the little grey wren, who had hidden among the feathers on
the eagle's back, suddenly fluttered up that little bit higher and in a flash stole the blue, becoming the beautiful splendid wren.
The eagle was so angry at being condemned to be dull brown that he swore to attack and kill Chiriger if he ever again flew higher than the low
scrub, which is why splendid wrens stay close to the ground to this very day.
Welcome visitor
The Noongar welcomed the appearance of Kannamit the welcome swallow as a sign that rain was coming.
Nol-yang's battle scars
According to Aboriginal folklore, Nol-yang the dusky moorhen's red and yellow beak and legs are the scars from a feud with Waitch the
emu.
The story goes that the two birds' nests were very close to one another, and when the moorhen left her eggs for a few minutes to get something
to eat, the emu shifted her nest so that she covered both her eggs and the moorhen's.
The moorhen wanted to shift the egg thief, but she was too small to attack the emu directly, so she built a big fire and threw the ashes on her,
burning the emu's feathers brown.
The emu then sprang up in anger and hurled the moorhen into the flames, scorching her legs and beak so that to this day they are the angry
red and yellow of fresh burns.
Tail of two cockies
Noongars believed that Karrak the red-tailed black cockatoo acquired its red tail markings on the tail from Ngo-lak the white tailed carnaby's
cockatoo.
Tradition says that Ngo-lak was trying to defend a dingo which was attacking Chitty Chitty the willy wagtail.
Mulal the swamp hen was feeding at the time on a sedge, the roots of which ooze red sap, and he cut a reed and struck Ngo-lak across his
back.
When Ngo-lak spread his tail to defend his back, Mulal threw lumps of red sap at his tail.
Ngo-lak became so hoarse from screaming that he could only vocalize "karrak" instead of the carnabys' call of "wola" and turned into Karrak,
the red-tailed black cockatoo.

the tuneful songs of the Australian magpie are commonly heard around Australia. These songs are complex and can range over four octaves.
Magpies begin to produce sounds soon after they are born and the complexity of their songs develops as they grow. Both male and female
birds sing.
Individual magpies share some of their song syllables with members of their social group and these are learned through
imitation. They also share song syllables with other magpies in their local area and from further afield. However, a high
proportion of the syllables they sing are unique. These unique syllables are developed through experimentation and
improvisation. Magpies continue to expand their repertoire after they leave their natal territory and share song or imitate
magpies in flocks and social groups they join.
Magpies may make brief alarm or distress calls, with specific calls for specific dangers, but they are most recognised for their
warbling and carolling. Additionally, magpies sometimes mimic other birds and noises such as the barking of dogs.

Warbling
Warbling is the soft and melodious singing of magpies. It is a common and delightful sound heard throughout the day and
sometimes at night. Some warbling seems to have no specific purpose and may well be a 'recreational' activity. Warbling is
often conducted by lone magpies. It can also be exchanged between magpies while they are roosting, preening, foraging or
building nests. These exchanges are used to determine the location of group members and may also identify them. Warbling
is also known as 'subsong' and it sometimes proceeds bouts of carolling, both within groups and between them.

Carolling
Carolling is conducted by groups, with one bird leading and others joining in. It is often heard as a dawn chorus. Magpies also
carol within and between groups at territorial boundaries, when they regroup, or while they are chasing birds that have
intruded into their territory. Carolling can be very loud; magpies have been recorded singing at well over 100 decibels.

Other communication
Magpies sing to communicate, but they communicate in other ways, too. Pecking, or a threat to peck, is used to reinforce
hierarchical relationships. Further, they take cues from other magpies' postures, feather positioning (e.g. 'fluffing' of the
feathers), displays of flight and actions that produce sounds, such as beak-clapping and wing-flapping. They will use a variety
of these actions, in combination with their song, to communicate within their group and with other magpies. They are
particularly animated when meeting neighbouring magpie groups at territorial boundaries or when dealing with intruders into
their own territories. They can also use these signals when interacting with other species, including people. For example, a

swooping magpie will sometimes clap its beak.

Further information about magpie song is contained in the chapters, 'The sound of Australia: magpie calls and songs' and
'Wolf whistles and wacky welcomes: magpies' amazing mimicry'.