If you've never heard the call of a male Victoria's riflebird, imagine a cross between a sulphur-crested cockatoo and ... well ... another sulphur-crested cockatoo, but shorter and louder.
Two male riflebirds frequent my garden. I can't tell the difference between them, so have given them the generic name of 'You Noisy Bastard'. It's not elegant, but it serves its purpose.
Either one — or both — of the birds takes great delight in landing on the gutter or on a tree just above my head and letting loose with that appalling call when I'm least expecting it. Or generally when I'm least expecting it. For once, I was a step ahead. I don't expect it will happen again.
