After not having seen birin birin the rainbow bee eater for my first forty-four years, I’ve suddenly seen them in three places in the space of three weeks. But isn’t that the way with things? First we might hear a story, and in so doing develop some kind of organ for potentially seeing, then one day we see something, and our rudimentary organ must then fit and adapt to what is being seen—we now have a more developed birin-birin sense organ—somethign to see the orange head and green chest and other rainbow colours of balanced triangular wings and longer beak ready to catch bees and other insects, forming themselves into somewhat swarming groups, not unlike the bees they seek, making a stange kind of cricket or cicada-type chirp. First at Kartagarrup Kings Park, then at a pool on Bilya Madjit the Murray River near Dwellingup, and then again today near Perry Lakes—all of it Bunaru second summer before, I’m told, they’ll head north once more. Birin birin organs forming. And one cannot help but wonder what other unformed organs lie in waiting—what other things are we not seeing, humanity?