Early April and the paperbarks are flowering by the eastern edge of the lake, all light lemon yellow and inviting for the European honeybees. In there too are the introduced lorikeets squwarking and chirping, as I hear them even now inside my room, but much more so underneath the large tree by the lake’s edge. And then comes jakalak the red wattlebird, the soldier of birds around here—I don’t think I’ve ever seen it back down. But this day, this one lorikeet—all shrill and defensive over its paperbark flowers—shrieks and cries enough for jakalak to slowly walk backwards off the branch, until there’s nothing but air below his feet, and the wings spring into action again.