Today I’m at the lake jetty,
out of the wind.

Manatj the white corella
is in the fig tree
further to the east.
He is making noise—
one cocophanous choir.

At one point, 
their shrieks and cries
rise a level of fear,
of apprehension,
of caution.
And then I see it—
a sleek raptor, no bigger than manatj,
gliding into the upper branches.
He is darker than a kestrel,
likely a hobby.
Manatj doesn’t leave,
but sings his fearful song.

I wonder what he’s afraid of—
being of the same size as the raptor.
And then I realise
I don’t think I’ve ever seen 
a baby manatj
or manatj nest.