Young David was a casual birder back then. Under the tutelage of his fine wife Goldie he has since come on in leaps and bounds. Knows a warbler or two now. He was also a rugged driller back then. He would drill boreholes for water in Malawi, Mocambique and other beautiful Southern African places, boring holes deep into the earth searching for the nectar of life.
His drilling company’s motto was “On The Hole Our Work Is Boring”.
One fine day in Mocambique he got caught short and had to pull over on the way to a drilling site for an emergency evacuation in a lovely patch of forest. He would have noisily scratched a nest (Dave is not a tiptoe-er) and got rid of his voluminous shorts so as not to cause any stains, and settled himself comfortably for the job at hand, probably with some grunting and sighing.
Suddenly, this beauty hopped into view in a patch of sunlight in the gloomy forest interior and gazed in fascination at the amazing and unusual sight squatting in the clearing. Maybe it thought the moon had risen with a weavers nest hanging below it? We’ll never know…
It was a bloody Pitta! Many serious birders search for these things for decades, spending time and money and only getting heartache. Hill saw one while having a ‘veldie’.
Talk about unfair. This is birding a la (com)mode. Mind you, I often say “Don’t chase them. Sit and they’ll come to you.” But this . . !
~o0o~