The Snow White of Berwick

I call my mum the Snow White of Berwick. Her balcony is the stage for an orchestra of birds. She has a butcherbird friend named Harriet, an ever-growing club of cockatoos that cause a ruckus out on her hills hoist, and a family of magpies that have visited her daily for many years, bringing their young into the safe fold of her front porch.

In springtime, when there are little ones to protect, swooping season gets into full swing. While her neighbours put spikes in their helmets and eyes on the back of their hats, mum talks to the birds. “They remember!” she tells me.

And she’s right. Bird brains, despite popular belief, are as intelligent as that of dolphins and apes. They have languages, recognise faces, use tools for problem-solving, grieve, forward plan, count, imitate, show empathy, and cooperate with one another, helping to raise young, defend nests and find food. We can learn so much from these wonderfully clever team players, and it starts with a simple “hello Maggie!”