All was revealed a few days later when the farmer observed this pair performing their courtship display!  The male would make short flights around the female, bowing as he alighted next to her, puffing out his head feathers, with partly spread wings, and chattering continually while he rushed to and fro on his perch.  The female, in a crouched position, responded with puffed out head feathers, partly spread wings, and uttering soft begging calls. The male would then respond by feeding her.

The following year, the same farmer phoned again to say that another pair of Superbs were coming and going, from a different tree hollow in an adjoining field – what luck! The height of this hollow was slightly lower, and the deep nesting chamber was just visible with the aid of a powerful torch. I could clearly see the female’s tail as she sat incubating her eggs. This was a more satisfactory result than the previous year, and so the tower was erected in stages again, but photographic sessions were delayed until the eggs had hatched.

During the incubation period the male would call the female out of the nest chamber and feed her in a nearby tree – this practice was carried on until the chicks were advanced enough for the female to forage for herself. With the parents now feeding their young, visits to the nest were more predictable – every 60-90 minutes – allowing for some good photographic opportunities.

About 15 to 20 years ago, the decreasing numbers of Superb parrots in the wild became quite alarming, but fortunately this trend has turned around over recent times within their relatively small range, where they are now considered to be locally plentiful.  In general, though, they’re still listed as vulnerable.

In pre-European times, the Superb parrot had a much wider range, occurring throughout the vast area of open woodland in eastern Australia. It was reported to be common on the Goulburn plain in Gould’s time, where birds were captured and brought down to Sydney by draymen to sell as cage-birds.  Although the docile nature of wild-caught birds had made them a lucrative target for illegal bird trappers, the decline of the species had probably been brought about by human alteration of its habitat – land clearing for both farming and grazing. The resulting removal of old trees was also a threat to their survival.

Following the breeding season, Superb parrots congregate in small groups, foraging for seeds on the ground, feeding on eucalypt blossoms and visiting home gardens to feed on fruits, leaf buds and the seeds of acacia trees. During early summer, flocks frequently visit farmland to feed on crops such as wheat, oats and canola, particularly when the grain is still green and milky. It doesn’t get much better than to witness a flock of Superbs rising above a sea of golden canola blooms.

Like many other parrots, they are attracted to country roads and highways during the summer months to forage on grain spilled from passing trucks as it’s transported to silos.  Unfortunately, this attraction results in many road kills – more than once I’ve had to pull over to ‘dispatch’ an injured bird, but on some occasions a less seriously injured bird can be transported to a veterinarian clinic for first aid and release.

In the wild, the Superb parrot is quite vocal, with a long, abruptly-ending warble given in flight, and a softer twittering when resting or feeding. This is in contrast to captive birds which are relatively quiet.  Most of the calls have a growling tendency, or throaty quality, that is very distinctive of the species.

The beautiful plumage and long, slender body of the Superb parrot, in combination with its tame and endearing nature, has made this species popular with aviculturists since the 19th century. Its long association with humans may be responsible for the wide variety of names by which it is known, such as Green Leek, Barraband Parrot, Scarlet-breasted Parrot, Green Parrot, Green Leek parakeet or simply Greeny.

I never tire of observing small flocks of Superb parrots flying over my garden – their sleek, streamlined bodies with long, pointed tails and narrow, backward-swept wings giving them their characteristic and elegant appearance.

John Cooper has been an amateur naturalist for as long as he can remember, but it wasn’t until the age of 46 that he decided to record his subjects on film.  He soon developed a passion for serious wildlife photography and was named the ANZANG Nature & Landscape Photographer of the Year – 2004 – in the section “Threatened and Endangered Animals or Plants”.  In 1999 John took an early retirement from his profession in medical pathology to pursue his interest in natural history photography.  When not out in the field, he is in the office writing articles for magazines and journals.