Walk a place often enough and you get a sense of birds—where they like to nest, preen and forage. The sounds they make. How they interact with each other. The way a woodland patch or stretch of river shifts with their presence like a breath under cover. At some point it was not enough to look. I looked up their names: Pacific black duck, little pied cormorant, chestnut teal, white-faced heron, red wattlebird, New Holland honeyeater, willy wagtail. There is a vocabulary involved in connecting with nature.

Yet many people spend time outdoors without necessarily becoming acquainted with it. At least that is what I gather from my walks. Someone would stop because I have stopped, and in conversation I mention the name of the duck or parrot we are admiring. Their face breaks open as if I had just told them a secret. A child leading a child, really. We are all toddlers here.