Zanda funerea

So much to say, so little space (and time). I am excited to write that the Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo chick, that we've been following since early January, fledged late in the afternoon on the 4th of May (I'm even more excited that both @TomT and I were each able to video the event!). Over 12 days and hours and hours of observing, we watched him slowly develop confidence, after he first tentatively eyed the world from the safety of his hollow (sighting 4726761). Each day we'd see a bit more of him, as he edged his way higher into the mouth of the hollow. The parents (and usually sibling), would visit twice a day to feed him. In the final couple of days before fledging, his parents (particularly dad) spent 1-2 hours/day fussing over him, grooming and feeding, while Mum spent her time doing the same with the sibling. Three - four days prior to leaving the hollow, the chick began chewing at his feet and nails (a sign of imminent fledging). From three days before fledging, the chick practiced flapping his wings inside the hollow. Then, the day before fledging, he was confident enough to practice flapping outside the hollow, gripping onto the lip of the hollow as he swiftly opened and closed his large wings (2nd photo). On the afternoon of fledging, the family visited and dried themselves off after a deluge of rain (4th photo). We wondered if they'd return that day. As dusk began descending, three SCCs visited the tree, checking out the chick (5th photo). Two minutes later, the family of YTBCs flew to a tree directly above us (20-30m from the hollow). This was unusual. They were mostly quiet, but the chick called plaintively - in an adult voice. We each quickly turned our cameras to video. The chick leaned his body out of the hollow, then slightly back, eager but wary, when suddenly, he launched. We watched as he flapped in ungainly flight, then smoothed himself into the glide of the YTBCs. His family followed, calling, their calls becoming fainter - then, to our amazement, growing louder again. I assume the adults had taken over, and were now leading him back to their roost. We watched, awed, as the family of, now, four, arced gracefully past us in the darkening sky. Job done.