While processing some pics at home today (March 19), I looked outside the window and noticed a couple of Golden-bellied Flyeaters singing noisily in a tree at my backyard. I didn't mind them at first, as these birds are regular visitors to my garden. But they just won't stop singing, and flitting around the branches of the small tree. My curiosity got the better of me, so I mounted the 100-400 L IS on the 1DM2, went outside and checked out what's exciting the birds.

Wow..... they're guarding an immature flyeater which looks like it just left the nest. And several meters away, a Brown Shrike was perched on the branch of another tree, maliciously eyeing the immature flyeater. I immediately went back inside the house and set up my Sigmonster + 20D, then put my DG Super flash on the 1DM2 + 100-400 L IS. If some action would develop, I was ready with my short pistol (100-400) and long rifle (Sigmonster).

I took close-up pics of the immature with the hand held 1DM2 + 100-400 right away. After getting my fill of shots, I settled back on a chair about 25 feet from the young bird and waited for the parents to present a photo opportunity, my 20D + Sigmonster at the ready. Sure enough, these normally shy birds fluttered around their offspring, allowing me my most detailed pics todate of this species.

It was in the middle of my photographing the parents when the shrike made its move and attacked the young bird. By instinct, I got up my chair and chased the shrike away. The immature survived the attack but was a bit bloodied around the neck/head area. Then I sat down and started to ponder on what transpired and my unfolding dilemma - will I yield to my pity on the young bird and interfere with the natural flow of things?

I was certain that the shrike would come back, unable to resist an easy meal. But I decided to let nature take its course. That the flyeater is a common bird whose numbers are in no way threatened helped ease the agony in my mind. I suspect that the immature was not the only one which left the nest, and the shrike had earlier preyed on its siblings. Out of respect for the young bird, I didn't take pics anymore of its injured form. I packed up my camera gear, went inside the house and closed the windows overlooking my backyard.

For some minutes, the muted chirping of the young flyeater and the non-stop wheezy song of its parents pierced through my windowglass. Then the chirping stopped, and only the rising and falling notes of the adult flyeaters were audible.

Did the immature survive? I didn't go out to check and I don't want to know. Sometimes, nature works in ways that we humans can't understand....