Louis the Tui: The tale of an infatuated noisy New Zealand bird

This is Louis the Tui.

He followed me all over my parents’ property in rural Taranaki (Naki), New Zealand last Xmas, singing, grunting, wheezing, coughing and popping like a mechanical toy (Tui’s have a very active and noisy vocal range!).

At one stage he even landed on the grass near to where I was sitting which is the first time I’ve ever seen a Tui on the ground.

My parents were convinced that Louis was threatened by my Nikon camera and large zoom lens possibly thinking it was another Tui invading his space. I like to think he was in love with me and couldn’t bear to let me out of his sight. Unfortunately we’ll never know the truth …

 I followed Louis back and forth across the property for two weeks trying to get the best photograph. He would constantly dive bomb me whenever he thought I wasn’t looking – his wings making a noisy whirring sound as he flew past me – and would then sing his heart out from the top of the tree as though mocking my earth-bound limitations,

Most mornings I’d head out early for a surf at the beach just down from Mum and Dad’s place. On my return, as I hung my wetsuit on the line around the back of the house, Louis would come whirring around the corner and dive bomb the clothes line.  “For god’s sake, Louis,” I’d shout at him. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He’d just grunt and wheeze and pop away.

 Tuis are quite boisterous birds. They are very vocal and although look black from a distant, they have a beautiful blue and green colouring and distinctive white balls of feathers hanging from their throats. I had no idea they were so irridescent underneath their wings and tail until I took the above shot of Louis flying over the roof of our house. He really is quite spectacular.

 Tuis are abundant in New Zealand and they can be heard singing away in both urban and rural areas. Whenever I hear their beautiful almost comical song, I feel like they are trying to call me home. Perhaps Louis was just trying to stop me from leaving. Whatever the case, he’s still singing and popping and grunting in the Cabbage Tree above the driveway so no doubt we’ll start our wee dance all over again next time I return to the Naki.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.