Clearly spring is in the air. At first we thought these magpies were having a fight, but after about 15 minutes of passionate pecking, caressing and tail fanning it became apparent these two shameless birds were thoroughly enjoying themselves in a clearing between our camellias.

FORGETTING the unmitigated lust for a minute, magpies are beautiful birds, aren’t they?

I particularly love listening to them chortling away happily on a wet day as they scavenge for grubs and worms.

Poet Judith Wright described them well when she penned, “along the road the magpies walk, with hands in pockets, left and right. They tilt their heads, and stroll and talk”.

Yep, cheerful little critters to have around the place!

BUT let’s get back to the wild sex.

“How on earth do birds actually do it?” asked my good wife Barbara, who couldn’t see any dangly bits on the randy magpie as it hovered over the quivering female.

Being an old farm boy I am supposed to know these things so I explained that birds, just like our chooks, engage in what my old science teacher quaintly called “cloacal kissing”. Chooks and birds have a neat piece of equipment called a cloaca, which is a sort of three-for-the-price-of-one adaptation that

biology textbooks describe as “a cavity in most animals except higher mammals, into which the alimentary canal and the genital and urinary ducts open”.

In other words, this is the hidey-hole from which many critters wee, poo and perform their sexual tricks.

Since the cock bird doesn’t have an external dangly bit, the male and female just rub their cloacas together and with a bit of luck his sperm wriggles off towards her ovaries.

And before I finish this biology lesson, it should be mentioned that some birds do have a retractable penis - a few of the big birds like cassowaries, ostriches and even kiwis, but also water birds like ducks, who often tumble into a moment of passion while still in the water, so if they tried a cloacal kiss in their duck pond those wriggly bits of sperm would just wash off downstream without help from their more lethal retractable penis.

WATCHING this cavorting in our backyard took me back to my boarding school days where two big Ayrshire bulls spent their

waking hours waiting for a frisky heifer to be tossed in to their

paddock.

The bloody teasing of it all as twice a day the entire female herd from our school farm paraded past the bull yards on the way to

milking, while the two toey bulls eyed them off.

Then, like tossing a Christian to the lions, the farm manager would occasionally let in a heifer.

The bull would snort and kick up dust, while the coy cow cowered in the corner.

Word would quickly spread around the school that a cow was in with the bull.

Boys came from everywhere to sit on the fence, some even

stopping their touch footy match to watch the bull clumsily mount, snort, grunt and stir up more dust.

Occasionally a huge cheer would go up from the crowd - not unlike how it must have been in the Colosseum.

Yes, I know what you are

thinking, but entertainment was pretty basic at my school before the days of computer games and YouTube.

WHICH brings us to Young Dud’s school, where his teacher asked him; “What is black and white and red all over?”

“Dunno, Miss,” said Young Dud. “Maybe a magpie after the old man has run over it with the slasher, or a nun who has been mugged behind the pub.”

“Interesting answers,” said the teacher, “but I had in mind the newspaper after your father had finished reading it.”

“My turn to test you with one, Miss,” said Young Dud.

The teacher cringed as Young Dud asked his question.

“What is long, brown and steams out of cows?”

“I have no idea,” said the teacher, wishing like hell she

hadn’t let him ask that question in front of the class.

“Well, what is it Young Dud - and I hope the answer isn’t rude.”

“Her Majesty’s Royal Yacht Britannia, Miss!”