Say “retirement village” and I immediately picture somewhere like the older Ambers in Howick, little square houses all the same, chocolate box garden out front, old folks drifting about like memories.

What a pleasant surprise then to visit Brettenwood’s retirement village last Saturday. It’s nothing like what I imagined. Most of the houses are well spaced out, hidden from one another by the abundant trees and woody undergrowth. Pleasant, shady paths through the forested areas lead you along a string of little dams filled with reeds and lily pads.

And the birds! We live right down on the beach where the birdlife is sparse, but Brettenwood just a little way inland is teeming with them. Birds are what brought me there, on a walk through the estate with the local birders.

We’d often talked about joining the bird club but never got around to it, as one does, because, well, we don’t think we know much about them. This in spite of many, many holidays with expert twitchers. But, some things are slow to sink in. It really is a hobby you ought to start as a child before life happens.

So we got into gear and joined up. Braced ourselves to be schooled. But you know what, it ain’t so bad!

Most of the folks are older though there are a few zippy-keen youngsters. Some in the group are extremely knowledgeable and others not so much. Which is a great mix. You can learn a lot from the fundi’s then retire to the back of the class when your brain is full.

When you’re a learner walking through the bush with an experienced birder, it’s amazing how many birds they hear and see way before you do. A walk through the bush becomes a journey of discovery! It’s about powers of observation, separating the differences and committing them to memory. Easier said than done, but that’s the challenge.

I started my schooling in birding with some easy birds, by learning how to identify the different kinds of doves through their calls and appearance. They’re all around us and are easy to see, unlike the little brown jobs that flit through the bush before you can say ‘robin’. But it awakens your mind to the other bird calls you hear and slowly, very slowly, you can start putting names to other sounds.

Then just when you start getting clever, reality brings you back to earth. I spent 15 minutes the other day trying to identify a call I heard down near Birdhaven, only to realise that it was a frog. Dummy!

Yes, birding is a fun challenge. All that’s needed is a good pair of binoculars, a field guide or phone app, walking shoes and an open mind. If you’re interested in joining the Dolphin Coast Bird Club, call Chris Macdonald on 082 879 4681. They arrange monthly walks all over the coast, in the estates and on farms.

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Funerals are a hard chore and not my first choice, but it was a pleasant surprise to attend the tribute for long time Ballitoite Ian Milsom. He’d been in charge of the electricity department for yonks. I reckon there must be few more frustrating jobs around here, but he was always a calm, kind man.

His widow, Fleurette, pointed out Ian’s dictum as a manager, and I reproduce it below because it should be an important lesson to us all.

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A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

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