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One night a flock of red-tailed black cockatoos break the quiet as they charge up from the creek, right over the homestead, then down the hill towards Clem’s house.’They’re my favourite, you know, of all the birds, they’re the best,’ comes Tom’s raspy whisper. ‘I know Dad,’ says Clem. ‘You always say.”They’re majestic, dramatic. You wouldn’t argue with one.
