INCOMING, six o'clock! The aggressor turns into a steep dive, locking quickly onto its perceived enemy. Its victim increases speed, desperately dodging and weaving, but the smaller fighter flies in like a bullet, manoeuvring expertly and delivering its first attack. Its machine-gun beak clacks "rat-tat-tat-tat-tat" as it veers just centimetres from its victim, then soars into the sky and banks for its next attack. This time, there will be blood. Along with some 85 per cent of Australians, I've been swooped by magpies. I've also been bullied by butcher birds, lashed at by lapwings and niggled by noisy miners. I love birds and all, but maybe Alfred Hitchcock was onto something.
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