In September, the St George and Sutherland Shire Leader had reported trouble with a colony in two large gums on Myers Street in nearby Sans Souci. Resident Garry McCarthy was reported as saying: “Ibises roost communally and this large colony produces droppings and faeces on a weapon-grade scale.

“Cars parked in the street have been absolutely caked in ibis faeces, paint work extensively stained and damaged ... The roadway often looks like a ski-run on Thredbo.”

Georges River Council’s then deputy mayor (now mayor), Elise Borg, went into bat, and posted on Facebook: “I put forward a notice of motion to the last council to amend council’s tree policy to include a provision specifically addressing ibis infestations, which was adopted unanimously by my fellow councillors.”

From Perth to Brisbane, councils have wrestled with the need to balance thriving suburban populations of this native species with human priorities, resulting in the occasional cull, to the outcry of bird lovers.

As Jim Gainsford in the Leader reported, the birds are protected under the NSW National Parks and Wildlife Act 1974, but “if protected native animals are shown to be a threat to human safety, damaging property and/or causing economic hardship, the National Parks and Wildlife Service may grant a licence to the owner or occupier of a property, to harm [e.g. cull or catch and release] the animals.”

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There was no notification about our disappeared birds, but the council told me: “In accordance with National Parks and Wildlife requirements and council’s procedures for ibis management, Georges River Council installed non-harmful deterrents to discourage the ibis birds.”

Alas, their removal will not save one of the trees in which they nested. “Council will be removing the infected palm in the new year as it is infected with Fusarium oxysporum, a fatal fungal disease that affects palms throughout Australia, which causes the leaves to turn yellow and the plant to eventually die,” a spokesperson said. Ibis were identified a decade ago as transmitters of the organism in Marrickville trees.

I can’t truly say I miss them here. I like walking under the palms with no fear of fresh poo on a shoe, or worse, in my hair, and without holding my breath to avoid the stench.

But I also feel wistful for their fate. They may not be the ballerinas of the bird world, but there’s something to love about a creature that looks so majestic in flight yet is humble enough to eat from a dumpster.

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