Welcome Winter Visitors

One of the delights of Winter in many urban gardens in Tasmania, is the arrival of honeyeaters to feed on the array of "exotic" native plants that flower at this time of year. As I sit typing this story, I can hear the unmistakable "jik" call of a Crescent Honeyeater, just outside the window. It's there to feed on the red flowers of a callistemon (bottlebrush), now unfortunately showing its' 40 years plus, and beginning to slowly die. Every now and then, I try my hand at photographing them. I say them, but in truth, I've no idea how many visit, rarely seeing more than one at any one time. They do seem to have a routine, arriving via a closeby dense shrub, and warily watching for some time before showing themselves. The male Crescent Honeyeaters then usually announce themselves by singing, before partaking of the pollen. The females, with their relatively subdued plumage, slink in, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible, largely because if a male Crescent sees them, they'll be chased off.
Another unobtrusive visitor, far fewer in number, are the Eastern Spinebills. In fact, it was only while trying to photograph the Crescents that I realised that they are regulars too. Difficult to photograph at the best of times, with their hyped up behaviour with constant flicking of wings and tail, the image at top is the only worthwhile shot I managed in several attempts.
Every once in awhile, a flock of Silvereyes will descend on the garden, their arrival preceded by the constant "tang tang" call that keeps the flock together. I counted at least 30 birds in one arriving flock, feeding on both blossom and insects, mainly whitefly and greenfly.
Welcome visitors to me maybe, but their arrival, if spotted, is anathema to the resident Little Wattlebirds. With much snapping of bills, they plough into the shrubs holding the visitors, and chasing them with considerable vigour, when they take flight.
Since I started this story a month has passed and I realised if I didn't publish it soon, Spring will have sprung, and I think maybe it already has. On a recent visit to Risdon Brook Park, I heard then saw 2, almost certainly a pair, Fan-tailed Cuckoos, seemingly on the prowl, and at Peter Murrell Reserve, I heard a Horsfield's Bronze-cuckoo calling. With the continuing dry weather here in the south-east of Tasmania, together with sunny days, one might be forgiven for believing that Spring has indeed arrived. But I don't think we've quite down with Winter yet!

Little Tassie Battler..........40Spotted Pardalote

A recent article in Wingspan (Birds Australia's magazine) highlighted the plight of the Forty-spotted Pardalote, a species endemic to Tasmania. In essence, the article showed that there has been a marked decline in numbers, from an estimated 3,520 birds in 1986-7, to only 1500 or so in the latest survey, conducted in 2009-10. This iconic Tasmanian bird, one of our smallest species, has long been on the endangered list.

40spots are around 10cm in length and they spend much of their life in the outer canopy of eucalypts, and anyone who has looked for them knows just how difficult they can be to find. Probably never numerous, they're found mainly in White Peppermints Eucalyptus viminalis, known as Manna Gums, a species naturally found along the coasts of south-east Tasmania. Colonies are found mainly on Maria and Bruny Islands and on the Tinderbox Peninsula south of Hobart.

The article speculates the reasons for the decline, suggesting climate change, drought and die-back disease in eucalypts.

In recent years I and many visiting birders, have looked and found them in the Peter Murrell Reserve at Kingston, south of Hobart. During my visits this last autumn, I have only occasionally seen them there, and always at the same location. To be fair, I haven't made a point of looking for them, and only found them because I heard them calling. But my overall impression is that there are very few about, and this impression is typical of other birders experience.

I am not a biologist, but my concern is that we seem to know surprisingly little about these birds. It's well known that a major food source is "manna", the conical scales spun by lerp species on the underside of eucalypt leaves. These sugary scales are known as honeydew, and are also eaten by a range of birds, including Black-headed, Yellow-throated, and Crescent Honeyeaters. These lerps are considered a pest as they skeletonise the leaves, which in turn can have an impact on the wellbeing of the tree. My observations locally suggest that there is a paucity of these insects on eucalypts this winter, so is this the "x factor"? Two winters ago the numbers of lerp 'infested" trees was considerable, and many Striated Pardalotes overwintered rather than migrate to the Mainland as they normally do. Were the numbers of lerps the reason?

Obviously the above is just my observations, and only in a small area of the state, but to my mind it does highlight some of the gaps in our understanding of what makes pardalotes 'tick'.

A much greater effort needs to be applied to the wellbeing of the 40Spot and soon. The degrading of the Peter Murrell Reserve, with ever more recreational activity and industrial and housing development on the surrounds, suggests that we're not taking this issue seriously. A more proactive approach is called for.


NB. The accompanying images were taken at the Peter Murrell Reserve about 2 1/2 years ago. I noted that these birds were regularly coming down to a bush on the side of a hill, and was grateful for a relatively easy chance to photograph them. I surmised they might be feeding nearby young, but they didn't appear to be carrying food and were unfazed by my presence. I moved away to better understand what was going on. They were in fact visiting a nest site situated behind a thick piece of bark near the base of a Manna Gum. Further watching revealed that the visiting birds were mainly juveniles, and that a family of 40spots appeared to be using this as a "funk" hole.

Masked Lapwing Feast.

I just caught the end of a TV story a few days ago. It was refuting comments that the Melbourne Cup carnival was in danger of being called off because of an infestation of cockchafer beetles. These little critters, in their larval form, had caused the grass to die, (it eats the roots). In turn, this caused "divoting" of the turf, and deterioration of the track. Having almost no interest in horse racing, I can't say that the story had much interest to me, but it did remind that a few months ago, I had an encounter of sorts with these little "beasts".
I was returning home from the bread run, via the Bellerive waterfront, armed as usual with a camera. It had rained overnight and was still threatening, so my birding was limited to a quick scan of the Derwent River. The nearby point had the usual cormorants, gulls and Crested Terns on, and farther down the estuary I could see several Gannets fishing. Nearer, a few Sooty Oystercatchers were loafing on the rocks, but there was little else of interest, except a pair of Masked Lapwing. They're often there, or close by, so common as to not evoke any interest, but lacking any other chance of photography, I took a few shots. One thing led to another, and I began to wonder what they were feeding on. Multiple shots later, I finally found out, cockchafers.
Cockchafers are a common lawn pest, and I recall a remedy that I suspect would probably be frowned on in these 'waterwise' days--flood the lawn with water, forcing the larva out of the ground and presumably drowning them in the process. The overnight rain had the same effect, giving the plovers a feast. Perhaps a large flock of Masked Lapwing on Flemington race course might have helped rid them of the larva, but judging by the number of them caught by 2 birds on a few square metres of grass, it would have required a very, very large flock.

Priorities.....Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo

I'm sure we all have a set of unwritten priorities when it comes to everyday life. So I'm also sure
that you would do the same thing as I did yesterday morning, in similar circumstances.
I was alerted by my visiting granddaughter Caitlyn, in her usual dramatic way, that a terrible catastrophe was taking place in the toilet. "Water's going everywhere grandpa, come quickly". Something was not well with the cistern, and water was spraying everywhere, including over me, and I soon found myself standing in a few millimetres of an ever widening pool of water, clean I hasten to add! I stopped the flow, but as I walked back through the kitchen to put on some old (and dry) clothes before fixing the problem, I glanced out of the window and down the garden. High in the angophora near the bottom of the garden, I could see a solitary large bird, unmistakably a Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo.
They visit on occasions to feed on the Banksia integrifolia flowers and seeds, but this was the first visit of the year. Any thought of fixing the cistern or cleaning up, quickly disappeared, as I grabbed a camera and headed off down the garden. Unfortunately, the bird had flown. So thinking that was that, I headed back up the garden, but on nearing the house, I heard the unmistakable "kee-ow" scream of their contact call coming from the other side of a banksia spinulosa close to the house. Frustratingly, I couldn't even see the bird, let alone photograph it--foiled again. Eventually it flew back down the garden onto to one of the "integrifolias", finally giving me my photo opp., images shown. As I closed on the cockatoo at top right, I realised it was not alone in the banksia. as a head popped up on the far side, this time a male, pictured at left, and a third bird called from nearby, so they were most likely a family group. After 15 or so minutes, I heard an approaching flock of their fellows, about 18 in all, and "my group" soon joined them. all flying off to the east.
But it wasn't quite over yet. As I climbed the steps to the backdoor, the local flock of 40 or more Galahs, flew over screeching and obviously agitated, usually a sign of a predator about. But the object of their concern was a passing Pelican, fairly uncommon over my garden, flying high to who knows where.
So finally back to the cleanup, but feeling a whole lot more contented than I had a short while ago.

European Wasps and Birds

A recent story in the local paper, The Mercury, caught my attention, and told of losses being sustained by Tamar area grape growers. This time they weren't aiming their ire at birds, such as the Silvereye, but at the European Wasp. (Most vineyards are now netted). Wasps were apparently accidentally introduced to Tasmania around 1959, possibly from New Zealand, and they are now frequently encountered around much of the state. Unlike bees, they are able to sting multiple times and, speaking from personal experience, it's much more painful! The growers complaint was that they are losing up to 30% of their crop to wasps (eating fruit) and they wanted a public campaign to combat them.
My thoughts about the story related to several species of our birds that actually regularly include this pest in their diet, including Noisy Miners, Yellow Wattlebirds, Grey Shrike-thrush and the ubiquitous Silver Gull, but I suspect there are several others. The miners and wattlebirds almost certainly don't target them, but encounter them when both are attracted to flowering
eucalypts. Shrike-thrushes and gulls certainly do, as I recount below.
While birding in the Meehan Range, I came across a pool of water that had collected in a wheel rut and flushed a shrike-thrush from the water's edge. Cursing that I had missed a photo opp. by my lack of vigilance, I was surprised when it quickly returned to the poolside. Over the next several minutes I photographed it on the ground and in the nearby scrub, and despite repeatedly flushing it, it was always drawn back to the pool, but didn't appear to drink. Later, looking more closely at the pool I noted that there was a procession of wasps visiting the edge of the water, presumably to drink. It was then that the penny dropped, the shrike-thrush wasn't drinking but had found a great source of 'easy' food--the wasps.
I had noted and blogged a previous occasion that I had witnessed Silver Gulls targeting wasps, and a few days ago I took the accompanying images of a similar event, this time on Bellerive waterfront. I suspect that it's a regular occurrence. Several gulls lined up, some few metres apart, on the river's edge, facing towards the sun, probably to silhouette the prey. Individual wasps were flying from the shore across the water. The gulls would spot them and give chase as the wasps climbed ever higher. To catch them, the gulls had to use all their flying ability, but I never saw them miss. They would usually descend back to the rocks to eat them, but I couldn't determine whether they removed the sting before swallowing. I'd estimate that they were catching maybe 20 or 30 an hour, so it's probably not going to make too much of a dent in wasp numbers, but every little helps.
From all this a few questions arise. Where are the wasps going to (they're heading off across the Derwent River), or for that matter where are they all coming from, as there was a fairly constant procession of them? Why do the gulls bother with them as they would appear to have very little nutritional value?

Lake Dulverton.....Worth a Look

I stopped fairly briefly at Lake Dulverton, Oatlands, about 10 days ago, and took the accompanying images. For the past several years this lake has been effectively dry, save for a small section next to the high street, but thanks to good winter rain, it's looking more like its' old self. The view at right was taken from the "far side" looking towards the township. I always start from the highway side, looking first at the dammed area which during the last decade has held the only water of any moment for wildfowl. Here were several Black Swan, some with cygnets ranging from near flying to still covered in down. It also appeared probable that Eurasian Coot had bred here too, among the dense floating vegetation, as there were several juvenile coot, one pictured below. I'd heard reports of Hardheads at the lake, and this is where they often hangout, but the combination of looking towards the early morning sun and the thick vegetation made for difficult viewing conditions. To get a better view I walked along the top of the grassed dam, but apart from getting several shots of coot, swan and a couple of Purple Swamphens, I didn't have any better luck, although walking back I spotted a roost of several Little Pied Cormorants in the top of a waterside fir.
I drove round to the camper van parking area and noted as I approached, a few duck and coot on the foreshore and drove closer to investigate. A driveby found a few duck including 2 Australian Shelduck, a pair of Australasian Shoveler, several coot and a few Chestnut Teal. Realising that I had no hope of approaching them on foot without flushing them, I drove along the lake edge and 'shot' them out of the window (accompanying images). Feeling that I'd done my photography "thing", I set about getting an appreciation of the bird life. There were several hundred coot, numerous Black Duck, Chestnut Teal, several 'flotillas' of Hoary-headed Grebe, scores of Black Swan, a scattering of Australasian Shoveler and Wood Duck, but still no sign of Harhead or Great Crested Grebe. Lake Dulverton was once the home of Great Cresteds in Tasmania, and the only site that they regularly bred at. When the main lake dried they bred in the small dammed area that I have previously mentioned, but although I know they nested and laid eggs, I don't believe they ever successfully raised any young. It was here that on one memorable morning I saw 6 Australsian Bitterns on the shoreline, most probably refugees from other drying and dried out lakes. A species that is now rarely seen in this state.
I drove on round the lake to the headland opposite the island. This spot gives a good view of the eastern end of the lake, and has been the best site to see the great cresteds from and appears the preferred area for Blue-billed Ducks too.Here were many more duck, swans and coot, as well as several White-faced Herons chasing grasshoppers along the top of the second dam.
I walked out along this fairly recently built dam, more in hope than expectation, and after much searching drew a blank on the grebes. As I reached the far side a stiffening breeze got up and I decided to call it quits. It also seemed to have some effect on the ducks too, as a procession of duck, mainly pairs of Blacks, flew over towards the eastern section. A small flock of duck showing white in the wings, and obviously not Blacks, flew rapidly towards me and I took a few shots as they passed--"my' Hardheads! About a dozen off them, alighting about 200 metres away, they were quickly 'swallowed up' in the floating vegetation. I drove off feeling somewhat satisfied.
If you're in this neck of the woods, it's also worth having a look at the Mud Walls dam. It's situated on the Mud Walls road about 3 kilometres from the junction of the Midland Highway and the "Richmond road", B31. It's easy viewing from the roadside and if you don't wish to panic the waterfowl, you'd be advised to stay in your vehicle. There were several hundred duck on the water and in the surrounding paddocks as I returned from Oatlands. They included 300 plus Australian Shelduck, numerous Black Duck and Chestnut Teal, 40 odd Australasian Shoveler, around 60 Wood Duck and 2 Grey Teal. This is one of the few sites that I have regularly seen Grey Teal. Both sites are worth a look.

The Ubiquitous Silvereye

At this time of year Silvereyes must be one of the most abundant birds about in many parts of Tasmania, often in large flocks. They're so common that I rarely even bother to photograph them. So usually when I do I know things must be quiet! In this instance that wasn't quite so.
I was making yet another trip to Gould's Lagoon, hoping that the water level had dropped to the point that the crakes might be tempted to feed outside the reed beds. I was particularly after some shots of Spotless Crakes, the shyest of the two species seen at Gould's. I had managed a few distant shots a week or so before, but on this day I was out of luck, scrambling only a few distant shots of an Australian Crake, a species I have frequently photographed here before. The crakes seem to be especially timid at present, perhaps caused by recent cutting of the tall roadside vegetation. There was plenty of other birds to see, including 2 Pelicans and a group of Little Black Cormorants "communally" fishing. A passing Caspian Tern, an infrequent visitor, made a noisy pass at a juvenile Swamp Harrier as it hawked over the lagoon, many Chestnut Teal (including a pair with small ducklings), and the usual Black Duck and Shoveler. A Great Egret roosting with the cormorants was possibly a recent arrival.
Finding no 'Spotless' on the main lagoon, I wandered over to the railway embankment where I have occasionally seen them, but more in hope than expectation. So I wasn't disappointed! There were sizeable flocks of Greenfinch and Goldfinch feeding on rose hips and thistle seed heads. There was also a loose flock of Silvereyes, numbering over 50; flocks sometimes number in the hundreds. Walking back along the water's edge, I found myself among a number of tall Fennel plants that had gone to seed. They're a common weed around the Hobart area, growing mainly on disturbed ground, and although they can be eaten, locals rarely bother with them. Seeing a small brown job, which turned out to be a Brown Thornbill, I ventured farther into the Fennel where I was soon joined by the Silvereyes. As they soon gave me every opportunity to photograph them, I obliged.
Back home with the images on the computer, I was somewhat surprised to notice that they weren't eating the Fennel seeds as I had assumed. Looking closely at the images (such as the one above) I could clearly see that they were after the greenfly and whitefly that was liberally coating the Fennel seed heads. Since many gardeners and grape growers often see Silvereyes as "pests", perhaps finding that they also feed on greenfly and whitefly, they may be looked on just a little more kindly.

Siberia Bound.....Red-necked Stint

Now looking decidedly portly, and having shed their drab greys, most of the local Red-necked Stint are preparing for their annual, epic journey. These small waders will shortly be winging their way back to their breeding grounds in north-east Siberia, several thousand kilometres away, stopping occasionally to top up their fat reserves. Weighing less than 30 grams when they arrived in our spring, by now most will have put on as much as 15 grams for this journey. Only the juvenile birds, born last northern summer, will overwinter here in Tasmania, and in other parts of Australia.
Most of the stint that I observed a few days ago, both at Lauderdale, where I took the accompanying images, and along the South Arm Neck, were showing variable degrees of breeding plumage, but none had yet attained their full rich colouring.
The flock at Lauderdale numbered around 150 stint, together with a dozen or more Double-banded Plover, 30 plus Red-capped Plover and a solitary Red Knot. The stint numbers being the highest I've noted at this venue this summer. South Arm Neck had many more, around 400, but I also noted a distant flock in flight, out of West Bay, that had perhaps as many again.
Ralph's Bay at Lauderdale also turned on another of those feeding frenzies common at this time of year. Large numbers of Silver Gulls, a few Crested Terns and over 40 Black-fronted Cormorants were chasing some unseen prey, probably small fish, all over the bay, even to the shallows alongside the road. The sheer exuberance and persistence of the birds during these events, makes exciting viewing.

Clear Lagoon.....Black-fronted Dotterel

Clear Lagoon, situated at Sandford (but only a stone's throw from Ralph's Bay at Lauderdale) is probably best described as a shallow, ephemeral water body, certainly in the last 10 or so years its few hectares have been totally dry. Good rains last Winter and early Spring filled it to capacity, attracting waterfowl from far and wide. A few Chestnut Teal and Black Swan managed to breed there, as apparently did a pair of Hoary-headed Grebe, surprisingly, given how shallow the lagoon is.
Predictably, after the recent warm Summer, the area of water has been drastically reduced, but it's surrounded by mud, glorious mud.
A few days ago I stopped along Forest Road, which runs along the southern side of the lagoon, to 'scope' the area. Distantly I could see 2 or 3 hundred waterfowl roosting in the remaining water and on closer inspection these turned out to be almost all Chestnut Teal, with a group of a dozen or so Wood Duck and a solitary Black Swan, the latter I suspect has been injured. I could also see a few grey blobs, which from their number I guessed were probably Red-necked Stint that had flown over from Lauderdale. Anyway it was worth a closer look.
My initial concern on entering this reserve, was to avoid flushing the waterfowl, since the duck shooting season had started the previous weekend. (Why oh why do we still allow duck shooting--and call it 'sport'!). When I got a better view of the "stint", they turned out to be Black-fronted Dotterel, in fact 44 of them, one of the largest groups I've seen in Tasmania. Among them was a solitary Red-necked Stint and a Double-banded Plover. By the number of juvenile plumaged blackfronts, they've had a good year.
I can still recall my first Tasmanian sighting of a blackfront. It was in the Tasmanian Midlands at Tunbridge. I was crossing the Tin Dish River (a stream) and flushed a bird from the stony shore. It flew a few metres (yards actually, this was in the Summer of 1971) and propped, giving me a chance to identify it. I have the event recorded in the margin of my copy of Sharland's "Tasmanian Birds", a bird he described as "uncommon". Since that time there has been a modest increase and they can no longer be considered as uncommon in the drier parts of the state.
After counting the dotterels ( I usually call them plover, but I was taken to task after my blog on them. In my defence, I feel it's only a matter of time that they, like other past "dotterels" will be renamed plovers), I wandered around the perimeter, noting the swarms of insects, which in turn was attracting good numbers of Welcome Swallows and Tree Martins. Flocks of White-fronted Chats were at the feast too, although getting close enough to photograph them in an area with little cover, proved a challenge. Small flocks of Australasian Pipits and Yellow-rumped Thornbills flushed from the dry grass as I passed. A group of the blackfronts that had been feeding out on the mud started to feed on the lagoon edge too and briefly gave a 'photo opp', as did the sole Double-banded Plover. So it was pleasing to once again add Clear Lagoon to my list of places worth a visit after so many dry and, from a birders perspective, barren years.

A Morning at Orielton Lagoon

I have to confess that I seldom bird Orielton Lagoon these days, mainly because I have fond memories of its hey day back in the 70s and early 80s. Changes to the waterflow, brought about after serious algae blooms, altered the area drastically. Despite all that, for wader buffs in particular, it's still one of the best sites in southern Tasmania.
I have a routine that I invariably follow. First stop is Cemetery Point on the eastern side of the lagoon. From there I can scan the shoreline, and on this visit a few days ago, I quickly found a group of 5 Pacific Golden Plover, roosting close to some 60 plus Red-necked Stint. I managed a distant shot of 2, "glowing" golden in the early morning sun. While watching these, a pair of Great Cormorants flew close by, and I noted the white patches on their "thighs" denoting that they were in breeding condition, and berating myself for missing a photo opp.. I needn't have worried, because another pair followed shortly after, and a few minutes later a flock of 20 or so followed them, all showing the white patch.
Next stop is the northern end of the lagoon, approached via the stile on Shark Point Road, Gum boots are advisable here, at least if you intend to get to grips with the waders. I scattered a small flock of Australasian Pipits, and the odd rabbit, but little else until I reached the wet mud. A quick scan found 2 flocks of Red-necked Stint, totaling around three hundred or more, and several small groups of Red-capped Plovers. The latter seems to have had a bumper breeding year, with good numbers at several coastal sites. Closing on the waders, I picked out several Double-banded Plovers, hidden amongst the drying pancakes of mud, recently arrived, no doubt, from their breeding grounds in New Zealand. On the outer edge of the mud, I counted 21 Eastern Curlew, and although they were still several hundred metres away, they took flight. To the east I could see a few remaining adult Kelp Gulls, and the odd juvenile, still occupying their breeding grounds. Beyond them a solitary Little Pied Cormorant and 8 Australian Pelican, were roosting on the creek bank. The Kelp Gulls spotted me and, as usual, flew around me calling loudly. Not to be outdone, a pair of Caspian Terns briefly joined in. I wandered over towards the golf course, hoping to find more Golden Plovers, but only turned up a pair of Pied Oystercatchers (and several golf balls).
My third stop was, as usual, at the outfall works at Midway Point, on the western side of the lagoon. At high tide, this spot is the favoured roost site for the Bar-tailed Godwit and Common Greenshank. The tide was only of moderate height and they were not on the favoured small spit, but walking further along the shoreline, I found them on a sand bar, around 30 Bartails and 20 Greenshank, a few of the Bartails attaining breeding plumage. With care, they can often be fairly closely approached, although I did note the fresh paw marks of an errant dog (the lagoon is a RAMSAR site). I decided to take to the water, hoping to get closer without undue disturbance, as I have many times in the past. Everything was progressing well until I realised that I was fast sinking into the silt, something I hadn't encountered before. Panic by me as I flailed around trying to extricate myself from my predicament, followed by first the greenshanks flying off, and shortly after that by the Bartails, something that I had hoped to avoid. I 'righted' myself long enough to get a parting shot of the Bartails, before returning to the task of extrication. I succeeded only after filling my gum boots with mud and water. Fortunately, the 2 species flock alighted close by, but I was not about to cause them further disturbance, and anyway, I had had enough excitement for one day.
[RAMSAR is the international convention signed at Ramsar, Iran in 1971. It's aim is the conservation of important wetlands. There are 65 such sites in Australia]

A Painted Button-Quail

Although I'm out and about birding more than most, at least on the local scene, I rarely see anything other than the expected, and this one so very nearly 'got away'.
I visited the Redgate section of the Meehan Range at Cambridge last Tuesday, with high expectations of getting a few more shots of the Satin Flycatchers or Blue-winged Parrots. Last week I had counted a group of no less than eleven 'Satins' at one point, mostly juveniles and quite the largest number I have ever seen at one time. But the weather intervened, and although it didn't rain, the light conditions became very poor, at least from a photographic standpoint. I had even wound the camera up to ISO 800, something I've not bothered doing previously, because if the light's that bad, you're probably going to battle to get any worthwhile images.
I was about to leave, when I noticed a movement on a nearby bank. Obviously a bird and creeping towards an area of thick scrub. Expecting it to be a Bronzewing pigeon as I had heard what I assumed was that species calling from nearby, but just as it disappeared I ID it as a Quail, a species I have yet to photograph, and rarely see these days. I waited for it to emerge from 'my side' of the scrub, but to no avail. Some minutes later I spotted it again slowly moving across a rise about 30 metres away. So with little enthusiasm or expectation, and with great difficulty in focusing on this very cryptic bird in the gloom, I took several shots. Before I had time to use the binoculars, it had crept off.
An hour or so later and back home, I scanned the few images that I had taken that morning, and surprise, surprise! As you can see from the accompanying image, it turned out to be a Painted Button-quail. Decidedly uncommon these days, or perhaps I should say, surprisingly rarely recorded, and only the third time I've seen this species in Tasmania. Reading up on them, I see that they too have an 'oom oom' call, similar to the bronzewing's, something to remember. Not the best image, it's highly enlarged, but it did make my morning.