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.

Year of the Blue-winged Parrot

Judging from the amount of correspondence I have received, it looks as if the past breeding season has been particularly successful for the Blue-winged Parrot, at least in Tasmania's South-East. These parrots disperse to suitable grasslands post breeding, and it's then that numbers of them are first noticed. My first encounter this year was at Mortimer Bay, Sandford, in small parties of 3 to 5, most probably family groups, back in early January, an earlier date than usual. But I've had reports from as far South as Coningham, also from Kingston, Cambridge, Risdon Brook Park and the Coal River valley. Most were seen in grasslands, as you might expect, although I've seen several groups in the wooded areas of the Meehan Range.
I suspect that the good Winter and Spring rains, the highest rainfall for many years, was the main driver. It produced abundant grass, the seeds, according to the literature, being a major food source. The partly digested seeds are regurgitated to feed the nestlings, and also the female during incubation. From personal experience, for much of the time while they're nesting, you're much more likely to hear, rather than see them. Their "tinkling" call can often be heard as they fly high overhead, to and from the nest site.
Both the accompanying photographs were taken in the Meehan Range in the last few days. The upper shot, of a female I believe, was in a flock of 7 that came down to drink. After drinking, they flew to the shallow end of the pool to wash where they were quickly joined by several Green Rosellas, a not infrequent event. They seem to form a sort of "mutual defence pact", the Bluewings being very alert to anything unusual. The lower image is of a juvenile bird that appeared on its lonesome, stayed briefly, obviously didn't like the look of me, and flew off.
This small parrot, (it's about the size of a domestic budgerigar), is one of my favourites and some years ago now, I was fortunate enough to be involved in a project on this species. The project included a visit to the 'Woolnorth' property in the far North West corner of Tasmania, in Autumn, where they gather prior to migrating to the Australian Mainland. Despite the horrendously wet conditions we encountered, the sight of flocks of 3 or 4 hundred Bluewings wheeling en masse, often being harried by Australian Hobbys, both great aerialists, is one of those memories that I treasure.

Rumblings at Gould's Lagoon.......Crakes

Suffering from some undiagnosed 'issue' with my lower leg, and having limited mobility, I have taken the opportunity to visit Gould's Lagoon at Granton several times and just sit among the reeds and watch and wait. The main aim of this exercise was to get some shots of Little Grassbirds, which at the moment are both numerous and active. Most are juvenile birds from what appears to have been a successful breeding season. On my first visit in early January, most of the youngsters were still at least partly dependent on their parents for food and the birds called frequently, so I got a good idea of their whereabouts--rather useful in thick reedbeds! It also meant that by imitating their call (a series of 2 to 4 rather mournful whistles), I had a chance of attracting them. However, this often meant their approach was rather skulking, and, frustratingly, I could see them only a metre or so away, looking at me rather quizzically through the mass of reeds, and certainly quite impossible to photograph.
While I sat there, trying hard not to dwell too much on the fact that my backside was getting ever damper, I noticed a movement to my left, low among the reeds several metres away. Feeding avidly on unseen invertebrates in the shallow (stinking!) water, and approaching ever closer, was an adult Australian Crake. I can't say that it was entirely unexpected, as I had seen a Spotless Crake in an adjacent reedbed from the roadway, but a great find nonetheless. I should mention here that it was a very still morning, no wind, and the sounds and smells from nearby houses were wafting my way. The crake, one of three I saw that first morning, seemed unfazed by sounds of large construction vehicles passing, a goods train, passing cyclists talking loudly, or even my camera shutter, which in the still, sounded like a machine gun. It was soon joined by a youngster (seen above), which kept close in to the reeds. Presumably it hadn't yet quite got used to the sounds of "civilisation", because the slightest sound saw it disappear into the vegetation. The adult came ever closer, and I took many shots. It's pertinent to mention here that these birds are only the size of a starling (with rather larger legs), so close is "good". I couldn't believe it hadn't seen me as I wasn't hidden, and the sound of the shutter seemed so loud. Well, I've found one noise it definitely didn't like--the rumblings of my stomach! I'm afraid I've 'suffered' all my adult life with a grumbling stomach. I've kept meetings amused, certainly when among people I know, but among strangers it can be embarrassing, and I've taken to sitting in the back row if possible. The crake took off at lightning speed, and at first I looked around for the cause, but a repeat performance half an hour later, revealed me as the culprit.
I've been back a few times since, and the juvenile crake image was taken more recently and it's now beginning to show the typical crake markings. I've also managed several shots of the grassbirds, but they appear without warning to feed on the edge of the reeds, and several times I've missed great opportunities while watching the crakes. One is sometimes faced with a dilemma, do I concentrate on the crakes or the grassbirds, and although I must have taken hundreds of shots of the crakes and few of the grassbirds, I do still find the crakes rather fascinating. I just hope they'll forgive my stomach.
Afterthought
Perhaps I should have added a possible explanation to the "rumblings" before you dismiss the story as fanciful or worse. The various inhabitants communicate in the reedbeds by various calls, these crakes by a single note not dissimilar to a quieter, less harsh version of the swamphen's. They share this environment with Purple Swamphen, Tasmanian Native Hen, the occasional Coot, other crakes and possibly Lewin's Rail. Between them they have a variety of calls, many could be described as grunts or guttural in nature. So I suspect the crake with a youngster in tow on hearing a rumbling stomach, mistook it for one of these other inhabitants and using the precautionary principle, took off. Certainly the arrival of an adult Swamphen with juvenile in tow, caused a similar flap.
NB. If you wish to see more images of the crakes, click "Alan Fletcher's Bird Photo's" link at right, then click "Wetland Birds" .

Birds of Ironhouse Point

Ironhouse Point is situated on Tasmania's Eastcoast to the East of St. Mary's, and although it's not a recognised birding spot, the birds here are fairly typical of those of much of the coast from the Freycinet Peninsula to St. Helens. I spent around a week here, at a resort, with friends and family over the Christmas break, so birding was conducted somewhat ad hoc. Much of the forested area was 'devastated' in the extensive bushfires around 3 years ago, and is now mostly typical after fire regrowth.
I managed to bird most mornings, before everyone roused, and from many years of birding during the Summer months on the Eastcoast, this is the pick of the day, before the almost inevitable, euphemistically called, sea breeze comes in--a cooling, often strong, onshore wind. I totalled just over 50 species of birds, which included a few, such as Australasian Gannet and Black-faced Cormorant, only seen offshore, and single pairs of both Hooded Plover and Pied Oystercatcher on the beach. Surprisingly, honeyeaters were 'light on', the commonest and most widespread being Little Wattlebird, but also the odd Yellow Wattlebird, numerous New Holland, and several Yellow-throated. Most mornings found a range of birds sunning themselves in the early sun, including Pallid, Fan-tailed and Horsfield's Bronze cuckoos , but also Australasian Pipit (common, no skylarks), Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike, Dusky Woodswallow and Welcome Swallow.
The resort here boasts a substantial impoundment (stocked with trout), which attracted Great Cormorant, Pelican, Black Swan and a pair of Musk Duck. A drying swamp area behind the dunes held a surprise. While watching Superb Fairy-wrens, I could hear a solitary Striated Fieldwren calling, and in trying to find it, flushed first one, then another Latham's Snipe, an uncommon bird on this coast.
Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills were common, as were Grey Fantail. I recorded both Flame and Dusky Robins, but no Scarlets. Silvereye were widespread, particularly in the coastal wattles, as were the fairy-wrens, some seen carrying nesting material. A few White-fronted Chat were seen, all in the dunes or feeding among the beach wrack. While on the subject of small passerines, I noted in the Bird Atlas records, that the only thornbill recorded here was the Tasmanian, whereas I saw and photographed both Brown and Yellowrumped only. It's a point that has "worried" me for some years, and this habitat is not typical Tasmanian Thornbill country. This isn't an isolated instance, and I feel that some birders at least, are unable to tell 'brown' from 'Tasmanian'. I would suggest that if in doubt, they omit. I have to admit to sometimes having difficulty myself!
Both Striated and Spotted Pardalotes were common here, but I failed to record a single raptor, although I had seen a Sea Eagle a few miles to the South. The 'higher' predators seem to consist of a few Grey Butcherbird, Grey Shrike-thrush and Kookaburra. The only parrot species observed was a few Green Rosella. Around the buildings were the inevitable House Sparrow, Goldfinch, Starling, and Blackbird, but surprisingly, I didn't see a single Greenfinch, a common bird in coastal wattles A large family of Tasmanian Native Hens utilised the grassed areas, competing at times with wallabies and wombats. The accompanying images were all shot at Ironhouse Point. Great to get away from my usual haunts and a great family holiday too.

Trials & Tribulations of Hooded Plover

I'm well aware of many of the conservation issues faced by Hooded Plovers while breeding here in Tasmania, but seldom "see" it in action. A family getaway over the Christmas break gave me an all too closeup of the problems facing them while breeding. We stayed at a resort South of Falmouth boasting 2 beautiful, pure white, typical eastcoast beaches and I took little time in sussing them out for bird life. I quickly found a pair of Pied Oystercatchers which appeared to be the only shorebirds occupying either beach. But during an early morning walk the following day, I photographed a single Hooded Plover (at right) among the beach wrack. While walking back up the track through the dunes, I flushed another and came within an ace of stepping on their 3 eggs in a shallow scrape, mid track. From my observations over the years, this is not their preferred site, but as you can see from the image at top left, ever increasing tide heights have produced "sand cliffs", and the beaches they prefer are no longer available to safely nest on. Since the bush track was wide and not used by most of the holidaymakers, I thought that it was reasonably secure. How wrong I was!
A few days later, while I was fishing off the breakwater, a series of fellow visitors were enjoying rides on a jet ski nearby. As I found the constant sound of the jet ski a little wearing, I wasn't exactly sympathetic when it broke down on the next beach up. I didn't see what subsequently happened, so I can only guess. But the upshot was that a 4WD vehicle tried to access the bush track, probably to 'recover' the jet ski, and while trying (and failing) to get to the beach, completely buried the plover's nest, something I only discovered the following day. I'm not apportioning blame here, I would probably have done the same myself in similar circumstances.
A few days later on a nearby beach, my son found another hoodie's nest, this time at the top of a considerably wider beach and on the slope of the dune. In the meantime, I was attempting to photograph a pair of hoodies feeding on the tide line, undoubtedly the owners of the nest. I was all lined up as they neared me, but, concentrating on the birds, I was unaware of an approaching runner with dog. I caught sight of the dog at the last minute and captured the image at left.
These kinds of disturbance are, sadly, all too common, and these eastcoast beaches are relatively undisturbed. It does not augur well for the hoodies future, especially with global warming and subsequently higher tide heights kicking in and in so doing, denying these and other shorebirds, feeding and breeding places.

Have A Merry & Safe Christmas