Another Vagrant.... Pink-eared Duck

     About 4 weeks ago, a report of yet more vagrant ducks at Gould's Lagoon at Granton in southern Tasmania, found me scurrying off to hopefully find them. The focus of my search was 5 Pink-eared Ducks. With only a handful of previous records, they are a decided rarity in Tasmania, and I fully expected to find a 'crowd' of birders, or whatever the colloquial term is for a group of birders--I can think of a few! Not a birder in sight. I had the lagoon to myself.
     A walk along the roadside between the two halves of the lagoon failed to locate any of the Pinkears among the numerous Australasian Shoveler, Grey and Chestnut Teal, a few Hardhead and the Freckled Duck mentioned in the previous blog. I didn't venture into the far northern end of the main lagoon, reasoning that they were unlikely to be among the many "ferals" that roost there. On to the hide for a quick.look at the ducks hanging out there, but still no sign. I decided to walk up the hill near the cormorant roost to overlook the lagoon, thinking that would be my final chance. So I was disappointed that there was still no sign of my "quarry" from this vantage point either. I was just about to give up and head back to my vehicle when, steaming from behind the hill, in line astern, the Pink-eared Duck came into view. Satisfaction and relief! They had been among the ferals at the northern end--a lesson for next time.
      They were mid lagoon with bills and heads in the water up to their eyes as they powered past, apparently a normal feeding method. This is a unique looking duck, with its' strangely shaped, oversize bill, large markings around the eye and striped body, quite unlike any other Australian duck. I've seen this duck in Tasmania and on the Mainland, but it had never occurred to me why it was called "pink-eared". It was only after looking at the images on my computer some hours later, that I could see the small "pink ear" just behind the eye. They are also called Zebra Duck for obvious reasons.
        A hundred metres from me they joined a score of Eurasian Coots feeding mid lagoon. The Pinkears  feed on microscopic invertebrates and seed, and often 'spin' while feeding, creating a vortex and thus drawing up food particles from below the surface. They have a bill adapted to filtering out food as they skim the surface of the water. I've seen Australasian Shoveler using a similar method.
         I returned to my earlier spot along the roadside, hoping I would be closer to the "action" and might get a photograph or two--I wasn't and didn't. I waited for 30 minutes or more, hoping for a photo.opp., but just to add to my 'misery', they stopped feeding and sat on the water with heads tucked into their bodies and slept. This small flotilla slowly passed down the lagoon wafted by a light breeze, but gave no chance of worthwhile photography. I did manage to get a distant shot on another visit, shown at top. Reading up about these ducks, they're described as "often quite tame". I don't think these birds have read the same information! The likely explanation is that they have been shot at or at venues where duck shooting has taken place. They are wholly protected in Tasmania.
          Having written frequently about various rare visitors that have graced Gould's Lagoon this year, I should mention that 'Gould's' is also home to many Australasian Shoveler (male lower image), particularly at this time of year. It's possibly the best and easiest place to see these duck anywhere in the state. I recently counted 40 pairs roosting here, some with the ever burgeoning numbers of Freckled Duck--19 at a recent count.
     

Togetherness.....Banded Stilt

     Driving back from South Arm a couple of weeks back, I noticed a group of predominentlyy white birds a hundred or more metres away which I couldn't readily recognise. I stopped and investigated and found six Banded Stilt feeding in the shallow water of Ralph's Bay. I was already late for an appointment, and reluctantly drove on, persuading myself that trying to photograph these birds on a wide and open beach would be difficult if not impossible anyway--that was to prove false. I made a note to return on a full tide and try when they were roosting.
     An email from Eric Woehler (Chair Birdlife Tasmania) a few days later, telling me that Mark Holdsworth and Sue Robinson had also reported them, "fired" me up, and high tide or not, I'd try my luck.

      There have been several recent reports of sighting around the state, from Moulting Lagoon, Bruny Island, and not forgetting the "few thousand" seen at Logan's Lagoon on Flinders Island. Given the number of sightings/birds involved, you might be wondering why the excitement. Well Banded Stilts are usually described as "rare", "casual" or "vagrant" visitors to Tasmania, and the last time I saw them in Tasmania's south-east, was back in the '80s, and prior to that, my only record was a solitary bird at Lauderdale in 1976/8.
       On a bright, clear morning, with the thermometer hovering in the low single figures, I donned gum boots and wandered off with hope, but little expectation, of getting somewhere close enough to 'meaningfully' photograph this group of stilts feeding avidly in a few inches of water out in the centre of the bay. A few distant "record" shots and a slow approach worked well and I closed to within 15 metres or so. By sitting on my haunches and being very patient, they closed on me until they seemed to suddenly 'notice' me and scurried past to resume feeding a little farther on.
       As you can see in the accompanying photographs, they fed together, walking line abreast, picking up unseen prey from the shallow water. Subsequent viewing of images, showed the prey was almost entirely of small snails (salinator fragilis has been suggested, a very common snail here). They were very jumpy, and even an alarm call of a distant Noisy Miner obviously "worried" them, although they took my presence in their stride. At one point they all stood upright and milled about in all directions, so I turned and walked away from them fearing I was causing them some distress. On turning round they had gone! I soon found them a few hundred metres away, and the 'cause'--a passing Swamp Harrier high overhead. They had formed a flock with Pied Oystercatchers and White-faced Herons, but within a few minutes they were back feeding.
         Banded Stilt, an Australian endemic species, breed in the salt lakes of inland Australia, primarily in Western Australia, but also in northern South Australia. Their chief food there are the numerous brine shrimps and I'm assuming that the habit of feeding in line abreast is a very effective method of maximising their 'catch'. 'Old habits' obviously die hard, as the local snails are not known for their fast getaway!
        It's very hard to determine how many snails the stilts were consuming, but a quick estimate was that they caught (all 6) between 20 and 30 a minute, possibly more, which seems a lot! But I suppose the actual amount of meat, as opposed to shell, is quite small in this snail. After about 30 minutes of photography and just watching them, they stopped, preened and roosted no more than 20 metres away, quite remarkable.
           The first recorded sighting of Banded Stilt in Tasmania was also in Ralph's Bay, back in June 1854, when seven were shot! I assume they were considered "fair game' back then and eaten. Which reminds me, if you're considering photographing them, do it with consideration. If you are causing them to continually change the direction that they are feeding, you are too close. Stay your distance and be patient.

Suburban Cattle Egret

    A recurring back "issue" has limited my birding opportunities, so the following event was gratefully received.
      I was returning from watching granddaughter Caitlyn play soccer, and driving up Gordon's Hill Rd., a suburban 'link' road between Bellerive and Lindisfarne, two of the Hobart's largest Eastern Shore suburbs, when something white and moving on the roadside caught my eye. As I passed I realised it was an egret and  possibly a photo opportunity, but I was in a stream of traffic and stopping was just not on. "I'll take the next right and come back up the hill" and then proceeded to get lost in the labyrinth of back roads and I was beginning to get both frustrated and agitated as time ticked by. Finally, I got back onto to the main road, by now fully expecting that the 'bird had flown'. But I was in luck and stopped briefly to take a few shots from the car, only for the bird to be disturbed by a jogger, fortuitously flying up a side street, I followed and took the accompanying images.
     The 'egret" is in fact a Cattle Egret and as its' name implies, is more at home in the paddocks catching insects disturbed by stock than feeding in suburban front gardens. It had obviously found an untapped food resource, catching insects, probably grasshoppers, as it made its' way from one garden to the next, and there seemed to be no lack of available food. At one point it crouched and stalked an unseen prey, much in the way cats do, and after a swift jab, came up with a hapless skink, dispatching it in a trice.
       Cattle Egrets are mainly winter visitors to Tasmania, and are occasionally seen in flocks numbering in the hundreds, especially so in the North West of the state and on King Island. Here in southern Tasmania the flocks are usually modest in size, often a dozen or less. Although their name implies an association with cattle, they are also found in association with both sheep and horses, or indeed just feeding in grasslands or around lagoons.

     About 30 years ago, it was confidently assumed that they would soon start breeding here in Tasmania, particularly on King Island and along the Northeast coast, but this hasn't yet occurred. If you look at the way this species has colonised Australia in the past 70 years, beginning in the 1940s in the Northern Territory, I think I can confidently predict that it will eventually become a breeding resident of this state.
 

Back to "Gould's"......Freckled Duck

         A report of 3 Freckled Duck at Gould's Lagoon last weekend by Lachie Clark, had me scurrying off to "Gould's" early on monday morning. The report only said 'possible', but by the description that followed I was in little doubt. They are correctly described as "rare" or "vagrant" in Tasmania, but a few have appeared over the years.  It's many years since I have seen one here, so I arrived, fully expecting that there would be a throng of eager twitchers seeking them out, but I was on my lonesome.
          Lachie had mentioned them being on the eastern lagoon alongside the railway line, but a quick scan didn't produce any sighting. I walked to the northern end and eventually found a single "freckled" following a pair of Chestnut Teal as they fed in the shallow water, but all rather silhouetted against the rising sun. I could now see why the first observer had so much difficulty in identifying them--it had little or no distinguishing marks save for the odd shaped head. Further scanning produced two more "freckled", lurking among the reeds. I took a few shots, but the light was terrible and the birds were distant. I decided to bird the lagoon and return when the sun had risen further.
           On my return I couldn't even find these birds. Oh well, that's the way it goes sometimes. On the 'western' lagoon, I did photograph a few roosting duck with heads tucked into their bodies that appeared to be Hardhead, which have been common here for much of the summer, and headed for home.
           On reviewing my shots of the "Hardhead", I realised they were the Freckled Duck! Red face time! So I decided to return the following day.
            Day 2 and a quick scan of the eastern lagoon revealed no ducks at all, so I walked to the same spot I had seen them the previous day--they were there. I was soon joined by Els Wakefield, also seeking to photograph them. Fortuitously, after watching sleeping "freckled" for 20 minutes or more ('watching drying paint' comes to mind), one set off to fed, hurrah! It gave the opportunity of getting the sort of shot we hoped for, and we set to. When this bird disappeared behind a small reedbed, I glanced down the lagoon, wasn't that another "freckled"! It didn't seem likely, but I set off, trying to keep low behind the sparse vegetation along the roadside--indeed it was, making a total now of four. This bird too, gave a reasonable chance to observe (and photograph) for several minutes, before joining the other duck back at the roost site.
             Reading up about this species of duck, I came across the word used for this ducks feeding method--"suzzling". What a great word! It refers to the action of filter feeding, where the duck sucks particles into the bill tip and expels water near the bill base, as it feeds on seeds and small crustaceans. "Our" birds noticeably 'dribbled' as they fed. During the breeding season, the males have a bright red area between nostrils and forehead on the upper mandible. Looking at some of the images, it appears that at least 2 of the Gould's birds had evidence of dark red on the upper bill, suggesting they are males.
              Freckled Duck are arguably Australia's rarest, endemic duck, with an estimated population of less than 20,000. They breed in the areas around the Lake Eyre Basin, western NSW and south west Queensland, often after flooding. After successful breeding years (Lake Eyre region has been in flood in recent years) they move out of their breeding areas as the interior dries, seeking better conditions. If drought persists they irrupt into coastal areas, and many have been recorded around coastal areas of Mainland states in recent months. Unfortunately, this irruption often coincides with the "shooting season" and many are shot. They are wholly protected throughout Australia.

Gould's Lagoon... The "Others"

Before the "excitement" at Gould's Lagoon over the sightings of two Baillon's Crakes (see previous blog) becomes a distant thought, albeit a memorable one, it's worth mentioning other sightings. I'm not a patient birder at the best of times, but to photograph or even sight the "Baillon's" required considerable sitting or standing in a chosen spot for hours, yes hours. I should recount here that one local, 'nameless' birder, recounted that he had spent a total of 17 hours looking for this crake, before finally succeeding--I'm not sure what to say about that feat!
  During my sojourns sitting in the hide, or wandering around the lagoon perimeter, there were plenty of distractions, not including the human ones (the lagoon is very adjacent to a major suburb).
     The early morning visitors usually started with Welcome Swallows, mostly family groups, hawking for insects, with the occasional individual 'propping' on a large post in front of the hide. This is usually followed by a visit from a Swamp Harrier (image) looking for breakfast, and its' presence is usually heralded by the strident calls of the numerous Masked Lapwing that temporarily leave their roost on the nearby railway embankment, to harass it. I do wonder whether they do this from habit or perhaps just enjoy the pursuit, since they no longer have young to protect. There is little doubt that these harriers do take a substantial toll on the young of several species that breed in and around the lagoon, but the area would be the 'poorer' if they were absent.
     While wandering around, I watched two Australian Crakes (image) swim across a gap between reed clumps, one stopping en route to grab a small fish, while a few metres away on the dry crust, 3 Black-fronted Plover (image) "ticked" away at my presence, before taking flight. Two Great Egrets (image) have been present much of the summer, but have lately been joined by three others, and together with Australian Pelicans, have feasted on the small fish in the ever diminishing eastern lagoon. 
     Getting to the hide inevitably causes considerable disturbance especially to the ducks, the approach being open, but a slow approach may minimise this effect, but the hide offers less than ideal cover. With patience, and perhaps the presence of the more audacious Purple Swamphens and Eurasian Coots, a few duck return to the water's edge to roost. I managed to photograph Chestnut and Grey Teal, and Australian Shoveler, all from the hide, but they remained suspicious. Swamphen and Tasmanian Native Hen occasionally crept past, all with one eye on me, and an immature Dusky Moorhen (image), a relatively recent breeding resident here, sidled past too. I watched family groups of Common Greenfinch (image) and European Goldfinch, fly down to the water's edge to drink at several parts of the lagoon, but only managed this single shot of a greenfinch,( frankly they really seem more yellow than green!)
        Arguably the highlight of my recent visits and one that nearly 'got away', was the arrival of a single young Swift Parrot (image). The Swift Parrot is listed as endangered under the Tasmanian Threatened Species Act, so any sighting away from their known areas is noteworthy. The truth is, at the time of its' arrival, I was deeply engrossed in photographing the Baillon's Crake, which was slowly making its' way towards me, and my concentration was such that everything else was virtually shut out. I did notice its' arrival on a nearby reed stem, but as Musk Lorikeets could be seen and most certainly heard, only a short distance away, I assumed that's what it was. Fortunately, because it was in an unusual habitat (not a flowering eucalypt!), I took a few shots anyway, then returned to the crake. The crake shortly moved out of sight and I was able to return to the "lorikeet". Then the penny dropped! The lack of the long tail of the adult 'threw me'. It was obviously aware of my presence, but flew down to the water's edge and first drank, then partially immersed itself in the dreadful looking lagoon water. It was actually in sight for nearly 5 minutes, but my mind was so focused on the crake that I didn't really make the most of this unusual event. I can take some comfort in the fact that only a few minutes later the 'Baillon's' made its' closest approach and the best photo.opp.--so what would have been your choice? 

Baillon's Crake at Gould's Lagoon

  Gould's Lagoon, near Granton, in southern Tasmania, has this summer become something of a Mecca for many local and visiting birders. The centre of their 'excitement' has been the sighting of several crakes including at least 2 Baillon's Crakes, something of a rarity in this state. Their job has been made decidedly easier by the low water levels and a relative paucity of reed cover. Crakes are 'lurkers' by nature, preferring the dense reedbeds to the exposed mud, but have been forced into the open as the food rich wet mud has 'receded' from the reedbeds.
   On hearing of first one, then 2, Baillon's Crakes, I just had to visit "Gould's". A single bird was first reported by Ed Pierce in early December and tentatively IDed as a Baillon's Crake. Rodger Willows subsequently sighted this bird and then a second, keeping birders updated as to where they might be seen. I made several brief visits, but 'only' sighted several Australian Crakes, but there were many other "goodies" sighted too, including Hardheads, Grey Teal, Australasian Shoveler, Black-fronted Plovers, Caspian Tern, and Little Grassbirds to name a few.
    After meeting Rodger Willows by chance and getting some first hand information, I eventually managed to find a single bird on the edge of the eastern lagoon. My views highlighted the difficulties of crake watching. Although I had scanned this area before, I eventually noticed a movement beneath the fallen sedge stalks, on the far side of the lagoon, some 20 metres away, and there, shuffling along, was a small bird and by its' shape, obviously a crake. I watched for sometime and eventually it broke cover and I was better able to see the colouration and confirm that it was indeed a Baillon's, my first for several years. It seemed 'nervous' and several times ran for cover, once for a passing Swamp Harrier, and again after a brief 'confrontation' with an Australian Crake. It was this event that made me aware of just how small this bird is. The Australian Crake is perhaps the size of a slightly corpulent starling, and the Baillon's, a whole size smaller, being about sparrow size, no wonder I had so much difficulty finding it.
     Mid January, Jeremy O'Wheel photographed the Baillon's from the hide and it appeared this was worthy of follow up and attempt at photographing said bird. So a few days later I sat in the hide and waited, not with any great conviction, but my patience was to be rewarded. Watching several feeding coot some distance away, I became aware of a small bird feeding amongst them--"the" crake--I had at least seen this 'second' Baillon's. I was joined by Els Wakefield and Karen ? and we sat patiently hoping and reminiscing about past bird encounters, all 'armed' with cameras. We took oh so many shots as it eventually 'fronted' the hide, but in the overcast, I can't say that my results, at least, were much more than record shots. So a few days later, in better light, I tried again.
       The second try was not without its' frustrations. First a passing Swamp Harrier scattered "everything" and no sooner had they settled down than a visiting birder arrived, having a similar effect. This was followed by 2 locals, dressed for the beach, who had little or no interest in birds or the lagoon, who stood in the middle of the walkway to take the 'obligatory' camera phone shot of themselves, before, mercifully, moving on. I mention all this, because, as you might gather, I did become somewhat frustrated by this toing and froing, but this is a public hide in a public place and like it or not, visitors go with the territory. I still managed the accompanying images (not to mention many others), not quite what I had hoped for, but it's not often that I get to photograph such an elusive bird.

Season's Greetings

                     Have a happy, fulfilling, and safe, Christmas & New Year.

Worth a Visit........Pilcher's Hill Reserve

Satin Flycatcher (male)

Over the last few months I've been surveying bird populations in some of the reserves in the Clarence City Council area ('Clarence' lies on the eastern shore of the Derwent River 'opposite' Hobart).  
I'm quite well acquainted with most of these reserves, but one seems to have 'escaped' me--Pilcher's Hill at Gielston Bay. I had made a fleeting visit a year or so ago, in light drizzle, and my first impressions weren't good. It lies close to a fairly recent housing development for one, and has been the dumping ground for building and garden 'refuse' and is criss-crossed by multiple bulldozed tracks and, if that wasn't enough, it is still recovering from a major bushfire of a few years ago. Doesn't sound too good so far!

Flame Robin (male)

So without a great deal of 'conviction', I undertook two surveys one each in October and November. Both early morning and lasting a few hours on each visit. So the surprising result was that I recorded a total of 44 species not counting 'overflyers' such as Kelp Gulls. To this total, I consider other species that are probably present, especially closer to the hills of the Meehan Range, or casual visitors (e.g. Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo and raptor species), may total an additional 16. The only raptor seen, and on several occasions, was a male Brown Goshawk, which I'm sure is breeding here.
In the Tasmanian context that puts this reserve, in species terms, among the best. Finding only 6 of the Tasmanian endemics was a little disappointing, but a search in the wetter areas nearer the Meehan range will probable show the presence of both Tasmanian Thornbill and Scrubwren--awaiting further surveys. It's worth commenting here that most of the 44 species seen in this reserve, are breeding here too.
Dusky, Flame and Scarlet Robins were recorded, with the former present in considerable numbers, largely in the bushfire damaged regrowth areas. In fact I can't recall ever seeing the numbers of Dusky Robins that were present here, anywhere, quite remarkable. Both Bronzewing Pigeon species are present, and finding 5 Brush Bronzewings on a track in open, dry scrub, was an interesting sighting.

Scarlet Robin (male)

Of the summer migrants, Satin Flycatchers were the stand out, with one or more pairs heard calling in most wooded valleys.  Three of the four cuckoos were present, with only the Horsfield's Bronze-Cuckoo absent--I have only 2 spring records this year. A few Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike and Dusky Woodswallows were also seen, but numbers of the latter seem to be well down on 'usual' numbers in many areas. 
Surprisingly (and with some feeling of relief!), I have yet to record Australian Magpie or Noisy Miners in the reserve, but that could easily change if large trees were removed, as they have in my suburb (Bellerive)-- many bush species that were once regular visitors to my garden are now only a distant memory.
So if you're looking for fresh fields to explore, you might consider a visit to this reserve. I would be interested in your observations. 
 NB. The accompanying images were taken during the surveys.

Not Far from the Madding Crowd.....Australian Reed-Warbler

The grandchildren had opted for a visit to Zoodoo, not far from Richmond (southern Tasmania), a few weeks back. I have a somewhat ambivalent attitude towards zoos, but concede that for the children, it's a great day out. Our ritual when we're in the Richmond area, has to include a visit to the local bakery for lunch, followed by a visit to the sweet shop and then on to the "bridge" to see the ducks. 
   The day had proved to be unusually mild and the village was choked with people and parked cars. The bakery was full of like-minded visitors all vying for the diminishing choice of pies and sandwiches. Not my scene at all, and I couldn't wait to move on. I hadn't felt the best from the outset and my patience was fast running out. I avoided going into the crowded "old world" sweet shop, giving the grandchildren some money instead, and warning them of the dire consequences of spending more than the very modest limit I had set. On to the bridge and the ducks.
For many visitors to the village, Richmond Bridge is the one "must see" site. Completed in 1825, it's the oldest bridge in Australia that's still in use. It's showing its' age. 

      The grandchildren spilled out of the vehicles and ran down the grassy banks to the river. A photographer was ushering a wedding party into position, while other visitors took the inevitable images of the view through the bridge arches. I tried to relax by the vehicles, keeping a watchful eye on the young ones. A chainsaw roared intermittently nearby as did a number of lawnmowers, a group of bikers crossed the bridge, briefly raising the noise level to new heights, but even amongst all this hubbub, I suddenly became aware of the unmistakable sounds of a bird persistently calling-- an Australian Reed-Warbler. The day took on a whole new perspective, my spirits raised. Amazing what one small, as yet unseen, bird can do!
         
I strode down to the river bank about 50 metres away and listened, trying to locate the calling bird among a small area of phragmites reed on the opposite bank. A Tasmanian Native Hen swam towards me, 'escaping' an off lead dog. A Little Black Cormorant nervously passed, diving after unseen prey. A Black Duck ushered her youngsters away from me and a single Eurasian Coot sought refuge among the reeds. The reed-warbler sang on, still hidden among the reeds. An eel rose, taking bites out of passing slices of bread thrown by visitors, and Welcome Swallows collected mud for their nests from the river bank--and the bird sang on. Finally, it appeared on a stem on the outer edges of the phragmites clump, giving me my first view, still calling, with  its' rich, rasping notes now seemingly drowning out all other noises around me. A great moment.

       A few days later I returned to Richmond and took the accompanying images. It required rather more patience than I can usually muster and had its' moments of sheer frustration. From my observations, it appears that 2 pairs of Australian Reed-warblers were present. This species is not rare in Tasmania, but is fairly thinly distributed in the south. Most are summer migrants to this state, but on bright sunny days in mid winter, I've heard them calling in the Tamar Marshes, probably the stronghold for this species in Tasmania. Gould's Lagoon at Granton was for many years the "surefire" place around Hobart to see them, but in the last few years they have been almost absent. A single bird, late last summer, is my only record from there for the past 2 years.
                                                                             

  

Golden Mornings........Whistlers

Towards the end of August, there was a noticeable increase in female Golden Whistlers in some of the coastal areas that I frequent. They were feeding quietly among the denser scrub, rarely seen in the open, and I had dubbed them "grey ghosts". I say 'grey', because despite the fact that they are indeed mostly light brown, as you can see from the image below, they appear grey. While watching honeyeaters and other bush birds, I would become aware of these females as they moved through the scrub, rarely getting an opportunity to photograph them. Reviewing some of the few shots I did get, I noticed the unmistakable remnants of spiders around their bill (legs), so I'm assuming they're high on the menu at this time of year. During summer these whistlers feed mainly on caterpillars. I only very occasionally saw a male, in fact throughout the winter, I only saw them on rare occasions.

     In early September, I heard the first male calling, and in the ensuing days the numbers of males I observed increased, but mostly they too were deep in the 'shrubbery'. By mid September, the numbers of calling males was significantly higher, and they 'emerged'. Males chased males as they patrolled their chosen site, stopping to call at times from a prominent perch. Not, I suspect, the site where they will breed, but an area where they could show of their singing skills, and attract a mate.The numbers of males in some spots far exceeded the number that will breed there, so perhaps it's not so surprising that the males were so boisterous. The upshot of this was that for a few days my morning walks were full of very strident and persistent calls as the males participated in a singing competition, marking another spring event. Within a week most of these birds had dispersed leaving only the few pairs that will breed there.
   Golden Whistler males are one of the 'showiest' of our native birds, and judging by the numbers of images on the various photo forums, one of the most photographed. I am, however, left with a puzzle. Where do all these male Golden Whistlers hang out during winter?

More on the Early Migrants

Well it's all happening out there, and during the last few weeks, between the showers, I've  had a few close encounters with some of the recently arrived migrant birds, and here they are.
 The most widespread species is the Striated Pardalote (at left). At almost every local venue I've visited, the first sound that has greeted me, has been the persistent "pick it up" call of this pardalote. Considering how many there are about and that they all seem to suddenly appear, I can't recall ever seeing a flock or any gathering of more than half a dozen or so birds. I do recall watching around 20, all gathered in the outer branches of a dead tree in late summer. It had just started to rain after a long dry spell, and they appeared to be 'enjoying' a shower, at least that was my interpretation. The bird pictured had flown, with difficulty, to the top of the post to administer the 'coup de grace' to this caterpillar by bashing the hell out of it. It's certainly a sizable mouthful.
  For many people around the World, the arrival of swallows of one species or another, is considered to be the first sign of spring. Although in Tasmania the vast majority of Welcome Swallows migrate to warmer climes during the colder months, a few pairs hang on and manage to survive, often roosting in buildings. The Welcome Swallow at left had obviously started nest building as the bill is covered in dry mud. They gather mud from pools or other water bodies, and use this to form their nests. 
 
  Often mistaken for swallows are the Tree Martins, particularly in flight. They both hawk for insects in a similar manner, and are often seen together. The white rump and the much shorter tail are  the most obvious differences. The Tree Martin at left, was using an old fence line to rest between forays over the nearby heath. It was still cool and there wasn't much flying insect activity, giving a photo opp.. Frequently nesting in holes in large trees, and seldom needing to come down to ground level, they aren't the easiest to come to grips with.


This year, the Shining Bronze-Cuckoos seem to have arrived particularly early, although a few had obviously overwintered, as I outlined in a previous story. I photographed this one (at right) a few days ago at Pipeclay Lagoon, but I've heard them calling from most local birding spots. Perhaps a little more surprising, was recording my first Pallid Cuckoo in the first few days of September, many more will arrive shortly.
The bronze-cuckoos are small, swift flying birds that are more often heard than seen. From experience, they often call from among the outer foliage of shrubs and trees, and their excellent camouflage makes them difficult to locate. I had the good fortune to find this one while I was photographing pardalotes feeding in low heath. It flew around, occasionally propping in the top of low sun bleached shrubs,and calling. Eventually, and from my perspective, fortuitously, close enough to photograph.