Little Gems...... Southern Emu-wren

I thought it was time I ventured farther afield, and with the run of great weather last week, I headed to the Gordon Road and into the South West National Park. Well it nearly didn't happen as the clear weather around Hobart, turned to heavy mist and later thick fog in the Derwent Valley, but more in hope than expectation, I pressed on, and I'm glad I did.

I finally drove clear of the fog at the Thumbs lookout, the highest point on the Gordon Road, and the weather beyond was fine, still and without a cloud in the sky. Time to start birding. I made several stops along the road, mostly alongside button grass plains, in search of one of my favourites, Striated Fieldwrens, and I wasn't disappointed. Although these birds are found widely around the state, my 'mental' picture of them is in these plains, singing from the tops of button grass stems, particularly during spring. But I'm digressing.

On one of these 'birding' stops, I
caught sight of an orange blob in a distant flowering banksia. I had hit 'pay dirt'! A single Southern Emu-wren, but I was sure there would be more. The area was beyond a drainage ditch on the edge of a vast button grass plain and among stunted burnt tea tree and hakea, cutting grass and sedges, with the odd regrowth bushy banksia marginata. It was extremely boggy. Pulling on gum boots I slopped my way towards them, trying hard, and failing, to avoid the ends of the burnt tea trees.

In an area of less than an acre and
all within 30 metres of the road, I found 2, possibly 3, family groups of Emu Wrens and I spent the next hour or so watching them as they went about their business. I say watching, but in reality, I spent more time watching the movement of grasses and shrubbery, as they hunted for insects, occasionally climbing higher to look around. All this was possible because of the total stillness of the day. By "pishing" and "squeaking", I occasionally managed to entice them close enough to get some images, but to say they were shy is an understatement, they mostly just observed me through the grass. Infrequently they gave a single note call, not unlike a pipit's, and for a while I thought there must be some other species present too. They spent some of the time on the ground, searching around the edges of the numerous pools, but never more than 'inches' from cover. In the past I've noted that they usually carried their long fine tail feathers 'cocked', but as you can see from the images, they weren't. Perhaps this is related to the breeding season being over. Late morning the action just stopped, and I have no idea where they disappeared to, but I know from experience they have a great ability to hide in clumps of cutting grass for extended periods and I just counted myself fortunate to have enjoyed their company. I sploshed my way back to the car, covered in much mud and bearing the 'scars' from burnt shrubbery, but feeling exhilarated and very content.

Southern Emu-wrens are by no means rare in Tasmania, but they can be difficult to locate. Much of the west and south west coast is arguably their stronghold, but they're also found in highland areas far from the coast.

Visit from an Escapee!

Several times lately I've heard a bird call that I couldn't identify, from somewhere close to my house. Frustratingly, I had failed to even locate it. That was until yesterday afternoon. Sitting in front of my PC with doors and windows open, I heard a nearby commotion. Something had the local Noisy Miners and Little Wattlebirds stirred up and I went outside to investigate.

Clearly their focus was on next door's Ash tree, but equally obviously it was deep among the foliage. I had searched for several minutes without success when a bird shot out of the tree and down the garden. I had a fleeting view of a beautiful green parrot, quite large and a great flyer, as it sped away.

Early this morning, I heard that call again, this time from my own garden. I grabbed a camera and a quick search revealed that it was in an angophora. I closely approached that tree, but again failed to find it before it took off, screeching, disappearing over adjacent gardens. Shrugging my shoulders and trudging back towards the house, somewhat disappointed, I happened to look towards a neighbour's Coral Gum, and there it was! Well I guess I shouldn't get too excited, it is after all an escapee, most probably an Alexandrine's Parakeet. It seems to lack some of the markings of that species, but perhaps it's a young bird. Maybe there's someone out there who might put me straight if that's incorrect. Alexandrine's is a native of India, but a fairly commonly kept aviary bird. I'm not a fan of cage birds, but I suspect this individual may not survive long in the wild, certainly if the local miners and wattlebirds have any say. [It appears to actually be a female Rose-ringed Parakeet--also from the Indian sub-continent--my thanks to Neil, see comments]

Beautiful as this bird may be, introduced bird species often end up as pests. Many owe their presence in the wild, to aviary escapes. Some threaten our own bird species. The Rainbow Lorikeet springs to mind as a species that interbreeds with native species and has the potential to do serious damage to fruit crops. The cost of eradication, if this problem is not dealt with quickly, could be enormous.

"Fat Man" and Robin

Monday morning and hankering to go out birding before the rain forecast for the rest of the week. The 'mountain' was clear; to Hobartians the 'mountain' refers to Mt. Wellington that is often a good indication of weather to come. So I headed off to one of the many walking tracks on the mountain. It was still early and quite mild as I climbed towards the Organ Pipes (a rock feature of the Mtn.) and it at least sounded promising with the still air filled with the familiar sound of calling Crescent Honeyeaters. Although these honeyeaters are not really flocking birds, during autumn they are often found in groups just after sunrise, calling loudly. Loudly enough in fact to drown out all other bird calls. Most appeared to be juveniles and soon started to disperse through the light scrub, some feeding on the flowering banksia, some chasing flying insects and yet others, mostly males, chasing each other. A few Tasmanian Scrubwren quietly disappeared into the scrub as I approached, emerging soon after I'd passed, but this promising start was cut short by light rain, followed by increasing wind and I beat a retreat to the car. Somewhat frustrated, and hoping that the rain was only around the mountain, I decided to try the nearby Waterworks Reserve which is more sheltered and at a lower altitude.

I drove to the far car park and headed off. Almost immediately stopping to ID a bird call that I was sure I knew but couldn't place. Eventually the 'penny dropped', it was a Bassian Thrush, well actually three, presumably males announcing occupation of their respective territories. I've rarely seen these birds at this reserve, although I suspect they're quite common here, and as they continued to call, headed off in 'pursuit'. Before I could get a good bearing on them, they stopped calling, and light rain began to fall. I wandered on, hoping that it would improve, it didn't. I took shelter in the scrub alongside the track under towering gums.

It proved to be a good move, not perhaps photographically, but certainly for birding. Perhaps insects were being disturbed by the light rain, perhaps the birds were taking shelter too, whatever, I was soon 'surrounded' by numerous birds. Strong-billed Honeyeaters overhead, Silvereyes 'tanging' their way through the shrubs, The occasional Tasmanian Thornbill scolded me, as did several scrubwrens. Grey Fantails flitted round me, as did the Golden Whistler pictured, often coming within a few feet of me. Very exciting and it was difficult to know where to look next!

After the initial excitement, I began hoping for a chance to get a few shots, despite the appallingly poor light for photography. A weak call that sounded like the contact call of a distant Dusky Robin, grabbed my attention, and on a dead branch lower down the slope I spotted a small bird that by it's 'rotundness' I realised was a Beautiful Firetail. I immediately named it "fat man". I managed to get a few usable shots of this juvenile firetail as it sat forlornly calling, to no avail, for the next several minutes. I had hoped its' parents might put in an appearance, but they didn't. A 'real' Dusky Robin call heralded the appearance of a family group of 4 or 5 of them, as they foraged around for insects, occasionally coming close enough for a photo. opp., before the arrival of a group of Grey-shrike Thrush caused them a brief panic. They too were after insects, sometimes on the ground, but more often on the trunks of the gums. The robins were soon back, and a juvenile Fan-tailed Cuckoo put in a brief appearance, but the rain persisted and, reluctantly, I headed back to the car. An excellent morning's birding despite, or perhaps because of, the weather, giving me enough memories to last me through a very wet week.

Dusky Robins and More

I've walked around a nearby reserve on numerous occasions lately, mainly because it's flat and easy walking as I'm still trying to throw off a persistent chest infection. I feel I'm on nodding terms with some of the feathered inhabitants, but have refrained so far from giving them individual names; it's tempting, but my imagination doesn't stretch that far. The upside of walking the same areas regularly is that it gives the observer an insight into the daily lives and movements of some species.

Their presence or otherwise seems, probably predictably, linked largely to temperature. On a cold morning I've usually found several species foraging on the ground, even species like Dusky Woodswallows and Tree Martins that are normally found hawking in flight. Insects grounded, birds seek insects on ground!

Dusky Robins, a Tasmanian endemic, are almost exclusively ground feeders, although they will chase the odd flying insect, or pick at insects on bark. Surprisingly, they take their share of skinks (small lizards) too.
On most mornings, I hear their mournful two note contact call, as family groups move through the light bush. The young still showing a few rufous feathers as they 'emerge' from the juvenile plumage. On one recent morning, I decided to observe them more closely and stood amongst the scrub just watching, taking the odd photograph as the opportunity offered. They spend much of their time on a low branch or stump, usually facing the sun and just watching for any movement among the woodland debris. Dropping down and seizing their prey, often returning to a perch to consume it. On the menu this particular morning appeared to be mostly small grubs. Their grey brown plumage matches the surroundings all too well (from my perspective) and I missed several good photographic opportunities as I'd failed to notice a close approach until they moved on.

Nearby I occasionally caught sight of a pair of Scarlet Robins; the female coming close enough to photograph; feeding in much the same style as the Duskys, although they often picked insects off the acacia leaves, as did small flocks of Superb Fairy-wrens, Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills and Silvereyes. Unlike the Dusky Robins, which forage widely through the woodland, the several pairs of Scarlet Robin at this venue rarely move far from their territories, and are present, with males announcing their occupation, all year round.

At one point the bush went silent, and from experience this usually means that a predator is present. I had earlier heard the unmistakable Brown Falcon "kekeke" call as one flew over, and Forest Ravens can sometimes have a similar effect, and there was no lack of them. But I'd had a very brief view of a bird landing in a nearby pine, and although through the binoculars I could only see a portion of the bird, it was enough to confirm that it was a Brown Goshawk. It had presumably seen me too as it flew off. After such events the bush can remain silent for a good while and I was considering moving on, but luck must have been with me, as a juvenile Fan-tailed Cuckoo almost immediately flew into the area. I took a few shots, in hope more than expectation in the mottled light. As I stood there reviewing the recently taken images, I noticed a movement to my right and there in all its' glory was an adult Fan-tailed Cuckoo right in front of me! Time for a few shots before it too moved on. I decided that I'd probably used up all my good fortune and it was time to get back to review my handiwork on my PC. A very interesting morning.

Pied Oystercatcher Roost.

I hadn't been out birding for several days, and in some frustration, finally chose a less than optimal day to try my luck and drove down to the Lauderdale Spit. With the temperature in single digits and a gale force wind blowing, as it had for the last week, it probably wasn't the best spot for someone suffering a debilitating chest complaint, but I persevered.
As you might guess, most birds had found a more sheltered spot, but it did highlight one significant issue--the importance of this area of Ralph's Bay to Pied Oystercatchers. The Australian population of this oystercatcher is estimated at around 10,000 individuals, and on this small spit I counted 353, and there may have been others I missed hunkered down in the vegetation. That's well over 3% of the entire (World) population. Many of these birds would normally roost in other bays, but the severe weather and high tides meant that this was one of the few roost sites left.
In some states the Pied Oystercatcher is on the "threatened" list, mainly due to habitat loss and human disturbance. The recent failed attempt to develop this area for canal style housing, shows just how easily this can occur.
I was able to get close enough to take a few shots without disturbing the flock--important at any time, more so in the conditions--and the image shows a small part of the roost.

Photo Opp....Musk Lorikeets

This is one photo opportunity that I gladly pass on! At the moment, in almost any Hobart suburb, you'll find the eucalyptus ficifolia flowering. Their attractive bright red to pink flowers are at their peak, and you can't miss them and neither do the local Musk Lorikeets.
I've chosen a few images from the umpteen that I've taken in the last few days. Even if you're not into photography, it's worth spending a while just watching these stunningly coloured parrots. Within a kilometre of my home there must be a dozen or more of these flowering gums, most with a swag of feeding lorikeets, I even have one in my garden, unfortunately not the easiest to access for photography (poor planning on my part!). The Musks tend to feed early morning and late afternoon, but you'll probably find a few at any time of day. Choose a tree in bright conditions to best show off the colourful mix of flowers and bird. Be patient, approach the tree slowly, they'll usually quickly accept your presence, keep still and you're in business. You'll probably need to take quite a few shots to get a worthwhile image as they are fast moving feeders and often feed hanging upside down.
If you spend time watching, you'll note that most are paired, and you can't fail to note their constant contact calls, occasionally punctuated by screeching as they squabble. Several birds exhibited eye damage, and I saw several birds fly into nearby windows, particularly in overcast conditions.
You may at times find the noise all too much! I've included the shot at above left to show a lorikeet "shivering" with tail fanned, this is a threat display, probably a bird getting too close to its' other half. This is sometimes followed by chasing, but seldom any serious confrontations and is over quickly.
I suspect that those living in close proximity to these flowering gums may not be as enthusiastic about them as I am! Their screeching can be pretty wearing. But this eucalypt has a short flowering season and peace will return soon.
[I've posted other images on my pbase site, link at right]

Alice Springs Interlude Pt.1

In the Spring of 2010 (late Sept-early Oct) My son, Matthew and I spent 10 days in the Alice Springs area. As many birders would be aware, the "Red Centre" had in 2010, one of the highest rainfall in many years, and we took the opportunity to bird and photograph in the general area of Alice Springs. While I'm in the throes of deciding the blog's future, I thought I'd take the opportunity to post shots of some of the birds we saw. Because of the rain, the desert had vast swathes of plants and shrubs, many of them in flower, which in turn had attracted large numbers of birds, many of them breeding. A fantastic trip.


Part one shows Babblers and Robins.

Photographers Please Note!!

During the last few weeks I've come across several would be bird photographers. I can say with some believe that they are readers of this blog as they seem to be visiting the same areas that I've written about, so on the face of it I should be pleased! Nonetheless their activities have caused me some angst. If your going to involve yourself in this pursuit there is a need to understand it comes with some "rules". If you use playback, use it sparingly, not for extended periods. Don't sit near birds that are nesting for extended periods--in this day of digital imagery, it's quite unnecessary anyway to photograph at nest sites and impinges on the activities of the birds. Don't unnecessarily disturb roosting birds. One photographer returned to the same nest site for at least three days, and was surprised that the birds had apparently "disappeared". In talking to a few of them, they appear to have only a rudimentary knowledge of birds, so I suspect they lack the understanding of the need to learn the skills that pertain to bird friendly photography. Too many appear to only be interested in their photography with no concern for the birds.
The welfare of the birds should be paramount in your approach to photography.

Season's Greetings

Have a good one! Stay safe


Image of Tree Martin taken at Goat Bluff, South Arm. A few pairs have nessted in the cliffs for many years.

Lauderdale Spit....recent visitors

In the past few weeks I've often stopped off at the Lauderdale Spit for a quick visit, usually while en route to other venues on the South Arm Peninsula. I'm often lured there by the sight of roosting Bar-tailed Godwits, clearly observable from a moving car, but for the first time in several years, they have been been 'missing'. I've had to settle for the occasional Caspian Tern, or the scores of Pied Oystercatchers that regularly roost on the spit.
So I was delighted to find a few migrants have recently taken up residence, at least temporarily, on the spit, and have managed to photograph them as you can see by the accompanying images.
Last Summer two Grey-tailed Tattler and two Red Knot spent much of the Summer on this small peninsula, so it's interesting to speculate whether the two Knot and the solitary Tattler are the same birds. I suspect they probably are.
I've spent a good while watching them as they feed and although the Knot and Tattler are of a similar size they're after quite different prey. The Tattler seems only interested in the small crabs that abound in the shallow water. The Knot appear to be mainly interested in small molluscs, which they find by probing the mud, also usually in shallow water. Both species swallow the prey whole.
I've only seen an Eastern Curlew on one occasion at the spit this summer, and managed a distant shot before it flew down to the bay to the south, which is its' preferred feeding area. It was once common to see 10 or more Curlew feeding in this bay, but numbers have seriously declined and it's rare to see more than a solitary bird there nowadays.
Yesterday, I noticed the 2 Knot were roosting with the 70 or so Red-necked Stint alongside the highway, and sought a closer view. It's possible to get quite close to the stint while walking along the edge of the highway. Not the most 'restful' birding, with cars only a few metres away! Observing through the tall grass
I could see the stint and several pairs of Red-capped Plover, and noted a Black-fronted Plover among them. The latter is a bird usually found around the margins of fresh or brackish water, and locally most frequently found around farm dams and similar, so it was surprising to find it among the stint and in a salt water environment. This was a 'first' for me at Lauderdale and I was pleased to get the accompanying image.

Whistlers Galore

Whistlers were the highlights of 2 recent outings. At this time of year, in their chosen habitats, these two species are often the dominant songsters. The Golden Whistler is common in many of the more open forested areas, but often "encroaches" into denser, wetter, scrubby areas, preferred by the Olive Whistler. On forest edges and along stream sides, the two seem to co-habit quite amicably.
I must have photographed male Golden Whistlers on numerous occasions, but I never knock back the chance to try again. Fortunately they're among the easiest bush birds to photograph at this time of year, calling from favoured perches, and often allowing close approach. Males spend a great deal of time chasing other males while they're establishing their territories.
I recently saw 8 males in a melee during an early morning walk in the Risdon Brook Park on Hobart's eastern shore, but once they've established their territories, their 'battles' are limited to calling. I've noted that they frequently react to other birds calling, and seem to try to 'drown' them out, and anyone standing close to a calling male can attest to the strength of the call.
Olive Whistlers occupy generally denser, often wetter habitats, commonly along stream sides. Whereas the 'goldens' are extroverts, the olives are generally retiring, calling from within the vegetation. I did witness, or perhaps more accurately. I heard a vocal duel recently on the edge of the Sandspit River in the Wielangta Forest. Three calling olive males, chased one another among the tea tree thickets, giving me only the occasional glimpse of them. One must have taken pity on me, and stopped for a photo opp., and I scrambled the accompanying shot, taken close to my photographic gear's limits. I have been to this spot along the stream side many times and rarely miss out on recording them, albeit often only from a single call. Golden Whistlers are common here too. I spent an hour or so in the area, recording, among others, Strong-billed and Yellow-throated Honeyeaters, Pink Robin, Scrubtit and Tasmanian Scrubwren, leaving when the wind rose and finally quietened the whistlers.
The Sandspit River track at the northern end has become somewhat overgrown, no doubt due to the rain and lack of use while the road bridge has been closed. The good news is that work is finally being carried out to reconstruct the bridge, the bad news, for me at least, was that I managed to pick up 4 leeches as I pushed my way along the track. I didn't discover this for some hours later and after they had gorged on my blood (top stuff). A reminder to take more precautions next visit.