As summer draws to a close dawn comes round a little later meaning that I don’t need to get up early. It gives an opportunity to enjoy a leisurely cup of that all important morning coffee and head out.
Wayan or White-faced Heron (Egretta novaehollandiae) greets the new morning. York, Western Australia.
Once down at the river I’m met with sight of the sun just peaking through the clouds and it was a joy to behold. Then the moment is shattered as several hundred Little Corellas take to the air in a whirling squawking mass. Successive waves of birds fly over me each one noisier than the one that preceded it. It was an incredibly intense experience. Eventually the birds all decided to settle in the gum trees along this section of the river bank. Physically they may have settled but their incessant squawking didn’t stop. I was transfixed. I didn’t bother continuing along the river bank I just stayed and watched and photographed.
As the sunrises the Manatj or Little Corellas (Cacatua sanguinea) start to become active.
Then as the sun rises over the horizon the Little Corellas take to the air en masse.
If you are a regular reader you may recall that I recently wrote about having one of those magical days where everything goes right. Well yesterday was the anthesis of that.
Noolarko or Black-faced Cuckoo Shrike (Coracina novaehollandiae) waiting for the clouds to break and the first rays of the sun to light up the day.
We had decided to get up early and walk along the River Avon here in York, so come 5am I bounced out of bed (Haha! As if!) and quickly got dressed. As I quickly had a coffee and piece of toast the rain began to fall. It was one of those summer downpours with big fat lazy raindrops that hit the parched dirt and release that wonderful petrichor. These downpours don’t generally last long and this one was no different so we headed out. On arriving at the river it was quiet, very quiet. In fact unnervingly quite. A complete absence of bird sound apart from a rooster making it’s presence known, but, that doesn’t count. It’s very unusual to be out at dawn and not hear birds singing. I thought normal activity would be resumed when the sun broke through the clouds so we carried on walking. A pair of Black-faced Cuckoo Shrikes perched high up in a dead tree gave me something to point my camera at. Not thrilling photos but a start nonetheless. A bit further on and the clouds had now cleared and we were greeted by a brilliant cobalt blue sky and a steady procession of Galahs flying in formation. I managed to get some photos of them. I’d wanted for ages to get a shot of Galahs flying against a back drop of a brilliant blue sky – the contrast of their pink feathers and the blue. Doing something I never normally do I looked at the rear of the camera and when I saw the sequence of photos I could see that I had achieved that goal. I was at this point feeling rather pleased with myself. The Bible warns us that “Pride comes before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18) and little did I realise that I was about to become literally acquainted with it.
Djakal-ngakal or Galah (Cacatua roseicapilla) fly past.
Turning round we walked back the way we had come and then onto a spot where we could access the river bed. As we broke cover from the bushes we set what seemed like every duck in York flying. Whoops! Then I had this urge to see what if anything was around the corner. When suddenly it happened. You know how people often say that when something catastrophic happens time slows down and everything happens in slow motion? Well that didn’t happen. One minute I’m vertical the next bang and I’m prostrate in the mud with incredible pain shooting up my arm and from my hip. Necessity meant that I just lay still for a bit to see if the pain subsided. I quickly realised at this point that I wasn’t seriously hurt because I was more concerned that my camera had survived the cataclysm than about any injuries I’d sustained. I also became aware of the beloved significant other calling out. She had tried to get over to me but hadn’t got very far as she didn’t want to befall the same fate. Gingerly I got onto all fours and crawled to a firmer spot and got up. I was covered from head to toe in evil smelling river mud – my camera wasn’t much better.
After a dramatic fall while out birding this morning the Olympus EM1x and OM System 100-400mm look a little worse for wear.
Sitting here writing this my camera and I have scrubbed up well. It works perfectly – a testament to ruggedness of Olympus cameras. Me – I’m a bit sore, but there is no major damage.
Note to self: don’t go walking along the river bed just after it has rained – it is very slippy.
… favours the prepared mind.” Louis Pasteur, December 7, 1854, and in 161BC the Roman playwright Terrance said that “fortune favours the brave” in his play Phormio.
All of which basically means that if you have the necessary mind set be bold enough to seize the opportunities that present themselves. That is what happened the other evening. We had found a new possible nesting site for Rainbow Bee-eaters here in York and the beloved significant other suggested we go and have a closer look the other evening. So I picked up my Sony A7r2 with Sigma 150-600mm lens and we drove down to the location. On getting there there was not a Rainbow Bee-eater to be seen. In fact there weren’t many birds about at all. Scanning the tree tops we soon found out why. In the top of a dead tree were a pair of Australian Hobbys. These beautiful birds of prey will take small flying birds so everything had taken cover. The Hobbys looked magnificent against the bright blue sky. I only managed a short burst before they resumed flying up and down the river bank looking for something to eat.
Wowoo or Australian Hobby (Falco longipennis) are often seen in pairs whilst out hunting.
The adapted Sigma 150-600mm doesn’t focus very fast on the Sony A7r2 and the 5 frames per second burst rate isn’t exactly the best, but, it was all good enough for the task in hand.
The other day was was one of those days. Not the sort where everything goes mammaries up and you wish you hadn’t got out of bed. No it was one of those days when everything goes stupendously well – like unbelievably well. The other day was just one of those.
Bulland or Little Egret (Egretta garzetta subsp. nigripes)
Bulland or Little Egret (Egretta garzetta subsp. nigripes) are quite rare up in the Avon Valley although they are common elsewhere.
I was walking along the River Avon in Northam and it was proving to be a fruitful morning. Black-fronted Dotterels, Black-winged Stilts, Dusky Moorhens, and even a rare (well rare in these parts) Little Egret. After a couple of hours of sheer bliss I decided to call it a day and walk back to the car. As I was walking I thought to myself “You know what would cap off a perfect day? A Sacred Kingfisher.” And lo and behold within seconds of thinking that thought one appeared on a branch right in front of me. The best part was it could clearly see me and didn’t give a stuff. I was in raptures! It was hunting for large insects in the grass and every few minutes it would swoop down catch one and return to the branch and eat it. This kept going on for twenty minutes or so. In the end I called it quits after taking hundreds of photos and it stayed there. A brilliant finale to a brilliant day.
A gratuitous shot of a Nidoolyorong or Black-fronted Dotterel (Elseyornis melanops).
This Djandjarak or Black-winged Stilt (Himantopus himantopus) was too busy looking for food to bother about me.
The icing on the proverbial cake. Kanyinak or Sacred Kingfisher (Todiramphus sanctus). Isn’t he magnificent?
Having a bug for breakfast.
Having a laugh.
The last few of weeks I’ve been observing some very interesting bird behaviour (well interesting to me) and I’ve found trying to record it just using photographs wasn’t capturing what was happening. So I’ve decided to shoot more video footage. Up until now I’ve found doing both photography and video very difficult. That’s because I was taught in order to shoot video well you had to have your camera on a tripod, limit your shutter speed to twice that of the frames per second which means faffing around with neutral density filters, use manual focus, take an accurate colour temperature reading and set the camera accordingly, and record good sound. All that takes the spontaneity out of it. If an animal pops up suddenly I like to be able to react in an instant and with stills photography you do that. Video requires (or so I thought) so much preparation that the animal has been and gone. So I came to the conclusion that I only do this for my entertainment so it doesn’t matter if I break “the rules”. So I set my camera up to shoot in programme mode, set auto white balance, auto ISO, I use the camera’s built in microphone for sound, and auto focus. I’m not carrying a tripod so I’m shooting handheld. If I see something interesting I snap off a few photos and then press the video record button. This approach has added a new dimension to my photography and I’ve been very happy with the results so far. Below are a few clips from my brilliant day in Northam.
At this stage in summer most of the birds are busy feeding their young, with the majority about to fledge soon. The constant foraging for food and hunting must be exhausting for the parents especially in the 40ºC + days we’ve been having lately. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve stumbled across a few nests with demanding offspring and I’ve observed a range of different behaviours designed to get food from a parent.
Hungry Kanamit or Welcome Swallow (Hirundo neoxxena) chicks demanding to be fed. Avon Terrace, York, Western Australia.
The food arrives.
The two larger chicks get fed while the little one at the end misses out.
On Avon Terrace, the main drag in York, a lot of the shop fronts have Welcome Swallow nests tucked away in the shade of the verandas. Most people walk along the street under them not even aware of what is happening above them. I spent an hour watching this particular nest. The adults returned every five minutes or so with food for the three chicks. Two chicks got the bulk of the food as is often the case in birds. I don’t know if the little runt of the brood managed to survive until fledging or not.
Kaaka-baaka or Yellow-billed Spoonbill (Platalea flavipes) adolescent demanding food from its parent.
Click to play the video clip.
In Northam, on the banks of the River Avon, I witnessed something I’d never seen before. There were two Yellow-billed Spoonbills in a tree, one a mature adult and the other an adolescent. The adolescent was trying hard to get the parent to regurgitate some food and it did this by first bobbing its head vigorously while flapping its wings. After a while of this it would then start rubbing the parent on the side of its head. The photos don’t do it justice, the video is better.
Djidi-djidi or Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys) chicks that have out grown their nest.
The unusually placid Djidi-djidi or Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys) parent.
Willie Wagtails make incredibly tiny nests – smaller than a tea cup. The typical clutch of eggs is 2-4 which is fine until they hatch and then overcrowding sets in. I spotted this nest while walking back to the car. It looked quite a comical situation – 2 adolescent Willie Wagtails just about ready to fledge crowding round this tiny nest with one in it. All three looked incredible grumpy – it’s the eyebrow and the down turned mouth that gives that impression. One of the parents was sat on a fence post just 5m away closely watching. I was very surprised it didn’t try to chase me off as Willie Wagtails are incredibly aggressive and territorial. Perhaps it was too knocked form taking care of the chicks.
Dryandra Woodland National Park is thirty minute drive from Narrogin or two hours south east of Perth. It is 15,000 hectares of remanent woodland – a taste of what the Wheatbelt was before colonisation. It is the home to some of Australia’s most at risk animals and because of this the Western Shield program was developed to minimise the effects of feral predators – foxes and cats – and allow the native fauna to re-established.
For us Dryandra has attained an almost mythical status. We have been going for years, and we always want to go again. Every time we always have some kind of amazing animal interaction whether it be Wedge-tailed Eagles, Woylies, Echidnas, Ring Tailed Possums or kangaroos.
The Woylie or brush-tailed bettong (Bettongia Penicillata) is a small hopping marsupial that stands approximately 30 cm high and weighs up to 1.6 Kg. Once quite common the population has been decimated by the introduction of foxes and the practice of large scale land clearance. The Dryandra Woodland Reserve is an important part of CALM’s Western Shield project which aims to re-establish the species.
Dryandra is really famous for its Numbats, and in all the years we have been visiting we’ve never seen one. The only Numbat I’ve seen was at Perth Zoo, and they can be tricky to see there too.
A Numbat at Perth Zoo.
This visit the plan was quite simple. After the previous hot day and with another forecast we planned to stake out the Old Mill Dam and try and catch the early morning activity at the waters edge. It was a great morning the only problem photographically was the heat haze over the water, but that only effected the shots where the subject was on the other side of the water. Anything I was close to was pin sharp.
This mother andJoey Yongka or Western Grey Kangaroos (Macropus fuliginosus) were feeding on the side of the track as we entered Dryandra.
Ngoolyak or Carnaby’s Black-cockatoo (Calyptorhynchus latirostris) drinking from the dam.
Miyamit or Yellow-plumed Honeyeater (Ptilotula ornatus).
Djiring-djiring or Restless Flycatcher (Myiagra inquieta). Old Mill Dam, Dryandra.
“I was here before you!!” Miyamit or Yellow-plumed Honeyeater (Ptilotula ornatus) and Djiring-djiring or Restless Flycatcher (Myiagra inquieta). Old Mill Dam, Dryandra.
Djangkang or Red Wattle Bird (Anthochaera carunculata).
Apologies to William Shakespeare – Macbeth Act 2 scene 1
Desperate to get out of the house we grabbed the opportunity to go on an overnight trip to Narrogin. This might surprise people as Narrogin is not really known as a tourist destination and it was forecast to be 40ºC. There was madness in my method. Firstly Narrogin is a good jumping off point for Dryandra (I’ll save that for a later post). Secondly to photograph wildlife in hot weather you really need to find permanent water sources and the locations we’d chosen both had that. Thirdly you have to able to reach those locations at either first or last light. Narrogin fitted the bill. So the plan was to set out mid morning and take a leisurely drive down to Narrogin, get some lunch and check into our accommodation, then about an hour before sunset head out to the Narrogin Railway Dam.
Helen looking for birds. Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
There’s not a lot of water. Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
The water level at the dam was very low, but at least there was some. So we followed the 650m Dam Walk keeping a firm eye on the canopy of the surrounding eucalypts. A lot of the birds we did see appeared very heat stressed – holding their wings out and panting. Nothing appeared to be going down to the water’s edge for a drink though. After our first lap my partner decided as it was still very hot that she’d had enough and went back to the car while I started to walk along part of the Archibald Park Trail. This was where things got very interesting.
A Djakal-ngakal or Galah (Cacatua roseicapilla) feeling the effects of the heat. Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
Kaa-kaa or Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae). Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
Juvenile Delyip or Red-capped Parrot (Platycercus spurius). Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
Noolarko or Black-faced Cuckoo Shrike (Coracina novaehollandiae). Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
Now I’m in my 60’s and my eyesight isn’t what it once was. This has led to quite a few embarrassing moments when searching for birds. Like the time I followed this small white object moving erratically along a beach thinking it was a dotterel, but, when I finally got close I found it was a scrunched up white paper bag. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve stalked what I thought was a bird in a tree only to find out it was part of a dead branch. In fact I’ve come to expect that will happen every time I go out. Well this time I was walking along the path by the bank of the dam and I’d just seen a Black-faced Cuckoo Shrike and a Red Wattle Bird when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a tree with what could be if I squinted a bit a largish bird. My initial reaction come on be serious you’re seeing things again it’s a dead bit of tree. So instead of stalking it I decided to keep walking. It was only just a I drew parallel with the tree that I noticed that the stick blinked (Pro wildlife tip #1 sticks don’t blink).
A Djoowi or Tawny Frogmouth (Podargus strigoides) doing stick impressions. Narrogin Railway Dam, Western Australia.
“Oh my goodness!” Or words to that effect. I had just found a Tawny Frogmouth. Now although Frogmouths are quite common they are a tricky bird to find. Their camouflage is incredible and their habit of roosting in the forks of trees makes them very difficult to see. Their main defence is to sit completely with their head up and eyes shut pretending to be a stick. In fact this was only the third time I’d seen one in the wild. To say I was happy would be an understatement. Unlike metal detectorists birders don’t dance when they find something – we might allow ourselves a quiet smile. I went to bed that night a very happy boy.
So, day one of the birding trip had a brilliant start – couldn’t ask for better.
Events at home over the last few weeks have meant that I haven’t had the opportunity to do very much photography. Most of the blog entries are written a few weeks before they are published because of the vagaries of finding wildlife so that backlog came in handy for when I couldn’t get out and about. But now the well has run dry.
Crusader bug (Mictis profana) instar nymph.
What little photography I have done recently has been in our back garden. Thankfully we have quite a lot of wildlife visit that I can point a camera at. Most of it has been of the usual suspects, the more common species that can be found in gardens in this part of the world, but there have been a couple of unexpected visitors which was very nice. For the best part of a year we had a problem with stray cats killing a lot of the birds and reptiles. But one of our neighbours has taken the main culprit in and the wildlife numbers are climbing back to what they were.
Wall Skink or Fence Skink (Cryptoblepharus buchananii) cooling off in the bird bath.
Yoorn or Bobtailed Lizard (Tiliqua rugosa)
Kanyinak orSacred Kingfisher (Todiramphus sanctus) on our TV aerial with a freshly caught Bombay Runner (Periplaneta americana).
Bambon or Rufous Whistler (Pachycephala rufiventris). It is a joy to hear this bird sing every morning.
Nye-nye or Zebra Finch (Taeniopygia guttata) looking for food on the back lawn
Djida or Yellow-rumped Thornbill (Acanthiza chrysorrhoa).
Cabbage White Butterfly, Pieris rapae.
Giant grasshopper or hedge grasshopper (Valanga irregularis) resting on the garden fence.
The garden provided a great deal of solace over a difficult time and it always amazes me how restorative being in nature can be. Hopefully, over the coming weeks we’ll be able to get out and about more.
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