SnapShots: The Account of The Magpie and the Little Eagle

All good tales have a protagonist and of course the antagonist.  From Romeo and Juliet to Jane Eyre, or a Hitchcock movie, the ‘player of the first part’, has always to experience the consequences of decisions.

So as our hero the Little Eagle made its way across the paddocks in the sunshine, oblivious of the dangers, it was soon to learn that not all skies are clear, blue and free.

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SNAPSHOTS: Landing Rights at Cormorant Jetty

You can tell, dear reader, when its a quiet birding day.  And that I’m down at the Point Cook Coastal Park.  When the tide is in, the cormorants, Little Pied and Pied mostly, congregate on an old abandoned pier that orginally served the first Chirnside Homestead in the area.
Now it’s a shadow of its former self, but regularly used by water birds as a safe haven for resting, preening and establishing relationships.

And when there are no other birds on show, well, I settle down on the sand, and watch the comings and goings. Always some new thing to see.

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SNAPSHOTS: The Flight of the Mudlark

Yep, I know they are Pied Lark.  But, ever since I was a little tacker, I’ve been impressed with Muddies—as we used to be allowed to call them.  I think there is an affinity between a young lad, and a bird that makes its stand in a tiny puddle of muddy water alongside the roadway.

There is discussion that they also form the shape for the emblem on the South Australian Flag.  The best designs call it a “Piping Shrike”, a term that was applied at various stages to both Muddies and Australian Magpies.

I really want to get a shot of a pair engaged in their wingflap/flare pair-bonding call.  But I’ve also been following them for such a long time to get a respectable wing shape in flight.

Tis the season for young muddies to show off among their peers and it does make it a little easier to get a close fly past.
We came across a group working over a roadway, and I walked down the fence line to where a female was sitting.  All I had to do was wait till it flew.
Females have the black line down through the eye. Males have a white eyebrow and no white bib.

What I didn’t anticipate was what happened next.

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All in a Day’s Work, at The Office

 

After yesterday’s relatively quiet day, we had planned a day at home as those weather prognosticators were falling over themselves combing their various thesauri for even more gigantic, huge, colossal, mammoth, immense, tremendous, immeasurable, Brobdingnagian(Ye of Gulliver’s Travels will understand),  humongous, astronomic, ginormous words to describe what was to be a weather of mass destruction, headed our way, so we had decided that it would be a doonah day, and we’d sleep through it all.  The patter of rain on the roof and window shutters seemed for once to confirm their cosmic, epic, giant, stupendous, mega predictions.

However as I peeked out from under the protective, shielding, defensive, safety, preventive, insulating, warmth of the doonah, what was it I spied coming in under the window shutters.
Gasp, horror, elation, joy, disbelief.  Was that sunshine.
No prizes Sherlock. It was sunshine.

In quick succession t’was breakfast, pack cameras, (I think there should be a get dressed in there somewhere) pack a thermos of Green Tea, (I’m off the Grey of Earl at present), tuck in the Drizabone Jacket, and head to the Office.  Also we beat the Mother’s School run, so the roads were fairly, rather, a little, slightly, comparatively, after a fashion, reasonably, kind of, sort of ish, quiet.

But the wind across the carpark sang a different tune. Large gusts, of huge, colossal, mammoth, immense, tremendous…. you get the picture… winds that made even the Drizabone Jacket feel a bit challenged.

And what was that on the fence line up the track!

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SNAPSHOTS: Inside Pinky’s World

It says something about the whole day in general when, we set out to find some Flame Robins at Point Cook Coastal Park, and end up spending half an hour with a single Pink-eared Duck.

The plan was to have a look around the old homestead area and see if we could locate any Flame Robins that usually turn up for their winter holiday at the beach. And if we were really lucky, perhaps a Pink Robin, or two—that would be nice.

We met Bernie the ranger on the way in, and he (of the sharp eye), said he’d not seen the usual suspects so far this season.

So we went.

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