David Jenkins

Studio Werkz: A Step back in Time

April 29, 2020Posted in Brown Falcon, Studio Werkz, WTPTagged Brown Falcon, Studio Werkz, Western Treatment Plant, WTP10 Comments

For those new readers, Studio Werkz, was the proposed name of a ‘Studio Alliance”, by a group of photographers ever-so-long ago. I’ve blogged here about the formation and dissolution, (all in 24hours), so won’t belabour here.

However everytime I get the chance to make a portrait of a bird, I find myself pondering why studio offers so many opportunities to bring out the character of the subject.

It is about lighting, it is about backdrop and it is about the magic moment when the subject no longer is “having a portrait taken”, but allows an insight into their life. A sparkle in the eye, a wry grin, leaning forward, turning the body everso slightly, and there is the magic moment.

It’s like as one of my early mentors would say, “Like eavesdropping on a special moment. Developing a real sensitivity for a feeling that says so much. The lens, the camera, the lighting all are forgotten, it is the reaction that speaks visually.”

On my very first ever trip to the Western Treatment Plant many years back, I’d been travelling about the Plant with a very experienced birdo who graciously gave me a wonderful introduction to the area—so much so that I registered for access the following morning.

However, I hadn’t managed to achieve any significant pictures during our day, as we had little time to work with the birds.

After I picked up my car and was driving along 29 Mile Road on the way home, I spied this Brown Falcon sitting on the post in the late evening sunshine. Hesitantly I parked, and eased out of the vehicle, 500mm lens and beanbag.
Would Brown stay?

Now the falcons in the area are pretty used to vehicles speeding past, or even stopping, and have at least a passing tolerance for the human condition. Although what they really think of us is debatable. Three things they they do give credit for, are lovely well spaced perching spaces, mice and rabbits.

Brown held.

And so I began to move about to get the best light, angle, and backdrop. And for a brief moment it took me all in.
That was the going home shot.

Not more than a minute later, a vehicle approached and Brown felt the pressure and sniffing a light breeze turned and was gone.

Enjoy

Remain

Davyyd.

Saturday Evening Post #79: A Day, Like No Other

April 25, 2020April 26, 2020Posted in Flame Robin, Saturday Evening PostTagged Flame Robin, Saturday Evening Post6 Comments

Today is ANZAC Day, 2020. Normally, at least, there would be assemblies of people around the country, honouring the memory of our fallen defense forces.

A dawn service at 6:00am is a tradition that came to the day because of its military heritage. Not unusual for whole families, grandies to grandkids, and great greats, to be gathered together in the quiet of pre-dawn. One day a year. The clink of medals well earned, the comrades in arms catching up a few ‘hellos’ in hushed words. The ringing of Laurence Binyon’s immortal words. “They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old; Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them.”

Then the trumpet call to “Reveille” and “The Last Post”. A minute of Silence.

Next, in most locations a march through the city of those that remain. More greetings, more community gatherings and more shared stories.
Twoup games, and Football.

This year, we found ourselves at the end of the driveway, in the cool of the morning, candles, and lights along the street, people hushed and reverent, and the Last Post rolling down the street from various sound systems.

I like first light. Some might be wary of it, but to me it has always been a comforting, protective time. Enveloped in the darkness, I watch as the first glimmers of light rolls up the day.

A new phase. Deng Ming-Tao, writes, “As we enter a new phase of our lives, the parameters change. We need to revamp ourselves according to our situations. The continuing act of creativity keeps us going.
Learning is the fountain of youth,
No matter how old you are,
You mustn’t stop growing.”

I’d picked this image to follow the one of Mr. Mighty last week. I wonder if you picked why?

It’s a visual thing. The branch this lass is perched on, is the same one Mr. Mighty was made on last week.

I think she might be the matriarch of the travelling party that season. It’s only anecdotal, but it seems to me that a female kept the group focused and moving. A few calls from her and the main group would move on to the next location. The males play little part in it, as they are quiet until its time to return back to the high country and take up summer territories.

The year I took this, (2011), she was looking after a flock of around 15-20. 4 males, 5-6 females and 10 or so young birds, in various stages of moulting into their new dress.

To all my fellow stay-at-homers, I hope all is well, you’re still creative, and still finding new ways of learning and acting.

Remain

Davyyd

Saturday Evening Post #78 : Brightening up a Cold Dreary Day

April 18, 2020Posted in Uncategorized8 Comments

I first met this bird and his good lady, while I was working the Backpaddock at Woodlands Historic Park.
In those days I’d often bump into a birding friend, Ray, somewhere along the track.
Ray had been walking the Woodlands area for quite a number of years and knew just about every honeyeater spot, robin territory, Brown Falcon feeding area, and eagle’s lair over the park. I used to think that a White-throated Treecreeper announced his presence in the area.
He graciously shared his wide knowledge of the park, and most of what I knew about the various robins at Woodlands was handed to me by Ray.

We would occasionally catch up at the gate entrance to the enclosed Backpaddock—this is in the days before it became the infamous “Bandicoot Hilton”— and its usefulness to the birds waned; what I learned from that is that is if you mess with one part of the ecology to satisfy one species, don’t be surprised if things go out of kilter elsewhere.

As we stood near the little map shelter talking, Mr. Mighty would come and sit on one of the close branches, and listen so it seemed, to our discussions. He would turn his head, fly closer, walk along a branch to get nearer and occasionally add a cheery, “drrrt, drrrt, drrrt”, call to the conversation.

His territory extended from near the gateway some 50-60 metres into the open Grey Box forest beyond. It was not unusual to sit on a log in the area and within a few minutes Mr. Mighty would drop by for a visit. So over several good seasons I managed some interesting moments with him, and the good lady, and their offspring. It wasn’t unusual for her to build 3-5 nest sites and pretend to be working on them all, mostly I guess to kept predatory ravens, magpies and cuckoo-shrikes confused.
She would, however, lose several nestings to these relentless marauders. Perhaps as many as 5 clutches would be started, but only one or possibly two would be successful.

Those who go back to the days of Bird Observers and Conservation Australia, (BOCA) might remember seeing this shot as the penultimate cover of Bird Observer (Aug 2011, No. 870) the quarterly magazine of BOCA just before the merger to form BIrdLife Australia.

During the past week, I’ve been rebuilding my photo database and among other surprises managed to find a folio of Mr. Mighty. Put a smile on my face.

Enjoy

Remain

Davyyd.

Mr. Mighty
The little white facial cheek feather is the best id marker. (Apart from his confiding nature) When this was published, it was reversed,

Little Visits: The Earmuff Tern

April 16, 2020April 16, 2020Posted in White-winged Tern, WTPTagged White-winged Tern, WTP6 Comments

Around November-December, a flock of Terns visits the Western Treatment Plant and stays over a few months, begin to colour up for breeding, before heading northwards for their territories somewhere in Eurasia.

One of their most endearing markings is a bar of black feathers across the back of the neck, that looks like Earmuffs.

They used to be called “White-winged Black Terns”. Useful name, as when coloured up for breeding they have jet black bodies and white wings. Simples.
Not so for the namers of names, now they are called, much more usefully, you’d agree, “White-winged Tern”.

The numbers have been consistent over the few years I’ve been following them, and 30-40 birds are not unusual. They are a little smaller than Whiskered Terns, and they do seem to flock with their similarly usefully-named cousins. The WTP is some 10,000 hectares, so trying to locate 30 or so birds can be the needle-in-the-haystack kind of proposition, but as they mostly favour the ponds nearer the beach areas, the challenge is reduced at least a bit.

This year for some reason, the numbers were down, and it was obvious that we weren’t going to see the range of colouring occuring as in past years. Then to make the job, “Roll down the Shutters, and turn off the Lights”, the WTP was closed for visitors when the ‘Until Further Notice” notice was added to the gates and the locks changed. Got the message.

We did manage a couple of days with good light, a day or two with not so good light, and an evening that progressively became unworkable, so I’ve not been able to add substantially to the world’s collection of photos of the “Earmuff Tern”.

Enjoy

Remain

Davyyd.

Saturday Evening Post #77 : The Hound, the Horse and the Turtle Dove

April 11, 2020April 11, 2020Posted in Saturday Evening Post7 Comments

“Hey, I was thinking about you last night!”

Steve is the barista at the nearby coffee shop, “The Global Local”. Steve and Zoe have managed to keep their business going, but have had to layoff staff. EE and I have made their coffee an essential part of our essential grocery shopping forays- it is essential for a number of reasons. Steve is also a pastry chef and some of his pies, muffins, banana bread and my fav a Rhubarb and Apple tart— Gluten Free of course—can turn a good morning into a great morning.

“So,” I asked, “What bought that on?”

“I was watching Chicken Run on the tv last night and thought of you trying to sneak out of the village to drop by for a coffee.” “Have you thought about building an aeroplane?”

It’s stuff like that which builds up a feeling of community, even if in a small way. In a similar fashion EE and I have been sticking close to the local shops and helping to keep them running. Small it might be, but hopefully, we are as they say, “all in it together”.

The Global Local has been a regular weekend midmorning meeting place for a number of our village friends, and it would not be unusual for about a dozen or so to be enjoying, the food, the drink, and the camaraderie of joyful conversation.

So while we all do our doona-hermit thing, there are little glimpses of a life beyond the reality of the moment.

Sitting alone, sipping Steve’s best Cappuccino, I turned to another distraction. Henry Thoreau’s account of two years living at Walden Pond, Walden

I suspect that many of the baby boomers at one time or another read or at least glanced through the book. In my notebook I came across a quote on his work, ““Walden, after all, is a kind of how-to guide, a self-help book for aspiring eremites”, I am regrettably not to sure of the source.

I also suspect that for most readers, his aspiration, he was after all one the early ‘transcendentalists” , hard line would be too much to pursue for a long time. (although, truth be told, I do/did know of a number over the years that threw an attempt at it.) And I also suspect that re-reading it over the years that only the ‘highlights’ were taken on board, and the more difficult thoughts were either misunderstood or ignored, again I speak from experience. 🙂

One quote that was underlined early in my copy is this quote:

I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle-dove, and am still on their trail. Many are the travelers I have spoken concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they answered to. I have met one or two who have heard the hound, and the tramp of the horse, and even seen the dove disappear behind a cloud, and they seemed as anxious to recover them as if they had lost them themselves.

A mystical, if not metaphorical account. It seems our hounds, horses and doves have indeed flown for the moment. There is talk of what it will take to bring our world back. Perhaps Thoreau was right, we are not the only ones searching for what seems to be lost.

Don’t blame Steve, or his coffee, I managed this all by myself on a cold blustery day.

Good luck to all my fellow doona-hermits and may peace come on healing wings.

There is always another person to share the music with.

April 9, 2020April 9, 2020Posted in Playing for Change, Robbie Robertson, The Weight13 Comments

Ok, I agree, this has little to do with birds or the like.
But over on The Online Photographer, Mike Johnson brought this to my attention.
Its over a year old, but the philosophy behind the production is even more relevant to the challenges we presently face.

Having loved the song for ever, it was quite moving to see and hear the world-wide montage of various artists all bringing their special feel to the song.
By the way, it also changed my mind about how good a artist Ringo Starr really is.

And as a added bonus, Bob Marley’s house makes a cameo appearance toward the end.

Also in case you missed it. Robbie Robertson wrote the song.

For bonus points, have a search for the Making of The Weight.

Making the Weight Part 1

Making The Weight Part 2

Hope it puts a humm in your day.

Thanks to Playing for Change for bringing it all together.

Remain

Davyyd.

The Fine Art of Feeding

April 8, 2020April 8, 2020Posted in Black-shouldered KiteTagged Black-shouldered Kite4 Comments

Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to collect a few Black-shouldered Kite feeding routines.

It always involves the male of the pair doing the hunting. Often times the female will fly out meet him and take it from him in the air.

It seems to me there are at least three techniques used by the birds.

1. Scary: He hangs motionless in the air with the mouse presented on an extended foot. She sweeps in at a great speed, flips upside down, claws out, and takes the mouse. The stress on his leg must be quite large as this a non-stop movement.
2. Dainty: Again he hangs midair, she lines up from underneath and plucks the mouse with her beak. She is practically motionless at the point of contact.
3. Easy, but under pressure. This is always a branch transfer. The main reason I think is that it might be easier on the male, but most times its because of prying eyes circling about to see what chance they have of taking off with a free lunch. Usually once it has been transferred she will sit mantling the food until she feels safe to deal with it.

When the young are very small, Mum will prepare the food, and then go to the nest and feed small pieces to each of the youngsters. As they grow, she delivers, but they feed, and before fledgling Dad will deliver straight to the nest. The young will share the meal.

Once they are on the wing, some feeding takes place on the nest, and as they grow more confident in the air, the male will hang the mouse down and give the young a chance to hone their flying skills. It has to be said that a hungry young one is more enthusiasm than skill, but that improves rapidly. In the end they can gracefully take it from his dangling claw.

So let’s illustrate some of those techniques.

Transfering from a branch. She has rushed in and nearly knocks him from the branch.

The female, mantling over a mouse as a squadron of Black Kites waits for an opportunity to help themselves.

With no flight skills to speak of this is not going to go well for the young one.

Juvenile, “Hold still Dad, I’ve got it.”

You can’t fly through Dad to get to the mouse

All wings, legs and loud voice, but the angle of attack is all wrong

Monday Morning Musing: Surprise!

April 6, 2020April 6, 2020Posted in Black-shouldered KiteTagged Black-shouldered Kite11 Comments

Funny how somethings just catch up on you, when you least it expect it.

A few days ago, I’d left the Black-shouldered Kite nesting area with a few shots of the two just-fledged juveniles sitting on top of a tree. Also had the feeling that it would be the last we’d see of them due to the travel restrictions and the like that were about to settle in.

However as EE had not been out for the week, I had need to do both grocery shopping and also we were both in need of some well earned ‘exercise’, and we decided to combine both activities into the one trip.

We thought the local park to crowded and restricted, so to relieve the pressure on that location we motored on a little further.
I must admit to feeling much more secure in the middle of a 40 acre paddock than pushing a shopping trolley around a bustling supermarket.
No one at the carpark on our arrival, so we set off through the scrub.

Well, fancy that. What a surprise; we were in the area of the nesting Black-shouldered Kites. 🙂

What was even more astounding, and taking tongue-out-of-cheek for a few seconds, was that there sitting in the tree together, enjoying the morning sunshine, was not two juveniles, but three!

The one on the left in this shot, seems much darker and richer brown, so I suspect it is a couple of days behind the others, as they have already begun to lose some of that lovely ginger colour.

So clever mum had not only survived all the heavy rain, hail, strong winds and cold snap, but had hatched three young ones for her trouble.
We waited a few minutes before moving on, and one of the older ones took to the air. Bonus.

It made our journey home a much more enjoyable time, and I quickly dashed through the Woolies lines—that’s why I pick Woolies. 🙂
and we were home in isolation in no time.

I recently came across, a link to the benefits of “Forest Bathing”, shinrin-yoku (Japanese)

Here’s a quote:

This is not hiking, or jogging. It is simply being in nature, connecting with it through our senses of sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch.
Shinrin-yoku is like a bridge.
By opening our senses, it bridges the gap between us and the natural world.

And if someone should challenge you here is a detailed scientific study on the benefits to the body.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5580555/

Jon Young’s “Sit Spot”, is another example of such a practice.

I am not disputing the Government’s current stance, as firm action is needed, but a touch of wonderful chlorophyl generated good-will makes the heart sing.

A proverb I read somewhere said, “A merry heart does good like a medicine”.

May your time of isolation bring you harmony and the opportunity to enjoy the small things in your around.

Remain

Davyyd

The wonderful rich ginger colours will fade so quickly, but so good to see them on the wing.

Hard to pick from a single image but this one is practicing hovering.

Tricky stuff for the over enthusiastic but clumsy flying young one. In the end, dad took the mouse back to the nest for safe and easier transfer.

Saturday Evening Post #76 : The quintessence of Life

April 4, 2020April 4, 2020Posted in Saturday Evening PostTagged Saturday Evening Post8 Comments

“We’re going through!” The Commander’s voice was like thin ice breaking. He wore his full-dress uniform, with the heavily braided white cap pulled down rakishly over one cold gray eye. “We can’t make it, sir. It’s spoiling for a hurricane, if you ask me.” “I’m not asking you, Lieutenant Berg,” said the Commander. “Throw on the power lights! Rev her up to 8,500! We’re going through!”

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, James Thurber Short Story published March 18 1939 The New Yorker

It’s a fair assumption that while most will have heard of Walter Mitty, in one of the movie guises, most will not have read the original James Thurber short story. Here is a link to a version.

As it turns out, with time on my hands at home, I’ve watched the 2013 video version starring Ben Stiller a couple of times the past few days.

The Stiller version has Walter working for Life Magazine, just as it is about to merge, (as it did in reality). One of their photographers, played by Sean Penn sends an image for the final front cover. The story in the movie revolves around that.

I’d watched the movie at a theater some years back and have to confess I’m not a Stiller fan, so it had little impact on me.
This time however I was taken, not with the story, but with the recurring theme of the best of Life Magazine. From the amazing sweeping scenery, to the interesting (strange) characters that have small but incremental parts. Just like reading Life.
The Director of Photography (DOP), Stuart Dryburgh, has done an amazing job of setting many of the scenes to emulate that story lines of many a great Life Magazine story. Take the drunken helicopter pilot. The kids playing football high in the Himalayas (can you be low in the Himalayas?) A volcano eruption, and miles and miles of ranging Icelandic mountain country.

The second time I watched it with the sound turned down, and fast forwarded the ‘talking bits’,

It’s no secret, to those who’ve followed the my humble Saturday Evening Posts, that magazines like Time, Life, Nat Geo and The Bulletin played a big part of my early photographic training. While still at school I was following the work of David Duncan Douglas, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Capa, W. Eugene Smith, Eve Arnold and Dorothea Lange, to mention but a few. I was fortunate that my local small town library had a grand supply of magazines and photo journalism books, and to be honest, I immersed myself.

Places and people I never heard of, nor had any idea about how they fitted in to wider world, filled my head with the joy of the story and the wonder of the photographs.

So much so, that it is fair to say, that if certain events and people had not occurred in my youth (all good, no regrets), then I might well have filled that “Walter Mitty” in me, and as John Muir said, “With a pocketful of biscuits I set off to explore the inventions of God“. Well, with a Nikon F, and a few rolls of Tri-X perhaps 🙂

Life Magazine had a motto, “To see Life; to See the World”, in the movie it becomes, “To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life”

One of the most interesting photographic moments is when Walter finally catches up with photographer O’Connell as he is photographing a Snow Leopard. “A Ghost Cat“, say O’Connell, then decides not to take the picture, Walter asks why and O’Connell says, “Sometimes I don’t. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it.”

All very symbolic and adventuresome. That I guess is why I enjoyed the visuals, with the sound turned down, less distractions to the brilliant camera work of the DOP.
Which left me with one unanswered question, Who would go to photograph a ghost cat with a Nikon F3T (titanium) and a 300mm f/2.8 Nikon lens, without a lens hood?

And to paraphrase “The Alchemist“, by Paulo Choelo, “…the thing you really need is the thing you already have, you just need to learn to take a closer look. You don’t need to travel around the world, you had what you wanted all the time.”

Best wishes to all my Fellow-Stay-at-Home-rs. Remain safe and well, and be brave to dream big dreams.

Enjoy.

. . . He put his shoulders back and his heels together. “To hell with the handkerchief,” said Walter Mitty scornfully. He took one last drag on his cigarette and snapped it away. Then, with that faint, fleeting smile playing about his lips, he faced the firing squad; erect and motionless, proud and disdainful, Walter Mitty the Undefeated, inscrutable to the last.

Little Visits: Out of the Box

March 31, 2020April 1, 2020Posted in Black-shouldered KiteTagged Black-shouldered Kite9 Comments

For those who follow my Saturday Evening Post, and #75, last weekend, in particular, here is the next installment.

We had guessed the young kites would be on the wing over the weekend, and so decided that Tuesday would have the best morning light, and we were gearing up to go first thing.
On Monday, on the way back from a shopping trip—essential groceries only-of course— the ABC radio informed us as of 11:59pm today (Monday), everyone would be required to stay at home and a $1602 fine would be imposed. The Deputy Commissioner of Police, Shane Patton, said there were no exceptions and police leniency would be minimal.
I looked at the four allowed activities, and couldn’t see; “Ok to go and photograph Black-shouldered Kite fledglings” anywhere.

I suppose I might have rationalised that a ‘walk’ for health reasons, might get by, but no leniency is a bit ominous.
I also pondered Scomo’s definition of “Essential” the previous night and how the good lady wife, Jenny, had gone out and bought the stay-at-home-kids, jigsaw puzzles, considered by the pm as “essential” to keep said offspring amused while at home.
But again I pondered trying to argue such a case with a uniformed officer writing my ticket as I spoke.

So we bolted home, skipped lunch, and grabbed the photo gear and as the Banjo says, “Went”.

We were much later than we’d like to be, feeding the young happens early, and then everyone in good Black-shouldered Kite practice settles down to snooze until later in the afternoon, when it’s time to trip down the road for the male, to bring in fresh supplies.

The young had indeed fledged, and one flew over us almost immediately and landed at the top of the a nearby pine tree, and stayed there the next couple of hours. I concluded later, that it was the one that had recently been fed, and its sibling was still waiting for “Couch Potato” to stretch his wings and bring in another mouse. The giveaway was the continual “sraaarcking” call. In the meantime it amused itself by climbing through the branches of the trees and jumping from one tree to another.
Eventually it ended up on the same tree as the other one.

Then “Ubereats” turned up with a mouse, and it was finally able to get its meal.

Unless the ban is lifted in the next week or so, I guess this is the last of the series we’ll be able to enjoy.

A shout out to the female in this case, as she has bought this clutch through some of the worst weather, driving rain, hail, strong winds and freezing cold days. All from high atop her open penthouse. Little tiny featherless young in wet stormy weather must be hard to protect.

Remain

At first a bit hard to find through the trees as there was no real access.
The rich golden colours show up so well

The second one turns up scrambling through the branches

And a comparison of front and side colouring

Dropping into the nest area for the young one to come and collect

“Hey, that one has my name on it.” What is interesting is they do not squabble over who’s turn it is. Well at least not yet.

Let me show you my cute little tail. See its still got the brown edging.

Saturday Evening Post #75 : A New Beginning

March 28, 2020Posted in Black-shouldered Kite, Saturday Evening PostTagged Saturday Evening Post9 Comments

Hope everyone is well, and for those in lockdown where-ever that may be, that you are keeping sane.

I’ve completely given up watching tv “Fear News”, when it was ‘Fake News”, it was a bit laughable. Now it seems that the media want to make everyone into a skulking paranoid.
I’ve locked in the Gov and State web sites. I check them and avoid the overworn adjectives that seem to have cluttered modern reporting (having trouble labelling it journalism)

Years ago I was called “anti-social”, for not being a social butterfly, but it seems that the introverts may finally have their moment.

Mr An Onymous always dreams of being a Lighthouse Keeper. Isolation plus.

Melbourne Water have closed all Bird Watching Areas in the Western Treatment Plant. Sadly, I think I felt more secure in the acres at the middle of a sewage treatment works, than negotiating the byways of the local shopping center. 🙂

EE has been following a pair of Black-shouldered Kites since August last year. After a bit of stopping and starting, they eventually nested and managed to fly two healthy young. Then strangely within a few weeks, the male had hunted the young ones off, and refused to feed them, they were soon off on their own.
EE thought that the pair would move on so we only dropped by once a week or so. Then to our surprise, he started to provide mice, and carry sticks, and conduct other more serious relationship activities, (they bonked).

It took a few trips, but eventually EE was able to locate the possible nest site. High in the very tops of a huge pine. Not easy to see, nor to photograph. And by mid-January, it was obvious she was in a nesting cycle.
Then, the weather turned feral. We had 10 days of miserable cold, extremely wet and very gusty weather. No doubt the the nest and its precious cargo would not survive.
After the deluge had passed we called by and again to our surprise, she was still at work on the nest, and was conducting running repairs with a new layer of twigs and sticks.
It says much about the tenacity, and dedication and perseverance that the female had to suffer the rain and wind, and still not abandon the project.

Because of the position and height of the nest, its been next to impossible to follow the growth of the young.
We went out last Friday, figuring it might just about be the final trip we can get in before more travel restrictions catch up with us.

We’d had in previous trips seen glimpses of movement and the occasional little brown head peeking, but had not had any chance to work out their progress.

So here we are. Climbing out on the edge of the nest, surveying the area around. Combine that with a range of wingflap activities and no doubt the next few days will bring both young out in the open. Not sure if we’ll be able to travel out to see them, but no doubt Mum and Dad will bring them on without our help.

So while one part of the world leaves us in despair, another part is doing its best to keep a species going.

Remain.

Monday Morning Musing: Celeberate What’s Right with The World

March 23, 2020March 23, 2020Posted in Monday Morning Musing9 Comments

Yeah, I know, does look a bit on the gloomy at the moment.

I’m a realist more than an optimist or a pessimist. I reckon that if there water in the glass, who cares if its half filled or half empty!!! 🙂

Also I don’t want to add to the morbid fascination that our ‘news’ people have now set as a new benchmark.

I follow online Dewitt Jones and his Celebarate what’s right with the world.

https://celebratewhatsright.com/dewitts-images

The current image wasn’t on display on the site when I looked a few minutes ago ( I get an email version)

And I can’t paste the image (copyright, intellectual properties and all),

But I’ve taken the liberty to post the text. (It was a shot of a dandelion seed head against the sun. Imagine if you will, sparkling crispness with strong dark shapes and lines)

Not with fear, but with Love

This tiny orb, backlit by the sun, shining with truly unexpected beauty

and shining with incredible potential for growth and possibility as well.

I send it to you today at a time

where many in the world are filled with dread.

I send it to remind us that there is far more

to celebrate on this planet than there is to fear.

To remind us that by celebrating what’s right with the world;

we will find the energy, the love, and the compassion

to deal with what’s wrong.

We will get through this, my friends.

Not with fear, but with love.

It’s our choice, each and every day.

Text, photo and idea Dewitt Jones, https://celebratewhatsright.com/dewitts-images

As a French publisher I’ve worked with sent to me this morning,

Until then, let’s be united in this ordeal, and be well.

Remain

Davyyd

Saturday Evening Post #74 :A New World

March 21, 2020Posted in Saturday Evening PostTagged Saturday Evening Post10 Comments

“A Solitary Crow
In Winter snow
Needs no jewels”
Deng Ming-Dao

As a young lad, I watched, “Disaster Movies”, or read books that one way or another predicted, or pretended the “End of the World”, the lone hero/ine stranded, alone. “War of the Worlds”, “The Day of the Triffids, “Panic”, “On the Beach”.
But never dreaming that perhaps one day, I would, with those around me, live in times of significant social, community and national change. On a scale that is impossible to grasp.

When I was a little lad, Neville Shute’s novel, “On the Beach” carried on its dust jacket a quote from
“The Hollow Men” by T.S. Eliot.

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

It would be many years later, that I would be able to appreciate the depth of Eliot’s work.
As a country lad, our family would travel to Melbourne over the summer school holidays, and as best my young memory can recall is that somewhere or other in Frankston, or thereabouts part of the movie was filmed. It was the talk of the dining table of our extended family at the time. We used to swim at Frankston Beach, and explore along the cliffs toward Mount Martha.
And if I’m not stretching the memory too far, the making of the movie would have featured on the then fledgling tv news.
So much so that I recall our collection of kids, played at “Making Movies” that summer.
The female lead, Ava Gardener is purported to have described Melbourne as “the perfect place to make a film about the end of the world.” However it seems it was an enthusiastic Sydney copywriter who made up the quote.

It’s hard then as we face, “Self-Isolation”, “Social Distancing”, our personal hell of “4 metre square”, and the impossible task of finding Toilet Paper to grasp the huge changes thrust upon us. Perhaps not the end of the world, but I hope we all manage to come out the other side, safe, secure and with minimal loss.

Which brings me back to the Crow in the Snow.

Meng writes ,”A single crow standing unconcerned in the falling snow is the very image of independence. It needs, no clothing, no wealth, nor status.”

Readers will know I have quite the affinity for White-winged Choughs. Not the independent bird of Meng’s meditation, but rather a community dependent bird. Their feeding as a group, their closeness with their young birds, the difficulties they face keeping their young together, and not losing to the family in the next territory, and their patient purposeful feeding always bring a smile to my face whenever I get to enjoy an encounter.

This bird, I’d guess to be a female, it and half a dozen or so of its family were working along the downed logs foraging, but not eating. Then when it seemed all had full beaks, they turned and all flew off.
“They have a nest somewhere and are feeding young”, EE observed. And no doubt she was right. We might on other occasions taken the time to follow them and see, but other duties called, and we left with their calls ringing through the Grey Box Forest.

Remain

Moments: In a Class of their Own

March 19, 2020March 19, 2020Posted in Yellow-tailed Black CockatooTagged Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo7 Comments

EE and I had a week away around the Bellarine Peninsula.
We had several bird species in mind, and to get the ball rolling, Australian Gannets, were the first order of the series.
Queenscliff is the closest town to “Popes Eye”, a man-made structure, that was designed to be a gun emplacement to protect the Queenscliff fort area. As it turned out we ran out of enemies before the emplacement was complete, and it languished as a small bluestone reef.
However the Gannets that inhabit Port Philip Bay used it as a rookery, or is that a Gannetry, and the birds patrol up and down the coast from their home.

You can actually watch them on-line at Reef Cam, on this link

For us, working the shoreline, things such as the weather, wind, tides and fish all work for, or against, and in the few hours we had in the rain, it was, well, against.
Score, John Wayne 0 Gannets 1.

Queenscliff was a very important tourist destination in the late 19th century, and to help set the olde worlde them the parks and foreshores were planted with exta-ordinary stands of pine and cypress.

In the early part of the year these all produce loads of pine-cones, all rich, green and fresh. A regular takeaway for Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos.
With their highly distinctive call, and family disposition, they can be followed around town as they help themselves to the best of the ‘cones.

Again we managed an overcast day, and had difficulty really getting the rich colours, but we were able to keep the contrast a little under control, so wins all round.
John Wayne 20, Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo, 50+

Our third target was the Latham’s Snipe at Lake Lorne, so next week, I’ll explore that area.

Enjoy