I don’t recall getting an invite, but here I am 2025. Faithful blog followers will have noted a lack of posts since about October last year—2024 in the old language. It’s not that I abandoned the blog, but have been at work on another compelling project that had no connection with either photography or birds.
I’ve also been wanting to update the style of the blog, and have my heart set on making the opening page look a little like Instra, with sqaure pictures across the page. But its proving more challenging that I expected. So here for the time, is the “No changes to be seen here” blog. Rather than force the issue, I also won’t be making a regular “Saturday Night Post” in the future. Just birds and words.
We had been working on and off with a pair of Sacred Kingfisher that seemed to be setting up for a season in a dry creek line. But in the end, it seems they either were “‘only foolin'” or have moved on to another location. Perhaps the lack of water, and the dry surrounds might have convinced them to look for a more suitable place.
So here, is a selection of images from those few weeks.
We had been travelling up to the family acres. A good part of the journey is on a two-lane freeway. The speed limit is a ‘suggested’ 110kph. I’m sure it’s suggested as most of the outside lane didn’t see it as a suggestion, rather as a lower limit.
The inside lane was mostly travelling at more modest, say, 90kph. That is normally the lane I sit in, as I’m as much interested in the journey than the desire to get there before anyone else. The 110+ lane was a constant snaking line of vehicles: Buses, Trucks,-small and large and B-doubles, cars, and Prado’s towing caravans.
Travelling in the “slow” lane does provide a chance to enjoy the around of the scenery, and of course to check the skies for any birds in-flight.
We managed to catch up with the end of the next slow lane parade, about 10-12 vehicles, and tucked in behind at a suitably safe distance. Meanwhile the steady stream of the fast lane streamed by.
Then one of those jaw-dropping moments. “You’d never believe it.” That can’t be right, No, Never.
Standing on the white-line between said, fast and slow moving traffic snakes was…
A Little Raven.
As the fast lane rushed by and the slow lane meandered along, the gap between the two lanes would not have been more than about 1.5 metres.
And there.
Walking along, like it was out for promenade, was a Little Raven. Seemingly oblivious to the rushing vehicles. There was no room for it to move between either line of vehicles, and we were about 8-10 cars back when I first noticed it. Still with wings tucked in, and a determined look on its face, it walked the narrow space between the vehicles.
Yajusthaddabethere!
We watched with heart in mouth as we approached it and quickly sped by. Thankfully we were the last in the line, and the Raven taking the opportunity lifted off after we had passed and dropped onto the side of the road. It’s cool, calm approach probably saved its life, and we were left to ponder if it had been caught out unexpectedly, or was it something it had done before.
Yet another lesson in the adaptability of some birds, and an opportunity to once again be amazed by the intelligence of these impressive creatures.
Of course I didn’t make a photo of that bird. Let’s face it, it certainly took me by suprise. So here is one I made in a carpark on another occassion.
Just about anyone who has been out and about even casually observing birds will have come across the Australian Magpie. (We have two variations in Australia, a White-backed, and a Black-backed) In my southern location the White-backed in domicile.
Maggie won “Bird of the Year” in 2017, and with good reason. They have been able to adapt to the human condition, and thrive. Many streets and parks will have a family, and at present in our street one is sitting on eggs.
And casually observing will inevitably come across a Willie Wagtail that takes exception to the Magpie’s presence and a battle royale will begin. The brave little Wagtail seems intent with constant chittering and bumping into the Maggie to move it on. And no doubt with good reason. Most Wagtail nests are in the open, or at least in minimal leaf protection and the young make a fine meal for Maggie to feed to her young.
We were walking in a local orchard and Willie came out to see what we were doing. I know this pair from previous years and no doubt they have a nest or are planning to begin soon.
Willie posed well for me on a single garden stake, and I moved in a little closer for a better shot. At the same time four sets of large wings flashed between me and the garden stake. The local Magpie Family dropped down on the grass in front of me. The female and two younger ones, (one I take it to be from last year’s crop), began to feed in the grass, while the male forced WIllie from its pedestal and sat surveying the area.
Of course it doesn’t take your average Wagtail too long to regain its composure, and immediately it began to fly at the back of the the Magpie, eventually grabbing tiny claws full of feathers and sliding down it’s back.
I’m sure Magpies aren’t all that fussed by the harassment, they just take it as the cost of doing business. In the end the larger bird dropped to the ground to join the family, and Willie took its rightful place back on the garden stake. Such are the daily conflicts.
We’ve been up the family acres this past week. Had the chance to go and have a peek at a pair of Peregrine Falcon that have taken up residence in a creek-line escarpment
After the usual bumpy ride in along the old track, we were able to see the splashes on the rockface that showed their presence. The face they have chosen, catches the early morning sunshine, and because of the angle of the cliff, the light quickly goes off the face and leaves the nest in shadow. We had planned for an early start, but, as families, are, this had to be done, then that, and a discussion or two on other things, so it was a late start. By the time we arrived, early morning feeding of the sitting bird had been accomplished and it (presumably the female) settled down and occasionally poked its head over the stone battlement. The other bird didn’t return in the nearly two hours we had available.
I noted the rockface on our side of the creek was a little lower than the main bluff, so looked to find a way to get up a little higher. Rock climbing on a grade 27 (Ewbank) face is not something I was equipped for nor had a desire to free climb. I did find what could probably be a goat track, if there were goats in the area, (no pun intended) and it was no longer used, perhaps the ethereal goat met its doom there. After a little bit of struggle, I managed to get the old body carefully, and that is very carefully, upward on the loose rocks, and slippery wet grass. Not to mention assorted blackberry and prickly wattle and some sticky myrtle. That work gave me a view into the nest site. It’s a great site for such a nest, perhaps a large boulder dislodged a long time ago and left a sizeable hole which the bird could settle down into, and it would be protected from all but the worst eastern driven rain. (A rain we rarely get).
Once atop of the escarpment, I waited, hoping (she) might move in the nest, or the other bird might return for some flight shots, but time, as they say, ran out. I walked back along the edge as I’d seen a sloping area further around that was close to where the parked IamGrey waited patiently, and would be an easy descent. Great idea. Foiled by thick blackberry bushes and bracken. Not being able to see through the bracken as to what might be underneath lead me back to the aforementioned “goat” track, and looking down, it seemed even more precarious than going up. Once in a lifetime years ago, I would have tackled it and not even thought about it, now, each step was carefully considered and eventually without too much drama, except for those pesky blackberry and prickly wattle spots, I was back on ‘level’ ground.
One last look at the nest site, and it was time to return to family festivities.
Was doing a google search t’other day and as usual managed to get lots of info, most of it—irrelevant to my original enquiry. That I should have been surprised.
It was a simple question about how far can you see to the horizon. I live on the Western Victorian Lava Plains. The plains extend 350 km east-west. So I was wondering as I stand in the open paddock on flat ground, how far can I see in all directions. Seems the general consensus is around 5km. Mind my ophthalmologist will tell you at that distance most of what I see would be pretty blurry.
Why, no doubt you are wondering, and what bought this inquisitiveness on?
Sky Dancing
The area in which I was standing is part of the territory of a pair of Brown Falcon. As she prepares for a nesting season, they tend to spend a lot of time sky dancing. Pursing one another across the sky with much calling and aerial displays.
This pair are mostly human intolerant (Me too!) so getting close is no easy matter.
The winds have been high for the past couple of weeks, and on this day there were gusts of 50kph or more. The strong winds seems to give the birds an extra enthusiasm. Standing in the open paddock it was easy to see them scoot across the sky, from horizon to horizon. If you’ve never seen or heard a pair of Brown Falcons pair-bonding, I’d hope one day you can. It is accomplished with lots of aerial antics and much raucous calling.
From where we stood we are able to see them sweep across the entire sky. So quickly and so far that sometimes they disappeared from sight. It was humbling to see these birds flash back and forth covering several kilometres either side of where I stood in mere seconds. It would take me 15 minutes to walk back to IamGrey in the carpark.
They also were working quite high up, so any photos I made really are at a distance. These may not be the most useful pics I’ve made, but worth sharing.
Lots of flying close together, quite a few times one or the other was flipped upside down or even one on top of the other with only metres seperation. They were so fast on the wind, and so high that the normal harassment by Magpies and others just couldn’t get started. Even if a Maggie had made her best vertical ascent, the Falcons would have been a kilometre or more away by the time she got anywhere near to the height.
In the end they disappeared to a tree-line way down the range, and perhaps that is where this year’s clutch will take place. Time, will tell
The past couple of weeks have been anything but a birders paradise in terms of weather. Even the birds know it!
The beach at Point Cook where we currently are frequenting, has been beaten upon by wind and wave, and the sands have been moved from one location to another. It’s quite interesting to see part of the rock formations now standing boldy in the water, and further along the beach new sloped, almost perfectly sculpted, sands that would be prized in any tourist location.
From the early settlement days there is remnant of a pier that now stands, just a bit forlornly, a shadow of its former self. It has long been a resting place for the local cormorants and gulls, and now because many of the foreshore rocks are covered by sand, it is even busier that previously.
One of the birds that regularly come to rest and dry out are Little Pied Cormorants. For some reason, they seem to have a habit of a most ungainly landing technique and no two ever seem to be the same. So it’s rather fascinating to see them slip in across the water, all sleek and wings held out, to lift up and suddenly their confidence seems to change, and body, wings, and feet all seem to go in wildly different directions.
I’m sure there is method to it all, but it does provide for some interesting observations. Add to the normal challenges, this one was landing into about a 40kph+, with a few bursts that would have been much higher.
Still, persistence pays off.
Here’s another that just gave up and crashed into the water.
The arrival of Demeter and Persephone To the ancient Greeks, spring and summer signified the six months when Persephone returned from the Underworld, and her mother Demeter made the earth bloom and grow bountiful after her absence.
Now, of course this was written for the more northern climes, so for us mere southerners, perhaps Demi and Seph get two goes at coming around. Facts should never get in the way of a good yarn.
Now a good rollikin’ Greek legend has many a twist and turn The good Bard used a variation of the story in his play, “A Winter’s Tale”, with the basic structure recalling the myth of Persephone, a beautiful young girl abducted by Hades, the god of the underworld, from a flowering field where she was playing. Allowed to return six months of every year to the earth’s surface, Persephone’s comings and goings explain the cycle of winter and summer. Demeter, of course, is the one that negotiates the release of her daughter, and so every year as Spring rolls around mother and daughter are reunited and the earth,—because of Demeter’s happiness, blossoms and new life develops . The Bard, in his way, used a tad or more of poetic licence on the basics of the story.
Fascinating, I’m sure, but I’m also sure that the flocks of Welcome Swallows, and Fairy Martins are driven by more than a whimsical legend or an English poet/playwright.
We had decided that as the sun was shining and the wind wasn’t howling, that a trip down to Werribee South Marina,(and coffee shop) would be a pleasant way to spend the morning in the sunshine. Close by to the waters edge, there were still few tiny puddles of water, and some mud. For the next 30 minutes or so the Fairy Martins and Welcome Swallows swept in to collect material for their little nesting projects. Wouldn’t it interesting to know how many trips they each made, but they must have had a site quite local, as no sooner did they seem to depart than they were back for another load. The small area of mud was alongside a busy footpath. (The sunshine bought out not only Demi and Seph but all the locals for their dog-walk and coffee fix) The little birds seem to pay it all no attention, lifting off if disturbed, to circle about and re-land. Such is dedication. Demeter would be proud And such was the action that a pair of Magpie-larks joined in as well. However I missed seeing their mud collecting.
On the way home we stopped for a few minutes as there is a family of Magpies on the corner of a close street. How close? Well between EE and I we walk past the tree several times a week, in the early first light of morn.
I went by earlier in the week and didn’t notice anything unusual, but Mrs Maggie has been very busy and has in just a few days constructed a very secure, if somewhat open planning nest. Suitably festooned with discarded building site materials. Colour Coordination is obviously important to throughly modern roadside Magpies. I’m thinking I might name her Persephone.
As I can easily see the nest from the footpath, I do hope to keep a track of the comings and goings as the season progresses.
Here are some of the Spiny-cheeked Honeyeaters from the same time and location.
Checked back the other day, after about a week. All the bushes are pretty well stripped, except for one isolated bush in the middle of the paddock. For some reason it hasn’t been touched.
The Spiny-cheeked are still in residence, but the Cuckoo-shrikes have moved elsewhere
Enjoy
There is enough for everyoneLiked the spotlight effect on this oneThey seem fearless about moving through the thornsNot often I’d see a closeup portraitThorns? What Thorns?TastySuch a fine looking birdWhen not feeding they were working through the leaves on the treesAnother pause for a portraitShowing off the Spiny cheekI wish I knew what this was about, but didn’t realise the other bird was well inside the leaves until I followed this one as it landed.
It’s probably well known, that I have a love/hate relationship with Adobe. Well, not all Adobe, just Lightroom in particular. It’s a product that I love to hate. And to be fair, it has managed my library for the past 10 years or more, so perhaps it should be a more of a tolerant relationship. And no, I’m not going to highlight each of the niggles that I have. Just I’m always on the lookout for a better library manager. But recent changes to the suite has caused me to perhaps reconsider my position. I’ve never been enamoured by their raw converter, much preferring Capture One, Raw Power, or DXO and even Nikon Capture/Studio (in no particular order) to deal with my NEF file conversion.
However some recent changes seem to me to have finally given me the result I was looking for at import. All good.
I’ve often said about the enhancement of images, (these days euphemistically called ‘post-processing’) that I’d happy with a copy of Photoshop 5.5 with its clever—then released—Masking Layers, Brushes and Curves tool for just about all the changes I need to make. (ps. I try not to spend hours in front of screen, pulling first this or then that slider, hoping to produce a prize-winner out of something that I’d normally send to the Trashbin.)
When I was travelling extensively PS5.5 running on a little Libretto Toshiba notebook did all of the heavy lifting for me. And given the size of the Libretto (it was only just a little larger in size to an Iphone 15 Max) just fitted in one palm, it wasn’t a bad effort. (How times change) And I was much happier to move to the first Macbook Air with a decent size keyboard.
But… Back to Adobe Lightroom in particular.
To keep up with the latest and greatest, of course, Adobe have introduced several AI components into the Lr suite. One of which is the Generative AI Removal tool. Swipe over the ‘offending’ intrusion into the perfect composition, hit the “Apply Button” pause to take a breath, and there before your very eyes like some magician’s trick, ‘it’s’ Gone… And just to be sure, new buttons offer three. (Count them. 3 ) choices of result.
Wannaseehowitworks? Well I did too.
As it turned out while I was working with some Spiny-cheeked Honeyeaters on boxthorn (see last week’s post) a clever little Sparrow landed on the bush just in front of my moment. Yep, I could have cropped around it, and neither you or I would have had to wade all the way down here, But I thought. Why not? Why not indeed, so. I did.
With and Without Sparrow. Version #1 with some space under the bird and a clever addition to the branch
Version #2 filling in the space. Version #3 creating a nice branch that can support the bird. You can click on the pics to get a full size view of each pair.
I know. Scary. And of course no one is every going to believe anything else I post again. 🙂 Some, suspicious that we are, might even be wondering. Did he actually paste the Sparrow in from another shot? 🙂
Like many of the ‘new’ features using AI, personally I don’t find the need compelling. But for those days when the wind is howling outside, the rain is pitching down and I’ve crawled out from under the doona long enough to make a cup of the Earl of Grey, it does while away a bit of time.
On Saturday Night, I told the tale of the boxthorn bonanza that several species are engaged in at present.
The only real winner of course is the boxthorn as its seeds are spread far and wide by the steady stream of diners at the fest. It is unusual, I think, to see more than one or two Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike in an area. In most locations where we find them, a pair, and perhaps a juvenile are the usual suspects. It is however noted in many areas that they gather in large flocks of 100 or more, particularly in the non-breeding season. Perhaps they are partly nomadic over winter.
So it was quite a surprise to find at least 14 of them coming and going regularly to the boxthorn playground. It seemed that on a whim, they would all fly out of the trees and disappear, which made it easy to work out the numbers. And. Equally on a whim, first one or two would return, followed rapidly by the remainder of the flock. They have a lovely low call, often described as a soft churring, or more creatively as a yodelling like trill
Their flight pattern is best described as a few wing-flaps and an undulating glide with the wings against the body, repeated. So the flight is a series of rises and falls. They are neither a Cuckoo, nor, a Shrike. In New Zealand, one of the common names for them is “cherry hawk” And no doubt their fruit preference is to blame. When they land, they will inevitably ‘shuffle’ their wings back and forth, earning them the nicknames “Shufflewing” or “Wingshuffler”.
When I first turned to bird photography they were among the earliest birds I photographed.
Over the past week, as the weather has been kind, we have visited their festive area several times and watched the comings and goings as they feed. Here is a sample of the few days.
Enjoy
Flying InSometimes they would grab the berry in a fly-by. This one missedThis one graced me with a tail displayEach berry needs a little softening upSoftened up and down it goesAre the ripest at the top of the bushSweet SuccessReady to flyThe head first approachThis one is dropping down on the bushLittle bits of flying berry
South African Boxthorn is a highly invasive plant, imported into Australia, around the 1880s. The purpose was to provide hedgerows for land demarkaction. The plant, however, because of it’s evasive properties, had other ideas, and quickly spread out beyond the intended purpose.
Like many of the ‘imports’ into Australia, such as rabbits, foxes, prickly pear, cats, deer and a host of other unmentionables, (including land-lice—first nations word for sheep), and South African Boneseed, whatever the intended and seemingly harmless (insert profit here) reason, the pests became feral and are now for all intents and purposes beyond complete eradication.
Boxthorn has a fruit that starts out green but ripens to a rich red/orange. Each fruit can contain as many as 70 or more seeds, each capable of germination. Given a two metre high plant can contain thousands of the little red invaders, it’s not hard to see how it was able to get away from control. Add to that, it is quite capable of sprouting from a broken, or cut twig, or branch, and the problem simply gets larger. Early attempts to simply plough them back into the ground, just gave them the space needed to spread even further.
Poisons work, as does cutting them down, stacking them to air dry, and treating the roots. All of which adds up to hard work, and while effective, like dealing with another feral, like Boneseed, needs constant attention. So in lots of places, by the roadside, in open bush land and forest, the plant just carries on its merry way.
Nearby to us is a small abandoned piece of roadway and some open paddock. It has several stands of boxthorn. At present the plants are in fruit, and a number of local birds have added the berries to their diet. Cockatoos, some parrots and honeyeaters make the most of the offering, and of course, either drop the seeds, or carry them to be deposited when they excrete else where. Two birds I’ve never seen on boxthorn before are Black-faced Cuckoo-shrikes, and Spiny-cheeked Honeyeaters. However for some reason, the nomad honeyeaters and the Cuckoo-shrikes have been very busy in the small area, and over a matter of a week or so have practically stripped the plants of fruit.
For some reason, and I don’t know why, most cockatoos tend to be ‘left-footed’.
There is some evidence that the young will experiment with both right and left, but in the end, perhaps because of peer pressure, (I jest), they settle on using the left foot to handle food.
I’ve only ever seen one Sulphur Crested that appeared to be ambidextrous.
Three Little Corellas swept in over the top of a feeding flock of Galahs. I don’t think one of the Galahs even lifted up to see their arrival. The rich shoots of the short grasses must indeed have been sweet and the trio settled in to savouring the feast.
This photo shows it with the foot up, but each time I moved round to get a view of it eating, it continued to turn its head and body so I only managed a slight view of it putting the food in its mouth. Then it would turn around again with the foot up. I’m almost sure it did it deliberately to stop me getting a clear shot of the feeding process. 🙂 (Yes, I’m parrot paranoid)
We have, to say the least, had some very cold days, (and nights) the past few weeks.
It’s made venturing out in the field a little less desirable, and being able to turnover, and pull the doona up bit without a conscience possible.
And besides my 500mm PF lens has been in hospital, and I’ve been doing make-shift with a variety of other lenses. Good side to that too. I’ve become reacquainted with the 300mm f/2.8. Yes, its heavy, yes, tis hard to work with in the field, but oh, oh oh, those dreamy smooth backgrounds and crisp sharp details. Nothing there to complain about.
The 500mm PF has been in the capable hands of the team at Digicam in Adelaide They have been keeping me updated with progress reports, including the news that the parts needed were coming from overseas, and a bit of a delay might be expected. So it was pretty exciting to get a note saying the parts would be available and the repair expedited. Then advice with a delivery note from StarTrek, “Sing Ho for the Life of a Bear, Sing Ho for the Life of a Bear, I don’t mind much if it rains or snows,” and a text message to say “Delivery Today”, and… It was. Can’t ask more than that.
Sadly the next couple of days were cloudy, damp and not conducive to really in-depth lens testing. Not that I was going to line-up lens charts, software and the like. No. Just shoot the comms disk on the tower across the road, and look at the result. So I plugged the lens on to our spare D500—the main camera now had the 300 f/2.8— and out I went. Took a bit of fiddling to get the right lens correction dialled in and in the end I swapped out the cameras and the old workhorse needed about a minus 8 correction. (-8) Happy with that, the following day was one of those out of the box days that End–of-Winter/Almost-Spring can deliver. Delivery Sunshine. No wind. Crisp on the Grass. All I needed to do now was to find some birds.
The beach was empty. Devoid. Vacant. Still. Alone. Bereft. Not a feather to be seen. A pair of nesting Ravens, and little else. No beginner’s luck here.
We walked back to IamGrey and as we did, way across the open bracken field, I saw a lone shape in the air. A Brown Falcon. (I hope my ophthalmologist reads this) I reckon at about 600m And closing across the field. It was the male of the local pair. He swung a few loops over our heads in the sunshine and it gave me a chance to really see what the lens could do. Result. Thanks to Digicam, it’s back to normal, and working as expected on the D500. That is—It’s sharp.
Sitting in IamGrey having a quick cuppa of the Grey of Earl, a number of Fairywrens came out to dance about the dried grass stalks. And I was able to get some closeups that showed that smooth creamy background that long lenses can produce. Not quite the dreamy soft of the f2.8. But we takes what we can. 🙂
Big shout out to Digicam for the fast and efficient service and for StarTrek for an on-time delivery.
He was making a wide circling turn. Perhaps looking for a thermal. It gave me a wonderful view of that spread on the tail-feathersMr Handsome showing off his new Spring Dress to impress the ladies. Even the PF can produce soft backgrounds
And the Header Image is another Falcon I found late in the afternoon. It didn’t want to sit for portraits.
On one of the paddocks at the park, the rabbits have been digging holes to get to either the fresh shoots of the grass or the mushroom mycelium.
A large flock of Galahs also work over the same grass taking out the sweet (well I suppose it is to them) fresh grass. If it was a golf-course there would be an outcry.
I was watching them fly in, work over an area and then take to wing to see what was available a few metres further on. One had managed to find a deep divot, and was working away at the bottom, when its mate flew in to see what it had found.
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 