The Werribee Wagtails, (now officially Birdlife Werribee), held their annual ‘camp out’ at Warrnambool this past week.
EE and I decided to attend, and Mr An Onymous and Ms In Cognito also came down. We took a couple of days earlier just to settle in, and stayed at the Warrnambool Surfside Caravan Park, close to the beach, close to the shops, close to the … you get the idea.
Nothing like at trip down the coast to improve the appetite, and we stopped at Routley’s Bakery in Geelong to top up with one of their selection of fine pies, and a coffee, then about 3 hours later we settled into our accommodation in Warrnambool. Over a leisurely dinner, we discussed the possibilities and decided that a peek at Whale Watching from the designated watching area would be a good start. Only one mother and babe in attendance, but quite close in and it was fascinating to watch these huge dark grey bulges, roll back and forth in the swell. What got me thinking was the huge distances these creatures travel, and how this young one had just begun that adventure.
We stopped at the Hopkins River mouth, and after a walk along the beach had only a few of the usual suspects in view. We moved to the other side of the river and up on the cliff line and even before we had exited the car, Singing Honeyeaters were there to greet us. No fear of us humans at all as they sat on the bull-bar of the 4WD next to us, danced on the fence posts, swung on the fence wire, and played bump off games on the signage. Close ups were that easy.
A pair of Black Cormorants dominated the rocky area, and a lone Caspian Tern made runs along the cliff line just above out heads. Then an Australasian Gannet caught my attention as it swept along the rolling sea line, then out to sea, speed back on the wind, turning over the Hopkins outflow and repeating the performance about ever 5-6 minutes. Then it rolled over, and plunged headlong into the water. Emergering after about 30 seconds or more. Then after a preen, it began the run over the waves to get enough speed to become airborne. Funny to see it running up and over the crest of the wave, and the gliding to the next wave to repeat the running to get speed.
We meandered on down to the Warrnambool Pavillion Cafe Bar, for lunch.What a great spot with excellent views along the beach and over the harbour. We sat in the sun, and enjoyed great service and amazing food. I opted out of the Thai Chicken Pie, but had to look on while In enjoyed the fare. We did the usual thing over food, told one another amazing impossible stories and sipped coffee and tea. The biggest Pot of Earl Grey I’ve ever seen. Must have had about 4 tablespoons of tea in the strainer. You could smell the aroma all over the cafe.
From there our journey took us to the Kilarney Beach Area, and some more Terns, and a few Red-capped Plovers. Then on to Tower Hill Park.
Highlights were up close and personal with a squadron of Emus, a visit by the most beautiful Spotted Harrier, and a Koala asleep in the carpark tree.
Back along the road home in the late afternoon sunshine we came up a paddock full of Cattle Egrets, with lots in breeding plumage. Guesses at 60-70 were made, but the more we looked the more we saw. Good way to end a day.
Day two to follow. Here is how it all looked.
Mum and bub. Rolling in the swell.My one and only shot of a Sooty Oystercatcher. I couldn’t get over the small gap in the cliff to get any closer.“See, I own this carpark”Jump startNo, I didn’t move the camera, they were sitting in linePortrait session with a Singing HoneyeaterJust me and me mate.Study in colour combosBlack Cormorant with every feather working hard to control landing in the stiff breezeDive, dive, dive. Gannet at impactWith a run, hop, skip, jump, more run… AirborneCaspian TernSitting prettyUp close and personalFour Emus tracking across the lake where the water is Emu deepLate afternoon sunshine gracing Cattle Egrets
No, I haven’t fallen into some sludge pit at the Treatment Plant! Just that with the weather being only average at best, we’ve not been out much, and when we have its been, well, average. Hope to publish a compilation on the weekend, but here is a quick look at a project I provided an image for.
The National Parks Service of NSW have created some interpretation boards for the centre at the Dunphys Camp in the Blue Mountains National Park, and one of my White-winged Chough images forms part of the motif.
I really like the overall feel of the finished result, and would even if my image wasn’t on there.
Well I survived the first copy as editor, so swung by for another attempt
The August version was reduced in file size to make it easier to upload and download, but folk with big big monitors report that the pics looked a tad unsharp. So.
This time around the pdf is a bit larger. Looked ok when I printed it, and was fine on the 27″ mac.
Enjoy.
Some of the images will go up on a Flickr Page. But, that’s tomorrows job.
The link on the Wag Tales tab will take you there, but for the tab weary, or wary.
This is one of those posts that’s a bit out of sequence. Just had other things to post.
A couple of weeks back we had a morning free and decided to go and visit with our friend Ambrose, the Rose Robin.
He had decided to winter over in a small patch of scrub away from the highway, and near a used, but not well maintained track. To get to it, we’d follow the track a bit, then move onto some well formed Kangaroo pads. The ‘roo pads are easier to walk, and they don’t waste any uphill/downhill meandering. Very energy conscious is your Eastern Grey, so they tend to take the easiest way along a creek line or over a ridge. Their number one rule: “Don’t loose height, and avoid the thick scrub” So its usually pretty flat, and always interesting walking.
When we got the stand of wattle that Ambrose had called home, I was pretty flabbergasted to find that some local “Landcare (?)” group had decided to clean up the undergrowth and pile all the logs, sticks and leaves into one great big heap at the end of the stand. Of course this meant for the birds, all the normal perching, hunting and hiding places were now removed. I could just imagine how this happened with a handful of ‘community’ minded folk ‘taking care of the scrub’ in their area. No doubt with motorised “Bush Whackers” to clean up the offending leaves, grass and stubborn undergrowth. And there would have been of course the good natured yelling and joking with one another as they scoured the tiny moss beds with the equipment, dragging of logs, and stomping with boots. All to go home at night to their respective dwellings, having completely ruined the environment for the winter overing birds. It would be like going to their house, piling all at the furniture and belongings in one corner, and then emptying out the pantry too.!
Any wonder then as we stood there in the Landcare (?) equivalent of a moon scape that the usual Thornbills, Wrens, Flame Robins, Whistlers, Honeyeaters and Fantails, were not only no where to be seen, but not even heard. A pity as this little block of wattle had been a bit of a honeypot over winter.
After 20 minutes of sitting and listing, it was pretty obvious that the friendly character of Ambrose was also not going to make an appearance. In protest, I redistributed a handful of the “Landcare (?)” pile of logs across the moss beds, and we decided to go elsewhere.
As we were swinging out of the wattle stand, across the open area I spied a flash of grey and magenta. He was there. I don’t do bird calls, either vocal or recorded (see the sidebar), but I feel confident enough with this bird to talk to him… And he came over.
Now if Robins can do indignant he had every right I reckon, but he simply chirruped (It’s a bit like a single note on a mouth organ), and began to hunt around the tops of the wattles. Occasionally coming down to see if I was following. For the next half an hour or so, this delightful little bird graced us with his presence, stopping to pose, and happy to turn his head when I spoke. I know I’ve quoted Jon Young before, but here he is again:
If we don’t barge in and kick up a big flock of frightened birds – if we replace collision with connection, learn to read the details, feel at home, relax, and are respectful- ultimately the birds will yield to us the first rite of passage: a close encounter with a bird otherwise wary of our presence.
So we sat and chatted, he hunted, entertained us with his chirrup, and ultimately sat on a stick a couple of metres away and preened. He hunted so close at one stage that I said to him, “If you get any closer, mate, you’ll be in my pocket and I’ll have to take you home!”
In the end we had to say goodbye and I could hear Jon Young again:
To understand we must slowly but surely expand the sphere of awareness and shrink the sphere of disturbance by learning and practicing good etiquette. We begin to start seeing and hearing more birds.
Hello Ambrose, hope you’ll be polite enough to come back next season.
Oh, there you are. Will you accept visitors.Relaxed and entertainingShall I pose here, or would you like me on the other log?Any closer and you’ll be coming home with me.Magenta on Green. What a great combo.
One of the delights of photographing out at Werribee River Park, is the awesome amount of raptors that call the area home, or at least call it the Supermarket.
I’ve mentioned a couple of times in the past about a spot we’ve taken to sitting near a bend in the river under some old River Redgums and watching the comings and goings from a distinguished looking old dead tree on the far side of the river.
We noted the past couple of times activity by a pair of Black Kites, and with a bit of detective work, a heap of guessing and smidgen of luck we’ve decided they have a nest in the area. We’ve seen them at work building the nest, going through the necessary motions of creating the eggs to go in to the nest, and watched the male feed the good lady.
Over the weeks their activity has become obvious, and as they always seem to leave and reappear from one direction, and the variety of calls coming from that area, its been possible to isolate what ‘quarter’ the nest is located.
Now, I’m not a bird-nester, even as a little tacker, I just couldn’t get with the programme of climbing up, taking eggs and then ‘blowing’ them and popping them into shoeboxes, or old discarded cigar boxes, all laid out on cotton wool. Not a height thing, after all small boys were made to climb. Well they used to be, until it became politically incorrect in some Occupational Health and Safety manual.
Just couldn’t seem to have the need to deprive birds of eggs. Mind you the morals of a 10year old are bit hard to fathom; if you start to unravel all the pieces: Doctor, should I lay on the couch now?
Wind forward to the present day, and while I like to be able, still, to find a bird’s nest, perhaps for the same reason as a girl’s essay, quoted in Mateship with Birds, by A.H. Chesterton, who said,
“The Wagtail’s nest is beautiful, with the eggs it is more beautiful with the fond mother sitting on the nest it is most beautiful.”
So it became obvious to both EE and I, that a trip to the other side of the river was going to be essential. If for no other reason than to see how ‘beautiful’ it was.
Now as luck, and the fine work of the Parks people, a bridge over said river had been provided, so like Billie Goats Gruff, we set off.
Big pile of sticks up in a tree, seemed to be a pretty good idea of what to look for, and as we crossed the bridge and checked trees, at least we had found trees that didn’t fit the scheme. And then. She flew in.
And a few steps more and off the track, and there was the nest, seen, but not easy to photograph. So I meandered up the track about 50m, and found a small clearing and was able to move in the extra 75m or so, to get a good view of both the nest and a long black tail protruding out. One or two shots, and I turned to go back the way I’d come.
Which, in simple 10 year old boy, thought was seemingly pretty easy. But while I’d been spying out the lay of the land, I’d been spied on by the male Black Kite, and he’d ‘cunningly’ eased his way through the trees and now sat on a branch that literally barred my way back to the bridge. At first I thought I’d try my luck, but his calls changed to a hoarse bark, and each step I took, he raised the scale. He was about 30m up, and about 40 m from me. When he launched.
Not your jump off the branch, flap a bit and glide off down the river, but.
Launch. Coiled up those long muscular legs under him, turned sideways over the branch, and then with maximum propulsion launched like a torpedo, wings up before he started, so as to get the maximum speed at launch. Straight toward me. Barking in a very shrill and agitated way. How close he went by, I don’t know. I was ducking behind the camera held up and out. But given the space it would have been not much more than 5 metres. He barrelled down the small cleaning and did fast sweeping turn at the end, and headed back, but this time at least i got of 3 frames. As he went past, I made it to the track and back the way I’d come. He landed on a branch across the track, behind me, and barked. I turned to see and he did the same launch, but this time away from me, the power of the throw is simply spectacular.
Most of my experience with Black Kites has lead me to the (false) assumption that they were fairly docile easy going dudes.
I’ve seen them follow a tractor for hours in a paddock, up, and down, pulling out at the end of the run, two wing flaps for speed, and then back on the track of the tractor and keeping station with its speed. I’ve seen over 100 of them all in the air at the same time, dropping out of the high sky, like airborne paratroopers. Invisible a first and then as they descend more and more becoming visible. I’ve had them waft over my position just to see what I’m doing, and pass close enough to see them breath, but I’ve never crossed the line with one before.
As I got back to Billie Goats Gruff bridge, EE passed on the best help of the day. “That was close and you are white!”
I decided to call him Jim. There is a song by Jim Croce, which has the lines
You don’t tread on Superman’s cape, You don’t spit into the wind You don’t take the mask of the ole Lone Ranger And You don’t mess about with Jim.
Me. Well I changed lenses, and went off to photograph reflections in the water for awhile, much more soothing and less dangerous.
My main annoyance, as I’ve tried to explain on Flickr, is that I carelessly crossed the line with this bird. A huge mistake on my part. I don’t blame him for taking umbrage, after all its his family at stake. What I would have liked to have done is get his permission to be in attendance, and that takes a lot more time than just stumbling about in the bush. I am a great believer in their face recognition ability, and I think it will be hard to become accepted by this bird now.
For that, I guess as Jon Young puts it, “Setting aside collision in favour of connection always feels deeply right Seeking to be a beneficiary of the Kite’s courtesy, and not break the treaty.”, is what we try to do each trip out. Given,I reckon she’s put in two to thee weeks already, and probably has another five to six weeks before the young is (are?) fledged, we still have a bit of work to do.
Here’s the day.
Female finishing a meal on the change over treeFemale on the change over tree.Simple straight out launch to head back to the nestAh, there you are. She is still setting in.You don’t mess about with Jim. He has just turned at the edge of the clearing and heading back for another run at me.Male, sitting on a branch over the track. He has 360 degree views from here.That Power Launch. Tipping sideways off the branch, and pulling the wings down for maximum speed. The legs like huge springs just drive him off the branch. Awesome
Just a note to say have a look under the Wagtales tab on the top of the site and you’ll find access to the Werribee Wag Tales newsletter.
This enthusiastic group of birdwatchers have favoured me with arranging the monthly news, and I’ve decided to have a copy available to everyone here.
Hint: Its just a little bit different to the members one. A bit tighter edited an a few small housekeeping things left off.
If you enjoy watching, observing, counting or photographing birds, and you enjoy the company of other folk, you’ll soon see why we appreciate the outings.
Its been said before, but its worth repeating, “Bird watching is not a spectator sport”
Beginning to really like the monthly foray out with the Werribee Wagtails, good company, tops spots, usually good birds, and yesterday good weather.
We met down at the Eastern Entrance and took a walk, all 25 of us, down the fence line track. Immediately we’d started and a pair of Scarlet Robins entertained us, and then a pair of Jacky Winters. Not to be out done a pair of Restless Flycatchers came out to play in the morning sunshine. It could hardly be better.
A litre further down the track and we came across a family of Flame Robins, and then… It got a lot better. We spotted a lone male Red-capped Robin. Big news for me, as I’ve been trying to locate such bird in the area for the past few months. We walked along the creek line that runs on the south side of the “Seed beds” and came upon another larger flock of Flame Robins, and a pair of Scarlets.
The ‘whip’ for the day rounded us up, and after a morning ‘cuppa’ at the Big Rock carpark, and a few more birds, we took to the drive around the Great Circle Road. Stopping at one spot we walked in to see a Mistletoe Bird, but it must have gotten the dates wrong in its diary and try as we might we had to admit defeat. Prehaps next time. A big group of Crimson Rosellas, and a beautifully vocal Grey Shrike Thrush were suitable consolation.
We stopped again at Fawcetts Gully and there was a female Golden Whistler, but try as I might, I couldn’t get a reasonable shot. Did see the departure of an Eastern Yellow Robin, but again trying too hard, I missed it completely.
So to lunch, and a Collared Sparrowhawk that whisked through the trees, much to the chagrin of around 25-30 White-winged Choughs.
We walked down to see the resident Tawny Frogmouths, and through the bush past the dam near the rangers work area, and there found quite a number of Brown-headed, and White-naped Honeyeaters among others.
After the birdcall, the count was 45. Not a bad day’s birding. Mr An Onymous and I went back past Big Rock to have another look for some Scarlet Robins we’d been working with the previous week, and just as we were leaving we spied another Eastern Yellow Robin just off the side of the road.
Enjoy
As an aside, the Editor of Werribee Wagtails newsletter “Wag Tales”, Shirley Cameron is handing over the job, and I’ve taken on the task. Bit daunting as 26 years of love, care and attention to the group by Shirley sets a pretty high standard for the incoming ‘new bloke’.
One thing I’m going to do is add the pdf of the magazine to this blog, and you should be able to find it from the Front menu Tab. Will make an announcement when the first one goes ‘live’.
To add to that, I’ve created a new Flickr page that will have some of the magazine photo content for viewing, also allows us to have others add material for the pages. We’ll hasten slowly.
Yellow-rumped Thornbill at bathing duties, preening in the early morning sunshine.One of a number of Scarlet Robins for the day.My find of the day. One Red-capped Robin, and I can’t wait to get back down to have another lookPair of Jacky Winters. Rare to see them sitting together.Restless Flycatcher, quite happy to perform with 25 people watchingJacky Winter always a favourite find for me.Female Scarlet Robin hunting with a large flock of Flame RobinsTawny Frogmouth, quite near the Main Office area and completely oblivious to our presence.
After our earth shattering discovery of access to the Backpaddock, it was obvious we’d soon make a return trip for a good look at what the robins might be up to.
Again the weather dudes, made it pretty certain that a bleak, and perhaps not monumental storm was on the way, and that dire and severe and as it turned out, over active imagination weather was predicted.
We figured to go on Wednesday, and by the late afternoon of Tuesday, the weather prognosticators seemed to have the upper hand. And in the end ‘common sense’ prevailed and I decided to stay home.
However, as seems the case so often, by morning, although a bit windy, the sky was blue. Horizon to horizon. Quick phone call to Mr An Onymous, and he was soon on the way, the car was loaded, and we headed to the Northern Subs.
Once inside the gate, it didn’t take too long for three pairs of eyes, (on second thoughts, make that four pairs of eyes, as EE was with us), to locate a pair of very active, but somewhat suspicious of human activity Red-capped Robins. They were in an area that had not had a pair of birds for at least two seasons, so I figured them to be a new couple. I’m beginning to contemplate that the birds I first saw all those years ago have reached their use by date and that its only now that a new younger generation of birds are building up the numbers again. Fine theory, but??
The “Three Brothers” flock of Flame Robins were no where to be seen, but I went to look for “Sam”, and eventually found him, but he certainly didn’t want anyone leaving Tripod Holes on his Forest, and promptly disappeared.
A pair of Scarlet Robins were also in the area, and EE spent a bit of time with them, eventually getting the male to become bold enough to come in quite close.
Mr An, and I, followed a hunting party of Flames down through the scrub and eventually out manoeuvred them, and were sitting waiting for them to turn up, and they did. Sunshine, Robins, close up, and a good sit spot. Perfect. Probably shot more useful images in the hour or so than I have all season so far.
A problem for the robins was the presence of a couple of Whistling Kites, a pair of very vocal and fast, Brown Falcons, and a very noisy and low flying Brown Goshawk. The slightest alarm call from the thornbill flock and everybody went for cover.
This small Flame flock are new birds for me, and consisted of about 4 males, several females, and 4-5 juveniles. Not having any knowledge of the history of this flock, its a bit hard to determine, but I’d be betting they are on their way back from somewhere, and have chosen to tank up in the forest. They had joined the mobile Thornbill flock, of about 20-30 birds, so it was pretty noisy convoy moving through the open areas.
At least the visit proved what we’d been contemplating, that the food source inside was better than outside, and the shelter of the understory in the Grey Box suits them.
And of course today, the weather has turned feral, so we are not likely to be out there again for at least the mid of the following week.
With only a few weeks to go, its a bit hard to think the season is going to provide much data on the flocks. The encouraging thing I found was that the males were not vocal, and a female matriarch still seemed to be the one that controlled the flock movement.
Enjoy.
On the look out for those pesky photographers.I’ve only a handful of pics of red-cap pairs together. He was very defensive.I’m hoping this lovely lass will begin to accept me and we can get some interesting pictures She reminds me so much of my old friend Primrose with her wonderful buff dusting on the chest.He began to get bolder in his hunting close up, perhaps had figured out we were benign.Good enough for another poseThis male has an unusual eye ring, and I’m wondering it it might be a young male still moulting in.Always hard to gain their confidence.This is Mr Yellow Sash, and he is alertly watching the pair of vocal Brown Flacons pass by.Think this is the Matriarch. Her chits and calls seem to bring everybody to attentionOne of several pairs of Scarlets we encountered
The BackPaddock is now open. For the first time since early Feb 2014, the back paddock has been opened up to mere mortals.
We haven’t visited the area in over 2 months. No point if the access to the gorgeous piece of Grey Box forest and grassland is inaccessible. Tired I was of pressing my cold nose up against the unforgiving and unrelenting chain mesh. Besides the Robins, the reason we visited were obviously living the high life further down the paddock and not trips out.
Our style of photography of these delightful winter visitors, is to find the flocks, note the best feeding areas and the size and direction of the flocks and how the mixed flock is moving about. Then finding one of those spots and waiting. If followed, they just fly further and further from reach, but a hunting flock coming into an area is unaffected by human presence. (or in my case my presence, and that solves the asking about ‘human?”)
EE and I had reason to travel north and stopped into Greenvale shopping centre for lunch, and on a whim, as we were near, “Let’s go and walk down the Providence Road track”. Now the alternative was a long dreary drive home on the ring road, so as the Banjo said, we went.
We weren’t going to the back paddock and were in a bit of a hurry, but a quiet walk down to the old dam area and the forest in the area can be profitable, and we started off. A red-cap pair distracted us and I walked the last few hundred metres to the back paddock to peer through the chain mesh. And. The gate was unlocked! Access!!!!
The fox, must be deceased,or as Python put it. “This fox is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-FOX!!”
Dilemma. With only a minimum of equipment, would we make a walk, or as time was not on our side, just go with our original idea. EE pushing through the gate sort of decided the next step.
And the forest was deadly quiet. Gone are the pardalotes, thornbills, treecreepers, honeyeaters and robins. The usual spots were all deserted. Not even the Rosellas we’d watched earlier were wrestling for spots, and above all the Red-rumped Parrots, not a sign.
Something has happened to the food chain in this piece of Grey Box. (I’ve seen flocks of 70 or more Flame Robins work here, what with as many thornbills, honeyeaters and the like a winter flock could be well over 100 birds. Easy to find because of the noise.
Deadly quiet.
EE was feeling well, so we ambled down the track to the famous “Three Way” Junction, or “Snake City” depending on whose telling the story. The last of our ‘cuppa’ was finished and we were pondering the drive home, when along the top of the ridge among the old downed trees, a wing flap. Then another. It was the old ‘Three Brothers hunting group”. 3 bold males, and a number of juveniles, and at this late stage of the season with the females starting to regroup.
Gone were thoughts of a freeway, and an early dinner and tv.
Not easy to work with a group of birds that don’t want to be approached, but in the end we managed a few useable images. And learned a few things about the late season feeding. No longer trying to find quick food among the moss beds, these birds were after much bigger, bulking up food. Which means, sit, jump, eat, move on. Hard to keep up with 20+ birds going hard at it.
In the middle of all this, a resident Red-capped Robin came down to see what all at the fuss was about. After all its been nearly 6 months since he’s had humans stomping all over his front lawn.
He reminded me of Yosemite Sam of Looney Tunes, so I named him Sam.
One of Sam’s great lines slightly paraphrased seemed to be on this little bird’s mind as he hopped about watching the activity. “Tripod holes, Some low-down ornery photographer is gettin’ tripod holes all over my Forest. ”
Yosemite Sam said it this ways. :”Great horny toads … a trespasser gettin’ footie prints all over my desert”
In the end they moved one time too many and disappeared over a ridge line.(probably heading for an evening roosting spot), and the light was beating us. So we headed for the gate. Met Andrew H, on the way, and so nice to catchup after so long.
Good to have access the Bandicoot Hilton once again. Just need some reasonable weather to be able to sort out the hunting orders and have at the birds relax around us. Time is of the essence, as they will be gone by the mid of August. 3 weeks perhaps.
Here tis
The Flame of the forestWedge-tailed Eagle being given its marching orders by a very territorial Little RavenGetting close, but still a long ways to goI think this one was letting a meal digest, while it sat in the sunshine.Big juicy and more than a Robin can easily handleFemale running with the brothers.Local resident Robin. I’m going to call him Sam. As in Yosemite Sam. (Looney Tunes)One of the great delights of watching the Flame Robins hunt is watching one working methodically across an open area.
My astute reader, whoever you are, should have noted by now a few minor changes to the layout. I’m going to take a great risk visually soon and take out all the side bar material. Probably not to many of us take much notice of that stuff anymore, me thinks. Also you’ll have noted that the background has become a cork board. That is a bit of a hark back to the old website, and perhaps I’ll just bring back the coloured backdrop. But most likely the design will change somewhat.
One of the major environmental activities that Werribee Wagtails group gets involved in is the surveying of several areas every quarter to record bird numbers. The areas are pretty much fixed and each circuit reveals changing bird numbers.
Mt Rothwell is a northern outcrop of the You Yangs, and offers one of the Grey Box and original scrub areas near the You Yangs. It is also a private environmental research centre. You can read about it here
I’ve written about our previous visits and some of the activities of the centre.
Today, however it was pretty much business as usual, and we managed to locate 42 species, and some with quite good numbers, over 60+ Red-rumped Parrots, and quite a number of raptors, Brown Falcons, Black Kites, Whistling Kites and several Harriers. But the raptor numbers were a bit down. Perhaps the hunting is better elsewhere.
On the site is the remains of an old movie set. I’ve reported this as the set for the Ned Kelly Movie with Mick Jagger, but better informed it apparently is the set from the Heath Ledger version in 2003. Still, its quite in ruin, and even more dilapidated than when I saw it last time.
One of the highlights of the visit is the climb to Mt Rothwell, not a hard climb, but the view is simply stunning as its open from the East, North and West. It show off some lovely big rock faces and some isolated tors. A landscape photographers delight, if the light is right.
My astute reader, (whoever you are) will recall that I got myself a bit misplaced on a previous visit because I’d been silly enough to stop to take a photograph (actually several photographs), and was banned from carrying a camera if I came again. The next time I followed the rules, and borrowed EE’s Panasonic FZ200 for a number of shots. But, I stayed with the group.
This time hidden under my plastic bag of sandwiches and soup, I had a (shhhh, don’t tell) a camera with my favourite 18-70 zoom lens. So any rock or tree or building that appealed, I would surrupitiously ease out the camera, slip to the side of the group, and “click” hoping no one would either notice my missing presence, or hear the offending noise. And … well it seemed to work, and I survived the day. Not too many bird pics, is true to be told, but hey, who needs another bird on a stick?
Early morning drizzle mutes the coloursRed-rumped Parrots at bath
Many birds on many sticks
Sitting in the morning sunshine warming upSunlight rocks.“Glenrowan” Set“Glenrowan Hotel” SetFence line at “Glenrowan” note the metal star pickets to hold it up.Bird watching should always be this much fun.Last little spray of sunshine before the weather changed
Had some really interesting and forthright emails and comments on the last long blog on ‘why we press the shutter’. Funny how sometimes things just mesh in harmony and we all have a chance to stop and at least make a quick ponder on our special place in the photographic endeavour.
But it must be in the air at the moment, as I received an email update from Jon Young, he of “What the Robin Knows” and founder of 8 Shields Institute. For those that haven’t grasped his work, have a look at the website. He is primarily a mentor for developing the, ‘nearly lost art of understanding bird and animal language’. Sites are here Jon Young and here Bird Language. Ok, its a place to buy stuff, but look among the ideas. They also have a Free 8 week course, which is really a condensation of the book “What the Robin Knows”.
Anyway marketing pitch off, I got an email from one of his colleagues Josh Lane, and you can find the whole page here, Seeing with New Eyes
He puts it best this way, and I’m lifting out a couple of paragraphs, so hope the thought police are not on the job too much. Check out Josh’s full quote above.
“On one level, this ability to perceive and behave unconsciously helps us in daily life, as we can learn to do many things at once without having to think about them. On the other hand, we can too easily go into “autopilot” and miss out on a lot of the world around us.
The next time you walk out of your front door, or go to your sit spot, set the intention first to approach that place with beginner’s mind, as if you have never been there before.
Open your senses up. Pretend to be a tourist admiring the architecture of the building, or a birder who is on a distant safari watching and listening keenly for exotic new birds. Let nothing escape your attention.
Develop this practice for a week. Perhaps that same tree you have walked by 100 times before will catch your attention in a new way; maybe the afternoon light will hit the branches in a way you have never noticed before. Or, a flower growing in the cracks of the sidewalk will call to your senses and remind you of the beauty of the earth. Let your awareness be open and expansive, as you see familiar places with new eyes!”
Think this is what I’m wrestling with in my own work. As I replied to Steve Hayward He of Devophoto here on Flickr;
” I’ve been struggling of late between the need for technical shots of details and the need to develop a sense of place for the bird.”
And I think now that Josh has sussed it out. Being so conscious of the right exposure, and the right location, and the right angle and the difficulty of filling the frame, I’ve been forgetting to look, to be open and expansive and to see the familiar with new eyes.
We’ll see. (pun intended).
Brown Falcon on a turn. She has a nesting site in mind, I’m sure. She, because it is the larger of the pair.Black Kites dancing together in the late afternoon sunshine
This one is carrying what looks to be a large tuft of grass. He(?) scooped it off the top of the river sand cliffs.
With all the mice they are consuming, the high octane fuel is filling them up.
Most here would know that I am a Flickr addict. I love to log on, post a picture of two from my latest time out in the field and have developed a good range of Flickr friends who also share their work. But one of the limitations that Flickr has for me as a story teller is the inability to keep a story line intact. No point in posting 15 images there, as after the first couple, most will move on to the next posting. (I speak as much as from personal experience as anything else). There is only so many times you can post, “Oh, great photo of a Little Button Quail”.
Birds as Poetry blog I’ve always wanted to be a visual diary of the birds that we come across. We, being in the first instance, my muse, best friend, partner for life and finest critic, Dorothy she of the EE moniker. We, sometimes includes those who might take the risk and travel about with me. Mr An Onymous, Neil A, Ray, and Richard A (he of the Woodlands List fame) being all well known to the long term reader (whoever you are!)
One of the challenges I guess a bird photographer faces, is that sometimes the light, the bird and the area just don’t come together in a cohesive way, and over on Flickr I created the “Not Terribly Good Club” (apologies to Stephen Pile who created the “Not Terribly Good Club of Great Britain” which eventually had over 30,000 members, and thus failed its own test!) that listing at least gave me a chance to put up work that I’d always hoped would encourage people that sometimes in spite of our efforts the photography process, like any good art reaches into the soul of the artist, but not always does the result achieve the intended result.
Today, I received an email from Earthbound Light by Bob Johnson. Now I’ve never met Bob, but often his writing vibrates with my own thoughts and I think, “I wish I’d said that”.
Been pondering the past few days about how many more, as EE succinctly states, “How many more pictures of a bird on a stick does the world need?” Which has always got me to pondering why take another photo? (not Why take another photo, but rather why Take another photo. ) And I think Bob sums it up beautifully in his blog today. I don’t have permission to quote him directly. (Very conscious of Intellectual Property Rights, and copyright issues), so please feel free to pop over to the page and take a gander.
He talks to the photo moment as: absorbed in my own process and perception. With the resulting image being a sum of what went into the making, the subject, the lighting, the angle of view and the photographer. And I might add the enthrallement of those who view the images as it reaches out to their perception.
What struck me was the concept of the utter simplicity of the present moment, as the shutter is pressed. Only you, and I, will see the bird, the mountain, the party, the moment, in that one single unique way. So does the world need more birds on a stick. Probably not, but the process is to me such an extension of the moment that I observed and absorbed, that at another level, there just cannot be too many birds on sticks or bird in the air images.
Now, if, by some quirk of fate, you’ve read all the way down here, you probably think, “hmm, forgot to take his tablets today,” or more charitably, “I wonder where this is going. ”
I’m hoping it will mean more posting of the story of the birding day in this blog.
Not much rambling of words, but a look into the insight of what ‘we’ saw during the time out. Flickr still gets my attention, but I won’t have the pressure of tying to create a coherent poem out of unrelated photos. Will the quality be better here or there. In other words, do I really hang out to put the best images I can make on Flickr, or include them here to a much smaller audience. (Hmm, yet to tell how I’ll deal with that). But it will mean more shots of what ever Button Quail or its equivalent ‘we’ run across and draws us into their lives for even a brief instant in the universe.
So, here is a few from an hour or so among the birds on the Werribee River Park.
In the words of Bob Johnson, “Next time your out photographing, (Or birding), stop, and pay attention. Thanks Bob.
Snugglepot and Cuddlepie. Two really friendly Supeb Blue-wrens who entertained us with the antics.Just lookin’ for a home. A Brown Falcon that has taken over part of the park as a territory, and wishes everyone to know about it.Late sun glistens on the wings of the vocal Brown FalconSparrows, fleeing from a bathing moment. The approach of the Falcon was enough to set off a Magpie Lark, and its first high-pitched call had the sparrows on the move as one.Two recently fledged Black-shouldered Kites waiting for Dad to move that raucous Brown Falcon on.Precision flying team. Not yet, but they are beginning to learn to hover in light breezes. Part of those games include close passes with one another.
Way down in the bowels of Flickr, back about March 2011, is a photo of a Brown Falcon on a Fence. It’s a shot that has always been in my “Signature Series“. It was made on my very first ever trip down to the Western Treatment Plant, and I found it just as I was leaving, with the late afternoon sunshine gracing the bird. It stood its ground on me and I just waited. So did the bird. Eventually a small breeze blew past, and the bird took to wing. It threw straight into the sunshine, and I only got the one shot.
Its been up on Flickr for quite a long time, and I received an email from one of the editors of Wildlife Magazine, a few months back looking for images for an article on Brown Falcons. So they published it in the latest Edition of the magazine, Winter 2014, vol 51, No. 2 supporting an article by Dr Penny Olsen. The article is titled Snake Charmer The Brown Falcon. My mate Paul Randall of wingsonwire, (see the sidebar for the address) also had a featured shot of a Brownie with a snake for a meal.
And in the same magazine, a lovely shot of a Dingo by Andrew Alderson also a Flickr mate. Here’s his Flickr address.
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 