Been awhile since I’ve posted, but its been lack of good weather more than anything.
The area close to home, on the Werribee River Park, that I’ve taken to euphemistically calling ‘The Office”, has an amazing number of raptors, and I thought I’d introduce them and what they are up to.
On the roadway in, just over the Geelong Freeway, there is a fence line and a few old pines. Here a pair of Black-shouldered Kites have just flown their two orange and cinnamon young. In the same tree line a pair of Black Kites appear to be setting up house, if not already at work on brooding. Next tree or three down, is a pair of Brown Falcons. Not nesting yet, but certainly staking out their claim to the territory. Much to the anger of the Black-shouldered Kites.
Down the road a little just before the carpark off in the paddocks a second pair of Brown Falcons are at work on territorial rights. Also regularly in the area a pair of Wedge-tailed Eagles, although the moment, it probably is just a convenient perching location.
At the carpark proper, a pair of Black-shouldered Kites and their recently fledged three teenagers. Not more than a dozen trees down from them is a pair of Black Kites and a nest that is work in progress. I’ve not checked up close, but there is either brooding or feeding going on. The male seems quite adept at pursing a laden Black-shouldered Kite and getting it to release its mouse capture.
A pair of Brown Falcons are constantly in the trees just off the river cliffs line, and I’d be tempted to say its a likely spot for a nest.
Further out in the field and well away from my prying lens is a pair of Australian Kestrels, and again they are too early for nesting, but are certainly building good pair bonding.
Combine that with the regular visits by any number of Whistling Kites and the area is certainly busy. A few days back an arrow shaped bird sped through the trees and caused quite a stir among the smaller birds and the one really good look suggested Peregrine Falcon, and I’ve seen one briefly on the fence line on the way in.
So here are a few of the birds at work. The food in the area must be exceptional to support such a range of nesting and preparing birds.
Recently fledged pair. In training.One of two Brown Falcons that are using these trees in the river flats.Wedge-tailed Eagle, fences make good perches.The wind was much to strong for this trio to practice their hunting skills.The trio in the wind.Dad with a mouse, but he’s waiting for a chance to deliver without losing it to the Black KiteA Black Kite circling, hoping to take a mouse from a Black-shouldered Kites.Brown Falcon, near a favourite perch.Territory is everything. This is a pass on a Brown Falcon to get it to move away from the fledglings.Posts make ideal perches when there are so few tall trees.That fence again.
A long time ago, in years, I was a simply a Landscape Photographer. I happened to live quite near the Woodlands Historic Park, just opposite Melbourne Airport. The Moonee Ponds Creek has its head waters in the area, and the Creek at this end is not permanent water, but draws from the surrounding hills and channels the water down toward the Yarra.
The watercourse was, and still is a prefect habitat for the majestic River Red Gum, and there are many fine examples of these trees in the park. Some of them no doubt older than European Settlement. It is pretty awesome to stand under these wonderful trees and ponder all the things that they have seen come and go.
Now, as I mentioned, in days of yore, I would roam these paddocks and valleys in search of the right light, the perfect moment, the touch of mist or the brilliance of the light upon the massive trunks to make great landscapes. I also in those days had a huge tripod, which I seemed quite capable of lugging for miles. Some of you won’t have heard of Filum, but it’s not a four letter word alone, it was the medium of preference for photographers all those years ago. Big filum. Large sizes. No megapixels, and remarkably heavy and slow lenses to use on equally heavy and awkward cameras.
But times change.
I moved to digital very early in the development. (Easy to say, worked for a company that had both a foot embedded in the filum market, and dabbling in the development of digital technologies.)
But my love of light, shapes, tones and textures that make those landscapes work still drove me.
Until.
One morning, about 10 years back, I was returning to the carpark, and stopped to take a break at a park picnic table. A Willie Wagtail flew past. Not the first one I’ve ever seen, but it flew back again. After a few minutes I became aware of a lot of Wagtail chatter going on about 20 m, away and decided to see what it was all about. To my delight, surprise, awe and enchantment, the two Wagtails were hard at work building a nest, and explaining in Wagtailese to one another the finer points of nest building. Nor did they seem at all concerned by my presence. So, wandering back to said tripod, (I was still using for the digital cameras.) I picked my longest lens (a 200mm f/2.8 ) and moved it all close enough to take some shots of this activity.
Willie Wagtails are a remarkable combination of Black and White. The two most difficult tones to reproduce well. As any formal wedding photographer, or rock band enthusiast, or vehicle photographer, or just about anyone who photographs high contrast subject will tell you. Still on the point. I was thrilled to see the nest develop, and came back the following day, sat with the birds and watched them at work. The following day, she had laid an egg, and then next couple of days began the process of hatching the young. In the end, flying 4 big fat juveniles. More to photograph.
Now this monologue better go somewhere. From that moment on, I was hooked on photographing birds. So every word and image you see here, and ever pic thats on Flickr and is in mags, calendars and cards is the result of two squabbling little birds.
The only thing I’ve leaned about bird photography is its obsessive. I no longer even attempt to explain. “Oh, I’m obsessed”, is my standard answer.
Which bring us to a trip along the track at The Office, and a Willie Wagtail that came across the paddock to first harass me, then to settle, and then to follow me down the fence line taking insects as it went. Most every birdo will have come across a bird on a fence. It’s about 3 posts away. Too far for a good shot. You move in. The bird moves 2 more posts. You move in, it moves 2 more posts. etc etc, until 10 posts seperates.
And this Wagtail was no exception. But, by not hurrying, I managed to get the gap down to about 2 posts. Then things changed. The game became: How close can I let this dude get, before I show my disdain and move on. And still I kept advancing on its position, until we were 1 fence post apart. Then for its own reasons, it began to feed in the road and grass verge near me. Still I advanced and in the end, this amazing bird for no reason other than its own, landed by my foot, hunted, and then kind of flew around me, landed and repeated the process. Now it would land on the fence wire and I could move in to fill the frame. “Do you think this side, or that side suits me best?” Should I wag my tail? And so my love for these delightful little birds was rekindled.
Now its true I could fill Flickr with heaps of shots of wagtails, but rather than do that here is a short selection from a delightful 3o mins or so with a very elegant and relaxed bird.
Too close, too close, fly away.Never too sure about you humans. You all look the same to me.At moment of launch.Wow, look at what I caught. Thanks for stirring it up.To deal with these little beasties, one must change the sharp end around. Claws work.Gotta be careful of the sharp bits. Snip, snap.Now you see it now you don’tWell, stir up some more.Is this my best side?
EE and I had a few spare hours on Sunday morning, but as we went to bed, the outside temps, and the icons on the news weather maps didn’t look all that good, so we decided on a long breakfast.
But looking out the window in the morning with blue sky, golden sunshine, the only thing was to bolt breakfast and head out. We decided “The Office” deserved a quick look, and its only a few minutes away, and before you can say, “Let’s go”, we did.
The Werribee River Park, (The Office) is just across a bridge over the Geelong Freeway, and once off the tarmac, its pretty much paddock. Some very old Pines must have been part of a homestead in the area, I suppose, and last week I’d spotted two Black-shouldered Kites sitting together on the tops of the pinecones. So I figured, that they might have been considering a nesting. How wrong was that!
Not only had they considered, but had just fledged in the past couple of days, two really healthy and vocal youngsters. The young sat on old stump of the tree and were fed in the sunshine. Well done Mum.
We’d also noted a pair of Black Kites in the same tree line, and they were still in attendance, no doubt there is a nest in the offing.
After a few minutes with a lone Brown Falcon a bit further on we stopped at the Park carpark. And immediately the harsh screech of a female Black-shouldered kite was joined by the higher pitched screeches of young ones. And then slowly it dawned on me.
I’d been watching and reporting on this pair for the best part of 3 weeks now, and was pretty convinced with all the activity that they were “planning” a nesting. But no. Wrong again!!!
She has just fledged, not one, not two, but three, beautifully marked birds. No wonder the male was so busy catching mice the past couple of weeks. Put mouse in one end, and out pops a beautifully fledged cinnamon and ginger Black-shouldered Kite.
Now all this activity does not go unnoticed by those who make their living by preying on others. A Black Kite swept up from the River flats and hung around the young. At first I thought it might be going to threaten the young, but its true intent was even more devious. Dad flew in with a mouse and the Black Kite began harassing the much smaller bird, for his catch. In the end, better speed, and skilful harrowing, caused the Black-shouldered Kite to drop the mouse. And the Black moved straight on to it as it fell. But now Mum and Dad were free to harass the Kite and in the end it moved away. It tried again later, but both birds were not to be caught off guard again, and Mum took the prize to the nest tree and the young followed her down into the top of the tree where the nest must be concealed. (It’s too far in behind chain fence for me to get a good looksee.)
Then of course, the weather changed, time ran out, and we decided to retreat for the day.
But with 5 young birds in such a small area we’ll no doubt be back. Oh, and we saw the family of Flame Robins, as well, but didn’t get that close.
“OK, you got me out here, how about something to eat”. One young with harassed adult.Just a quick, ‘hitch up” of the mouse for better travelling.The beautiful markings of this fledgling are shown as it tucks into some nice mouse.Yum, the tail is always the best bitThat rich ginger and cinnamon deserve a bit of sunlight to see at their best.Female calling to her young as the Black Kite sweeps by.Dropped it, or Got it, depending on which kite. Not pinsharp, but the mouse is visible in free fallThe probable nest site. She took a mouse under the canopy and two of the young followed.Family portrait.
This past Sunday was one of those great days for photography. Beaut sun, a little cloud, some good breeze for the big birds. I wrote previously about the pair of Australian Kestrels at play, but while all that was going on a small clan of Flame Robins was feeding in the area.
I was sitting on the ground with my feet hanging over the cliffs, like a schoolboy at the pier, watching the work of a Black Kite over the nearby treeline when I heard the familiar “chip chip” contact call of a Flame Robin. There on the roadway behind me were two males, feeding, with several juveniles on the fence line behind.
I moved to a spot next to a melaleuca shrub, and settled in to see if they would approach. And down the road they marched. It gave me the chance to get enough shots to be able to differentiate between them. One became Mr Yellow Feather because his bright yellow chest feather, and the other Mr Red, as he is a brilliant Scarlet red. While they didn’t get very close, it was a start.
I worked out that the turn around time in the feeding is just about 30 minutes, and there was a definite pattern to the moving around, with the exception that bike riders and people with dogs would turn them to fly way down the paddock and be inaccessible So I sat and waited and within the 30 mins they were back. In this clan there are 4 or 5 juveniles, perhaps 3 females, and the two males. One of the females is the Matriarch, and she is the one which controls the clan movement. One chirp from her and they are gone.
Because of the lack of trees in the area, its much harder photographic work than the birds in a Grey Box forest with plenty of perching locations. But they manage. The fence lines are the obvious, and the big patches of grass also work well.
My closest encounter for the day was the Matriarch. She landed in the back of the melaleuca bush behind me and I could hear her distinctly calling to the group, and I may be wrong, but it seemed the conversation went like this.
“See this big dopey photographer, stay away.” “I don’t like the look of that big eye he keeps pointing at us.”. “I’m going to get closer for a better look”. Then an alarm chirrup, and she flew right by my ear, less than a handspan away. Heard the little wings coming, but I’ve learned that its best not to react, as the bird already has the flight path worked out. What I noted was the whirring of the wings was normal flight sound, not the fast pulsing sound of a panic mode.
She landed directly opposite me on the fence and another Chrrriip, which I took to be “He’s probably benign, you can ignore him”, then she hunted on the grass on the far side of the fence. “Benign” is a term that Jon Young uses in his book, ‘What the Robin Knows’ and refers to local birds concluding that the human presence is of no threat, and they will work in settled, not panic mode. A young cheeky juvenile landed near by, and I concluded that the lesson for me was over for the day.
The office. Looking along the wide river cliffs over the river plain below. In the flood of 2011 water was part way up the cliffs.Bold male holding his station as I approached.Mr Yellow Feather on fence.Probably a female or juvenile female.Matriarch in the field.The Matriarch. What she says goes. She has just done a fly-by to determine my danger to her brood.
The Matriarch, satisfied I was no threat she dropped off the fence to hunt. Not big panic wing flap here.Mr Red. Brilliant rich red chest.Mr Yellow Feather, with a hint of his yellow chest feather.Young male, juvenile. Showing his developing feathers.Matriarch, ready to leave and take the clan with her.Mr Red, with a score. He came down the fence line toward me to prepare the bug. I took that as an acceptance. (Of course I could be wrong and it was just a handy perch.)Bug preparation 101. First belt it a few times on something solid. Bits of bug dust going in all directions.
Nice to be working in the new “Office”. I’ve had a few trips now to the Werribee River Park and although its fairly open area with few trees, it does have a bit of activity across its open paddocks.
The river has cut through the old sand hills and river flats and is about 300m or more wide in some places. Its an easy stroll along the cliff edge, and the birds use the updraft to advantage. Sitting, watching, drinking Earl of Grey, and the toughest part is carrying in the tripod with the Wimberley head.
Today the weather was a photographers delight, light fluffy clouds and plenty of blue sky for brilliant sunshine, simply add birds.
Apart from a range of Kites, Whistling, Black and Black-shouldered, along with a particularly vocal Brown Falcon, there is at the moment a pair of Australian Kestrels working in the fields, but a long way from the road way. But, the raucous shriek of the female, and the piping hunting call of the male, alerted me that something was going on. I eventually located them and they were preforming mock battles, he mostly coming in from above, she turning to repel him with her outstretched talons. The duet was both vocal and aerial, and I kept hoping it would drift towards my location, but, typical of Kestrels, they kept control of their position in the sky and stayed well down field.
None the less, I thought you might like to see a little of the ballet.
The images are pretty large crops, and I apologise for that. No Mr Darcy and Elizabeth here.
For those who can peer closely enough, the Male is the smaller, and has a single bar on a grey tail. She is dressed in her best brown, cinnamon, and has the swept back tail with the multiple bars.
I’ve discovered a new park area (new for me), closer to home. It cuts along the ridge of the Werribee River plain near the Werribee Mansion. Its called the Werribee River Park, and is run by Parks Vic. It butts up to the very eastern edge of the Western Treatment Plant. I’ve looked at the area on a map a number of times and pondered how to get there as it seems to have bike track that connects to the Federation Bike Track that runs all the way back to Altona and beyond. Not wanting to lug all the gear in over 3 kilometres or more I’ve been thwarted by no road access.
But, it seems, wrong I was. A road access to a small carpark at the top of the ridge is indeed available, and as it runs on the WTP boundary, has lots to offer the raptor photographer. And. I may not have mentioned this elsewhere, but it also has a population of Flame Robins in residence for the winter. So what’s not to like.
Access is via New Farm Road, past the Melbourne Water Discovery Centre and over the Geelong Freeway, and just before a very well locked and secure gate a small dirt road marked with an explanatory sign “Werribee River” leads onto the road to the carpark about another kilometre in. Out of the car, and the first thing I discover is a pair of Black-shouldered Kites who are obviously thinking seriously about a nesting run.
I suspect that the run of very warm weather has helped the mouse population and Mrs Mouse has seen it as her bound duty to extend the population as much as possible. To of course the great delight of the Kites.
Had an hour or so to myself and decided to see what the afternoon sunshine would bring. No great load up here, simply put in the lens and camera, drive for 15 mins and sit in the carpark. About as hard as bird photography can get.
Said pair are quite along in the relationship, the female has probably completed the nest. I would hazard a guess at its location from her perching positions. He on the other hand now has to prove his ability to provide food. So while she sits high on the tallest dead limb, offering him her screeching cry for both encouragement and direction, he sets out to provide the snacks.
The river has cut through the old sand here and at this point is several hundred yards wide, and the cliffs are 20 m or so high. The grassland is an obvious place for Mrs Mouse and her tribe and so the Male is readily able to fly along the old river flat and hunt. When he is over the plain he is probably not much more than 30m or so over the ground, which for a photographer on the top of the bank is such an advantage as he is directly in front or below my camera line.
All I have to do is wait. And not for long. I reckoned he was getting a mouse about every 10 minutes. His hunting time was down to a minute or less. And out of about 8 strikes I saw he was successful on 6 of them.
So he hunted and I watched. Swinging the 300mm around became a bit of a chore, so next time, the tripod and Wimberley head will be part of the deal.
Enjoy.
Evening sunshine gives nice shadows for him to work in.I noticed he always works with the light over his shoulder. My Mum’s best advice to budding photographers.The legs down are part of the balance and positioning.Closing in.That little dude is down there somewhere.All concentrationTurning into the light to come round for another run.Another one bites the dust.All feathers and legs at work gaining the balance for the stationary head.No, I’m not on the tucker list.So great to be able to almost reach out and touch him.
Had to motor to the northern subs today for a doc appointment. Well I got that out of the way, and EE and I decided to make use of the time and take a trip down to Woodlands Historic Park and see if the Flame Robins had learned how to fly over the off limits to humans, Backpaddock.
The paddock is a secure area of about that is part of the Eastern Bandicoot Re-establishment programme. Currently locked because a fox has managed to get into the area and threaten the bandicoots. One bandicoot making not much more than a take-away snack for a hungry fox. Fox,by the way, was let into the area, by some banana-boat who propped the secure gates open. The team from the Conservation Volunteers and Park staff have been working since the incursion in early April 2014 to nail the little critter. Apparently at this stage without success.
Grew up in the country, (The Mallee), we had a Fox-terrier Blue-heeler Cross. She was able to smell a fox spore from out the back of a ute. Took about half an hour to find said fox. And little more than a few seconds to despatch it. Quick, clean, neat, and cost effective. Now, “Dog” (that was her official name. Said so on the council paper) is of course no longer with us. But given her efficiency, many a scalp hung on the fence line. Dog would explode off the back of the ute and be on the job in about a millisecond. So I’m personally a bit non-plussed that in this day and age, its taken from April to now (early June) to find, locate, and despatch a fox that is within a fenced off area.
I can’t imagine someone is standing in the middle of the park calling ‘Foxy, Foxy” or expecting said criminal to come out with its paws up. No doubt the foxes of the 21st century have GPS and close contact radar warning and other technical stuff to improve their efficiency.
But, I digress.
Public Disclaimer: The team working on the Bandicoot programme have done some fantastic work, in spite of some complex issues and I sincerely wish them all the best of success. My poor bird photography doesn’t come anywhere in the scheme of things. Good on ya Travis.
We went instead to visit Jack of Eastern Yellow Robin fame. And about as fast as “Dog”, Jack came bounding out to see us. It was more like him visiting us, than the other way around. Took great delight in sharing a bath in some water EE had tracked in, and then spent time preening before speeding off. And so did we. Not much else happening in that area, Except, funnily enough, as we were walked back to the car, just down toward the rangers work area, we spotted two Foxes.
Pretty easy to pick. Brown looking things, with long tails and sharp teeth. We watched them go about their respective businesses and smiled that poor old “Dog” would not have been allowed in the park to deal with them.
Back at the car we travelled further out and were able to find our new friend “Ambrose” and he looked resplendent in his lovely rose red dress. Then to our surprise he had a friend, A female Pink Robin. She was a little less enthusiastic for the camera, but it was a good find. Think we also have Ambrose’s lady, “Rosy” in there somewhere too, but couldn’t make the connection. On to the further east toward Sunbury and we found several Flame Robins, and the figured it was lunch time, so moved on again.
After lunch it was time for home, and EE suggested why not go back past Woodlands, call into Providence Road and have a look for the Red-caps we’d seen on a previous trip. Suits me. On the way down to the dam area, we came across a family of White-winged Choughs. Very intent about their business, and we were soon surrounded by about 30 birds. Lots of choughness going on. And even mutual preening.
And then, “Peter” the male Red-capped Robin turned up, and his lovely little lady. She is without doubt the smallest Red-capped Robin I’ve ever seen. Minute, not petite. To top if off a pair of Scarlet Robins came down the roadway, and we’d the chance to write up 6 different Robins for the day. Not a bad effort considering.
Dog would have been pleased with our hunting experience.
Jack, the Eastern Yellow Robin, The cocked tail is not for my benefit, he’s connecting with Jill a little further in the scrub.Ambrose.Pink Robin. Female. Nice to see.Contemplative Flame Robin. Perhaps he’s wondering why we aren’t working with his family in the back paddock.Female Flame Robin.Two Flame Robin blokes, have a bit of a discussion about photography. Not often to see them in the same tree, but they were chatting away.Scarlet Robin, male, not the best I’ve done, but nice to see him.Hiding, but I found her. Scarlet female.All Choughed up and no where to go. A sentry took time out for a bit of choughcleaning.Peter, the Red-capped Robin. Almost working with me now.Such a tiny female Red-capped Robin.
One of my Flickr mates has put up a blog of his recent experience with a beautiful Wedge-tailed Eagle, and rather than me ramble on, here is the address.
Been awhile since I posted, but what with this and that and a few days birding, here and there, well, it just all got by me.
After the last week or so of near perfect weather in Melbourne, with light winds and plenty of warm sunshine in the 20s C, its been more than a body can do to keep up with the places to find birds. But, all good things they same come to an end.
Today was scheduled to be rain in the morning, rain at lunchtime, rain in the evening, rain. So no one seemed particularly excited when I suggested a trip to Eynesbury to look for Flame Robins. (would have gone to Woodlands Historic Park, but the Backpaddock has been locked out to mere mortals, as the great Fox hunt proceeds, at glacial speed. 40 hectares, one fox, it a bit of a needle in a haystack, and I suppose quite a setback to the Eastern Barred Bandicoot Programme. Not that the Flame Robins know, and so their winter visit to the park goes on, and the best we mere photographers can do is press our nose up against the cold chain fence, and ‘wonder where they are!” Oh.
So Eynesbury is an option. EE suggested she had her sock drawer to sort out, and Mr An Onymous, suggested I watch the weather, but in the end he too was inclined to make the journey. Cool.
Can’t say I was too impressed when early in the morning, I was awakened by the patter of rain on the roof. Oh, it’ll pass quickly, doona back over head, and when I next awoke, I heard the patter of rain on the roof, Oh, it will be the last of the showers, back under the doona. When I next awoke, the rain was, well, pretty consistent. Hmmm, then the ‘Rooster” call from the iPad and it was time to prepare for the imminent arrival of the Blackmobile with its cargo. So I put the Dryazabone as the first to go in. Never know do you! Then the cameras and some dry gear for them.
Right on cue, Mr A arrived, and we set off, nice and early. and the rain, well, it had stopped, and some claimed to be able to see ‘blue’ sky on the horizon. Like, yeah!
To round out the story we found some robins, drank some tea, didn’t get wet, and by lunchtime as we were wending our way back to the car, the blue sky took over and the sun streamed through the forest. Lovely. So we turned aside, for just one more look see, and to our delight found some Diamond Firetails. First for Mr A, so that was good.
Then it all happened. Standing in the sunshine, we were assailed by the frantic Skwarks, and Chatter of a Brown Falcon, looking up we saw her belting across the sky, and in pursuit of a band (about 4) Whistling Kites. Then it was obvious the Kites were after a Wedgetailed Eagle. That was pretty evident when the sky directly above us went dark as the huge bird juggled for position in a thermal to rid itself of the pursers. But Kites are pretty much a match for a low level Eagle and managed a few good strikes among them. So much so that at one stage, they kind of got tangled up in the exit from the dive and had to avoid one another.
Every body wants to get into the act, (Jimmy Durante), and the Brown Falcon, full of the chase, was in as well. However the Eagle, simply found the thermal, and no Falcon can gain the uplift power of those huge wings and soon she was completely outclassed and had to drift back exhausted. The Kites on the other hand, not only masters of the thermal, but full of energy to gain extra height by hard work got well above the Eagle and then took turns at attacking it from behind and above.
The Eagle drifted higher and the Kites soon had to work harder to keep up with it. What amazed us the most was the size of the Eagle compared to the size of the Kites. Tend to see the Whistlers as big raptors, but really they are pint sized alongside the Master of the air.
With the sunny day well established it was time for a late lunch and a pie shop I know on the way home.
Enjoy.
Early in proceedings, the noisy Brown Falcon mixed it with the Eagle and with the Kites.The size of the kites against the eagle is well seenGaining height was relatively easy for the KitesEach kite played its own game in the pursuit.Hard strike on the EagleSometimes in their enthusiasm they got a bit tangled up with one another.Late in the proceedings and an exhausted and very quiet Falcon breaks off the pursuitIf they could get the Eagle to change direction they had a chance to slow it down.
Birdlife Australia, in conjunction with bayside councils and environmental groups all across the country have been running an awareness programme titled “Farewell to Shorebirds”
They have a web site, and videos and information about this year’s migration of these determined little flyers. Farewell to Shorebirds.
The events culminate (I think that is the right word) with “World Migratory Bird Day 2014” This is a United Nations sanctioned event and lots of events on the day bring an awareness of the efforts of those who are working with the birds and the supreme efforts of the birds themselves as they make their 14,000km trip to their breeding grounds in Siberia. Here is the link to the international organisation.
At a local level, the Hobsons Bay City Council and Birdlife Australia set up a morning of activities and information to celebrate the day. As it turns out, The day the UN has set aside for World Migratory Bird Day, is the second Sunday in May. Which as it turns out, coincides with our normal, “Mothers Day”. The perfect opportunity for Spin Doctors and Word Smiths.
The event this year was held in a foreshore park in the Altona area, and as a ‘free’ bbq was promised, there seemed no reason not to abandon normal programmes and head on down.
The weather was sunny day, light breeze and relatively low tide. So the shoreline had lots of ducks, swans, pelicans, oystercatchers, terns, spoonbills, herons, egrets and more ducks. But no waders! Of course not, Silly. They’ve left for the north. So we stood around and pondered the flight of about 40gm to Siberia. That is about 12 jellybeans. And as the festivities, (and the bbq) got going we were able to view the variety of birds that call the mouth of the Laverton Creek home.
The local Mayor, Birdlife Aust dignitaries and the local ranger, gave some interesting stats on the birds, their habitats, their travels and the like. The Spin Doctors were ahead on points as the connection to Mothers Day and the little tiny mothers, heading for the Siberian river flats was drawn to our attention. Also not forgetting the ‘daddy’ birds who were also on the way, and without, if you’ll pardon the pun, their input, the process would be pretty much doomed to failure. But I digress.
We were also alerted to the difficulty of the little travellers on their way and on the return because of the impact that human development has had on feeding areas. (A point that I have to admit that cannot be too highly stressed. Problem with a blog is you get personal reflections!) I digress.
One of the issues addressed was the difficulty of dogs running free in Dogs off Leash areas. Just happened that is where we were standing. And then like a stage managed concert, (Janet Jackson would have a been impressed), two large dogs, decided that all this talk was annoying them, and started what is commonly termed a “Dog Fight”. These were big brutes, one a German Shepherd the size of a small horse, ((Insert thought, wonder how much it costs to feed the thing for a year.) (Probably a small third world country food budget)) I digress.
So the whole event had to wait until the ‘Responsible Dog Owners’ managed to seperate the protagonists and things quietened down. Me, whenever I see a dog salivating after a toe to toe, I know that its a dog under stress, and a dead set danger to others. Still, to the credit of the speaking group, they regathered their collective thoughts and continued on. However I think the point of danger to birds, dogs, humans and the like was already well made. Well done demonstration team. NOT.
More birds, more talk, more looking, and over to the bbq we strolled. Well done team.
Thanks for all those involved in the organisation, their participation, and their friendliness and help to all who wanted to know just a little more about these wonderful travellers who call the shores of Hobson’s Bay home for part of their year. We await with interest for their return, and the return of their new offspring.
A pretty good way to spend Mothers Day, or any day.
Hobson’s Bay Mayor opening proceedings.Part of the official party. Thanks team.A collection of local inhabitants on the sands of the Laverton Creek outflowThat is why we used to call them “Spur-winged Plovers” before they were called Masked LapwingsAn Australasian Gannet way out in the bay fishingTern closer in fishingWhat its all about. Birds relaxing in the sunshine by the outflow.I know, its not a Shorebird, but this juvenile Black-shouldered Kite was just sitting around.
Given the really super weather of yesterday, we decided to make an early morning run to the Western Treatment Plant and look for some Brolga that had been sighted. So we went. Early enough for the cold to be, well, bitter. All rugged up we arrived down at the T Section area, and immediately found a number of waders that had not made the trip to Siberia. Top among them was a Curlew Sandpiper in breeding plumage. Even some of the Red-necked Stints that couldn’t get their passports stamped in time were showing the ‘red neck’ for which they are named.
At that early hour of the morning with the sun running almost horizontal across the waters, the mists can be a problem if you are facing toward the sun. But, there in the distance and the end of the road, surely, yes, its two Brolga. Not much photographic to be achieved from an overexposed, blurry shot, so we took the round trip on the roads on the bund and ended up with the ‘sun over your left shoulder dear’, as my Mother used to say.
They were both pretty co-operative, and eventually with a consenting nod, they took to the air to look else where in the Plant.
By this time, the weather man’s dire predictions were beginning to come to fruition and the light was, well, falling past average fast.
We moved up the road and found on Lake Borrie, first one flock, and then a second, of Great Crested Grebe. I’ve only ever seen them in ones and twos, but here were flocks of 15-20 all with their heads tucked back, chests out and bobbing up and down in the water. Very impressive. Also among them was an Australasian Grebe. So in a small area we had all three Grebes. Hoary-headed, Australasian and Great Crested. I’ve been told the Australasian Grebe are not found in the WTP, so this one either didn’t know the rules or had come by to visit with the relies.
We paused for the obligatory ‘cuppa’ and a Swamp Harrier rewarded us by working along the bund on the far side. I was able to watch the patient, and very precise way it works along the reed beds, quickly backing up to check on anything that is out of the ordinary, and could be used for lunch.
A little further on and we came across a drama that was about to unfold. A Swamp Harrier was being harassed by a Little Raven. Now usually this is pretty easy to score, Raven makes a few passes, Harrier ducks and weaves, and in the end both return to normal services as soon as possible.
What made this much more dangerous was the Harrier was obviously in a bad mood and in no frame of mind to be harassed. As soon as the Raven had made its first sweep by, the Harrier dodged and then turned claws out and wings working to cut off the escape of the Raven. Now the purser became the pursued, and the Harrier was more than a match for the twisting turning Raven. Its not the first time I’ve seen this, as I watched a Harrier grasp the wing of a hapless raven some time back and bring it down. Eventually damaging its wing and then despatching it on the ground. There also on the blog is the story of the Harrier taking on a Brown Falcon encounter.
The Raven took to running to the reed beds – Bad Move. This the Harrier’s best working area, so it made a direct and sustained attack on the raven at pretty much ground level. But the Raven did have the ability to turn tighter and faster, and with what can only be called bird luck it made it to the roadway, and the Harrier figured the event was a thing of the past. The Raven also decided that once was enough for the day, and took off across the paddock on the other side of the road. Phew!
All dressed up and, well, no where to go. A Curlew Sandpiper in breeding plumage.Brolgas on a mudflatPrecision Preening Team.Aerial feats of excellence. Swamp Harrier with Avalon Airport in the backgroundGreat Crested Grebe. Two large flocks were on Lake BorrieAn Australasian Grebe among its Hoary-headed relativesSwamp Harrier on the job.With a twist of the body, the head is able to examine in great detail the reeds below.Total concentrationA couple of Whistling Kites enjoying the breezes.Legs up, and the Raven suddenly senses that the tables have been turned.Hmmm what’s wrong with this picture. Harrier in hot pursuit of RavenWell able to predict and react to the twists and turns of the hapless RavenTime is almost running out for the Raven.Swamp Harrier now feeling stress reliefWhistling Kite resting from a hectic game.
The Flame Robins travel down from the Victorian High Country where they have replenished the species over summer and spend the winter in the lower country. Bit hard for a little beak to find food under several metres of snow!
Our former main area of Woodlands Historic Park has been a major stop over for them as they migrate down along the bayside areas. Some families don’t continue travelling but remain around the Grey Box forest areas at Woodlands and set up feeding territories and have been a great source of picture making pleasure for us over the years. But, we don’t have close access this year, and the couple of trips we’ve made have been blocked by a large sign on a gate explaining the need for the Parks people to manage a fox that has managed to breach the secure area for the Eastern Barred Bandicoots. So rather than having nearly a month of good work with the Flame Robins, we’ve been in a bit of a drought. Spotting the odd one or two at a distance is not quite the same somehow.
As we move into winter, the weather has also played its part in keeping us at home. After all what is the point of standing in a cold forest on a grey day with the light completely obscured by the incessant rain. Not that I’m against getting wet, just not much point photographically.
Our friends, Richard and Gwen A (he of Woodlands Birds List fame) wanted to have lunch at Eynesbury Golf Club and a bit of a walk in the forest. Again this should be a good area for Flame Robins, so we accepted the offer, and waited for a ‘reasonable day’. It arrived. Beaut cold morning. 2 degrees, plenty of sunshine and little breeze. Great. So we, EE, Mr An Onymous, and I set off early to get a good start and work up an appetite for lunch. We had previously found several robins in an area within pretty easy walking distance of the carpark and so we decided to start there. Brown Treecreepers, a few Dusky Woodswallows, a White-winged Triller and an assortment of Thornbills were enjoying the change in the weather too.
We eventually found a small family of Flame Robins, and set down to work. There is something very satisfying about sitting quietly while a dozen or more birds feed back and forth around you. These birds have the name “Petroica” which roughly translated means “Rock dwellers” and where they were working was indeed the rocky side of a slope. So we sat in the sunshine and enjoyed the activity. None seemed to really be too sure of us, but at least they allowed some good, if not great shots. But like all good days out, it was both enjoyable and a learning experience. Armed with our new knowledge of the feeding area of these birds will give us a head start next time we are out that way. And of course, with such great little subjects its going to be sooner than later.
We caught up for lunch, and then had an hour or so to wander in another part of the forest. Looked hard for Diamond Firetails, but had to settle for two Whistling Kites, and two Black Kites. On the way back the fluting call of a Little Eagle led us to some great views of a circling bird. No Freckle or Blue-billed Ducks on the club Lake, but we did see a golf ball badly sliced off the tee drop into the lake with a satisfying “perlop”.
Always a delight to see in the sunshine a male Red-rumped ParrotCalled “Rock dwellers’ they remained true to name in this part of the forestDapper ladTiny little birds always manage to get behind a stalk of grass or two.InboundA female that landed on the fence line next to where I was sittingLift off.Hunting from a low perchShowing off her lovely markingsA Jacky Winter came by to see what all the fuss was about. Perhaps it was ticking of humans for its online human list.
One part of the family was off to Sydney for a holiday. So how about we leave our car with you and go to Avalon airport? Now the cool thing about saying yes to the request of course is that Avalon is but a mere 5 minutes from the WTP. And well, we’d have to come back that way after all the farewells, and book ins and security checks, and stuff.
So we found ourselves on the Beach Road in the middle of the afternoon on a not too brilliant for photography day. The folk at the farm had taken the opportunity of the change in the weather to conduct some control burns in some of the bigger fields. And off course the raptors simply couldn’t resist the chance of fried or roasted or bbq locusts, mice, grasshoppers, lizards and the like.
As we travelled down the Beach Road, the sky was awash with larger birds. Perhaps as many as 20 Whistling Kites, twice that number of Black Kites, at least two Australian Kestrels, and an assortment of Ravens, several squadrons of Australian Magpie and innumerable Magpie Larks.
From a photography point of view, the light was wrong and the birds too far away, but the old D2xS on the 300mm f/2.8, stepped up to the challenge. So the big birds swept over the still smouldering ground, or made a landing and picked up a morsel or two. Their friends sat on the fence line and the Whistling Kites kept up a constant call. In the end, we just watched, and enjoyed them enjoying themselves.
A Black Kite became a target for a rather aggressive Whistling Kite and a sky wide battle ensued. At first the Whistling Kite was much faster, could turn quicker, gain height faster and generally outfly the Black Kite. Quite a number of direct hits from above, below and the side ensued. In the end, I decided that perhaps the Black was just taking it all and wasn’t really concerned by the output of energy by the Whistling Kite. It ended by the Black gaining height and just sailing away. The Whistler settled down for a rest on the fence.
On the other side of the road a Black-shouldered Kite busied itself in finding mice for its evening snack.
We also found a large family of Flame Robins. The males looking a treat in the sunshine. But far too far away to do them justice.
As we drove around Lake Borrie on the return home a pair of Cape Barren Geese were feeding in an open area. Really perturbed by our audacity to encroach on their feeding spot, the male gave me a lecture and wing-waving display. I apologised and we parted in good company. Just have to be more careful about sneaking up on him.
With the light finally drifting into greyness, it was considered time for home.
A burst of late evening sunlight highlights the maize against the brilliant dark sky.Red burst from a Flame Robin male, one of 4 males and about 6-8 female/juveniles in the area.Two Black Kites. They are at completely different heights.Australian Kestrel turning for another sweep over the still smouldering paddock.One post one KiteIn times of plenty everyone is friendsWhistling Kite, vs Black Kite. Probably not as one sided as it at first appeared.Completely uninterested in the bbq, this Black-shouldered Kite stuck to its larder. A mouse.Cape Barren Goose. He is giving me a lecture on my tardiness in being in his territory.Late evening light over the You Yangs
One of the newer pursuits we’ve been involved with is the Werribee Wagtails group’s Bird Surveys at a number of sites. One of those is Mt Rothwell Bio-Diversity Centre.
This area is set aside, privately funded, as a nature reserve. Details can be found in the website here.
Astute readers will recall a blog back in December 2013, when said blogger became separated from the counting group and was “lost” for over an hour or more. Now depending on who tells, the story, I was not “lost”, nor “Misplaced.”, simply a long long long way behind the leader. Nuf said.
This time, under pain of something dreadful, and probably unpleasant, I was allowed to join, but had to ensure that:
A. I did not have a camera. And
B. Would stay on the Tracks, no wandering off.
So, as the Banjo says, We went.
Pleasing day, great company and plenty of birds to see.
We stopped for lunch at the worksite kitchen area and one of the local inhabitants, an Eastern Quoll came out to see what has going on in “his patch”. These delightful little creatures once roamed the grasslands of Victoria and were so plentiful that the government placed a bounty on them at one time. Sadly there is only a handful of them left, and by 1970 or so they were considered ‘extinct’ in Victoria.
This one and its mate amused us over the lunch break by their antics and their almost complete lack of fear. Wandering around under the tables and through the forest of feet. One even accepted some offered food, but in the end just spat it out. No accounting for taste.
We then took an afternoon walk to the top of the hill and watched enthralled as Little Eagles, Whistling Kites, Spotted Harriers and Brown Falcons entertained us as they swept over the plains below.
It was also possible to see down into an old movie set of “Glenrowan” used for the Mick Jagger movie, “Ned Kelly”. The old set is in pretty bad repair, infact no repair at all. It probably speaks more to the skills of the set builders than most else. So it was interesting to wander among the buildings and see what they had recreated of the past.
Then it was time to travel home. And as we proceeded along, it was obvious that the boys had their really big toys out, and were resurfacing the road. “Expect Delays”. Ok, that can’t be too bad, but after all we were the only car on this road, and they were really big toys taking up lots of space, it was going to be a longer than Expected Delay. A kind bloke with a “STOP” sign in his hand wandered over and said, “Its going to be at least 15 minutes, mate. Do you know the way on the backroad over there.” Pointing his sign at the small road off to the right.
“Yes”, said I. Not because I knew the road, nor its destination, but rather because it was a new place to explore, and figured that any road not marked, “No Through Road” must go somewhere. So, as the Banjo says, We went.
First we turned right, then left, then right and right again then left, a bit of a bend to the left, and then right, and right again. After travelling for about 3 kms, we were about 500 meters straight line from where we started!. Great road. Then we came over a rise, and there was a great big dip in the road, and a sign post marked for the depth of the water. 9 Metres it topped at. Wow. Note to self. Remind me not to come this way in the wet.
And just when we thought it couldn’t get any better two Brown Falcons exploded from the side of the road and sat in a nearby tree. Super.
All in all a great road, and well worth re-exploring methinks.
Eastern Quoll, coming to check out what all the noise is about.A quick look around the corner from safetyThey look harmless enough, I’ll get closerReady to jump up on the veranda and see what the humans were doingA much more cautious mate.Seems to have been in the wars a bit with some part of the ear missing.Nope, human food just doesn’t do it.What are those Quolls doing in my territory. A very agitated Superb Blue Wren in actionA wonderful demonstration of precision flying from a pair of Little Eagles“Old Glenrowan” the remains of the movie set from 1970 movie “Ned Kelly”Brown Falcon
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 