With a welcome change in the weather for a sunny morning without wind, we went to check on the young carpark Kite of Madeline and Mike.
They are now old enough to fend for themselves, so we didn’t expect to see them in the old hometree.
A little searching found them in the air about 700m down the paddock. So we trudged on down. Trudged of course is a euphemism for went with high expectations and we weren’t disappointed.
As we began to count Kites in the air and on the fence posts, it became apparent that there were two families of Kites working in the paddock as we could see at any one time, six young either sitting or flying about. There was also just one adult, and its likely that this one was not Mike and he is now kept busy further afield suppling the incubating Madeline.
The six seemed to get on together pretty well, and it gave them plenty of chances for hunting as well as mock aerial battles. The young fence sitters seemed to do a lot of tail-lifting, which is a sign of territory ownership, so each one was aware of the presence of the others.
Unsure where the other three would have come from as suitable trees are a bit of a rarity in the long paddocks.
They were all happy to work from the fence posts, and allow either close approaches, or fly in close on their own. A main access track and walking trail is about a chain (about 20m) from the fences on both sides and the track are well used by walker and bicycle riders so the young were quite human tolerant.
And in the warm sunshine, with plenty of action, time just drifted by and two hours later we did trudged back to IamGrey for a spot of the Earl’s best.
We have of late been following the courtship and mating activities of a pair of Brown Falcons. You are probably familiar with Cassia, of Cinnamon, and her pale morph mate, Alistair.
If she has a nesting location chosen, it’s still very much a secret, and she certainly is not showing any signs of incubating. However they are both favouring two trees and no doubt we’ll know soon enough
Cassia, of Cinnamon is relatively comfortable with our presence and has been known to fly onto branches near where I’m standing or sitting. Alistair on the other hand has a zero tolerance program and will take to wing well before a close approach.
The other morning, for reasons, Brown Falcon, he decided to fly out around the treelines in the two close paddocks and made several circuits that gave us some lovely views of his wing and tail details and of his masterful airmanship. I don’t think there was any aggresion, and he seemed more to be performing for her, before flying off to hunt for a morsel or two to bring in as she waited on the very top of an Umbrella pine. (Pinus pinea)
Not much to comment on, so enjoy the circuits.
Something high up must have got his attentionHere he is dropping in from height on close folded wings to gain speed.
Wrestling, I have to admit has never been “my” sport. Too much huffing, puffing and sweaty armpits for me.
So you can imagine my surprise when I came across two White-faced Herons in the middle of a ding-dong battle.
A lot of name calling began, as they sized one-another up on the roadside. The bird, that I think, throught it owned the territory arrived with neck outstretched and loud calls to intimidate the pretender.
From there it escalated quite rapidly.
Let Battle Begin
Gracefuness is not an essential sparring technique
It might seem like chest bumping, but its designed to get the advantage
No quarter is given
It’s bar-room brawl scruff of the neck time
In the end, the challenger made one move too many with enthusiasm and less skill
And the old hand was ready to press home the advantage
That beak is good for more than just catching fish
Released, the pretender admitted defeat and flew off. Seemingly none the worse for wear, but perhaps a little wiser.
The local champion flew up and down the pond with neck outstrectched and very vocal. Now everyone knows whose pond it is.
I didn’t expect to be showing another Gannet trip so soon, but the other day, the strong northerly winds and a very low tide exposed the sand and mudflats over the end of the basalt flow into the bay, and the conditions somehow suit the shoals of fish that work along the edge of the flats.
And of course the Gannets come up the bay to feast.
There is something quite magical about watching these creatures slice through the 40kmph+ winds, a flick of the tail, an adjustment of wing angle, a feather tip control and picking the right body angle into the everchanging winds is wonderful entertainment.
Here are a few from your wind-blown scribe standing in the mudflat at the water’s edge.
One photo does not do justice to the fine control they seem to have in the strong winds
Roll over for a dive
Locked on and down it goes
In that strong wind, it was just one wingflap and a jump and it was easily airborne again
Timing, timing, oh well, Just missed the best angle on the obligatory body shake to get rid of the excess water
Pretty excited today to see several young. They seemed to not come into close to the beach preferring to work in the deeper water
Pleasing to see that rich young colour set
Because of the shallow water they don’t do straight vertical dives.
We found this Scarlet Robin lass hard at work on preparing for the next generation.
Normally I don’t pubish small bird nesting cycles (Willie Wagtails being a notable exception). You’ll note there is no photo of the nest location, and I’m pretty confident that no one is going to stumble over its location.
Only spotted her as she darted from one side of a small clearing to another. And after standing still for awhile, it was obvious she was hard at work on her little home.
The male flew in a couple of times to see how things were progressing.
In the end, I walked away thrilled to have watched the process and ever so hopeful that she would be successful, both for the species and because of her hard work paying off.
Enjoy
She came out in front of me, checked it out and disappeared again into the nest site.
It took a few moments to realise she wasn’t just hunting food, but looking for web and suitable materials
Her little beak can only carry so much stuff
A pause to discuss the progress
He seemed pleased that it was all under control
The spider web glows in the early light
I waited for one final image, she seemed to oblige and I wished her well and moved on.
+D4 had turned up for a couple of days, and we decided a trip to the Western Treatment Plant would be possible given the weather looked like it was going to be pleasant for most of the day.
Despite the need to get up early in the cold, we took an early morning run down the freeway and arrived not too long after sunup.
Breaking from usual tradition we started at the “Western Lagoons”. The clever plan was to look for, see, and photograph Black Falcon. Great idea, but not very well implemented as the Falcon didn’t seem to get out of bed early.
There is a spot about halfway along the Lagoons where the ponds are much higher than the abutting farm fields, and a water channel seperates the road on the bund of the ponds with the lower paddocks.
As we travelled along the pond road, EE took great delight in pointing out there were Brolga ahead, and sure enough, of course, you dear reader would not have doubted, she was right.
They were gathering together in the lower paddock, and eventually we saw eight of them. We sat on the upper road for around an hour or so, as it was easy to look down toward them, they were comfortable with the distance we were away, and the channel also gave them protection from close approaches. So unpreterbed, they walked back and forth, preened, feed and did a few dances and introductions.
The one thing I noted, as I sat there was because of the richness of the early morning light, was how their feathers have a most attractive sheen.
So in no particular order here are a few from the morning’s visit. ro
Assembly.
Every so often one would stop and give a call. In the still early morning air, the calls were quite powerful
The grasses and shallow water seemed to suit their feeding habits
From where I sat on the high grasses, everyso often my long lens was just too long.
Several were fascinated by clumps of grasses and merryment enused as they tossed it about and jumped around
It seemed to be a game that only one played at a time
Perhaps they were practicing for a grass throwing event at the Olympics.
It wasn’t always immediately obvious which of them were a couple, but some times two would seperate away for a quiet stroll together
The calling seemed to make the rest of the group away that they wanted a few private moments
Getting to know you
There is the overall scene. I had to borrow +D4’s zoom for the shot
Port Philip Bay is home to several colonies of Australasian Gannets. One of the larger colonies is near Queenscliffe at a man-made island called “Pope’s Eye”. The reference is a midshipman Pope who was involved in building the bluestone basalt annulus. Originally designed as a gun-emplacement to protect the fledgling colony of Victoria.
The area is managed by Parks Vic and the Portsea-Queenscliffe ferry passes reasonably close by on its journeys back and forth. There is also a live-stream camera setup, so its possible to get a sneak peak of the Gannets resting or nesting. The link to the camera sometimes is down, but today it is live on Youtube here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCB9pUbrme4 As I’m typing its a very wet and windy day on the rock.
On occasions, the Gannets will come up the western side of the bay, and at Point Cook Coastal Park, its sometimes possible to have them in close. There are some wind and tide connections that seem to favour this, and a high tide and strong northerly off-shore wind bring the fish in over the edge of the lava flow sand and mud flats and the Gannets can be seen fishing less than100m out. However it’s a bit hit and miss as to when the fish will run in, so the birds might not show at all, or be gone up the coast in what sometimes feels like the blink of an eye.
Here are a few shots from recent visits.
Australasian Gannet,
A small section of a hunting party at work.
Australasian Gannet, this is a Juvenile.
They are as smooth as silk in the air
Locked on to target
Moment of Impact. Legs tucked up for streamlined entry. They don’t catch by diving, but rather by swimming around underwater. The dive is to get them the depth where the fish are. Fairly shallow dive as the water here would not be much more than two metres over the mudflat
I’ve seen them do this, but never been able to photograph it before. When they return to the surface after a dive they lift right out of the water. So they must swim upwards very fast.
They seem to be able to pull themselves out of the water with little effort
We joined the Eynesbury Environmental Group for a walk in the local Grey Box Forest as part of the ongoing Swift Parrot Surveys. Swifties are highly mobile, nomandic and unpredictable in location. And today was quite a successful Survey day, as we conclusively proved they were Not in the area. 🙂
But a day in Grey is not be be missed and Chris L, put on another of his now famous, “Sunshine” days. Here’s a selection from the walk.
Enjoy
Maned Duck, commonly know as Wood ducks, presumably because of their tree dwelling habits
Tree Martins. Recently returned and no doubt hard at work at selecting the best real estate for their nesting operations. Soon there will be hundreds of them through the forest
Little Eagle, no trip is complete without at least one sighting of the resident Little Eagles. This one circled over us in the open
Red-rumped Parrot, a male who is busy, I suspect waiting, waiting waiting, for his mate that would be on a nest somewhere in a branch nearby. He keeps in contact with her with lots of cheery calls and wing displays.
The Eynesbury Box Forest Signature bird. We found several Diamond Firetails working through the native grasses collecting seed. Their numbers seem somewhat unpredictable, but it’s good to catch up with them on a day out.
If I had a signature bird, it would be Jacky.
There is something about these little birds that says Grey Box Forest to me, and their often approachable nature makes for great portraits.
Jacky Winter and I could do this all day
One of our sharp-eyed group found these tiny Greenhoods by the side of the track—not much more than a few centimetres high.
Fashionista Eurasian Coot is dressed to impress.
A very handsome Maned Duck showing of his impressive mane, and his lovely vermiticulation on his body.
Eastern Rosellas were in abundance, this was one of a flock of twelve or more that were working through the forest.
And just as we were leaving, another pair of Jacky Winters stopped by for a chat.
His strident one note call resounded across the paddock, to be answered by her equally raucuous cackle. Alistair was bringing in an offering snack for Cassia, of Cinnamon. They met in a treeline about 800m from where I was and I missed the noisy food exchange, but did see Alistair fly out and land in the open on an old tree.
After a suitable meal time, Cassia, swung out to land in the same tree. Interesting.
As she prepares for her nesting period, he needs to make sure she is quite well topped up to last the nearly 8 weeks of confinement when she won’t hunt for herself and relies on his constant attention.
It’s a little early for any eggs to be laid, based on previous seasons, I’d expect that to happen toward the end of September, (but who knows with Falcons).
Browns don’t build nests, they are quite the environmenally aware creatures and chose to repurpose a Magpies nest from a previous season. Maggies, don’t tend to use the same nest, preferring to purpose build. So it’s not as though the Falcons have to eject any unwanted sqautters.
With other things to do in the morning, mostly because of a strong offshore breeze bringing some Gannets in close enough for a reasonable photo, we didn’t pursue the happy couple.
On the way back from the beach, we detoured through the pine-tree-line, in case they were sitting. Foolishly I rounded a tree and without looking stumbled on to Cassia perched down low. She bolted. I castigated myself for being so clumsy.
She quickly regained composure and sat in a tree about 50m away. And watched. And I watched.
Alistair came in quickly on the wind, turned and landed on the branch just above her, and watched. She watched. I watched.
A quick wing flap and Cassia landed near him, but on the highest open branch. And watched. Then after a typical Falcon TIme Wait, she crouched over, and called him, encouraging him to mate. Alistair, it has to be said, did not need much time to consider the offer. Turning into the wind, he lightly took off, ever so gently landed on top of her bent over back, and the process of pro-creation began.
He then lifted wings and again ever so gently lifted off and away.
She relocated to another tree deeper in the pine tree line and we left them to carry on.
Enjoy
A long way down range. Great to see them together.
The strong northerly wind gave him a chance to show of his flying skills.
My fault. Apologies. Please forgive. I stumbled on her perched and startled her. She quickly recovered and landed about 50m away to wait for him.
Alistair landed on her back, ever so delicately I don’t think I saw her move under the weight
Sometimes mating is a raucous event, but this time both birds were silent.
She needs to be able to push her tail up out of the way for them to be able to make contact.
In less than 4 seconds and its job done.
Wings out in the strong breeze, he lifts of as delicately as he arrived
And a few seconds later Cassia also launches
The jury is out as to where the nest might be, but the smart money is on it being in this general location.
The four D’s had set out at Truganina Park on a lovely sunny day—which would rapidly turn into a cold, windy and squally morning—but who would know!
No sooner had we entered the park than a black and white streak sped past and landed in a tree just above the picnic shelter.
At least two loud exclamations from the D’s “There’s a New Nest Going in Up There”. And we all looked. Sure enough a lot of twitching and shaking in the leaves, and the resident Austalian Magpie was hard at work.
In the space of about 15 minutes she made 5 more trips into the tree. She was loaded with sticks and grasses and by midmorning must have been well pleased with her work.
There is a cleverness to the location, as we found out later as we sat in the shelter enjoying a cuppa of the Earl’s finest—wise move given the weather. For her high position she has great views and it gives ready access to any handouts that might be forthcoming from humans and their messy eating habits when outdoors.
Very quickly both the female, and then gliding in from a long way out, the male, arrived to see what we had to offer. These are no first time birds and have been in the area for at least 10 years or so, perhaps even more. They know all the best spots to get that handout, and she won’t have to fly far for something for her growing young.
As it happened
A flurry of feathers and she is out for another load of material.Airborne, simply gliding away from the nest siteMore twigs to build a strong nestNo time to rest and enjoy the view. Work to be doneLaying in the fine soft furnishingsPrecision Flying to deliver in exactly the right spotEndless rounds for a most important activity ahead. We wondered if she was installing wifi, nbn and wall tv.
We had on a chance stopped by to see if infact Madeline the Black-shouldered Kite had any prospects of a full nest. Whatever is going on is worth defending as she cleared out a murder of Ravens, a lone Black-faced Cuckooshrike, the two Falcons, Cassia, of Cinnamon and Alistair, and confronted the home team neighborhood watch Magpies.
The Ravens have a nest about 3 trees down from her nest, and it’s going to be an ongoing battle. In the end, she pursed the Falcons to about a radius of 600-700 metres. It was a very busy morning for a very aggressive and angry bird.
As it Happened.
The Raven was hoping it was going to be safe under the tree to work on the nest.
Maddie had other ideas, and it was time for it to move on.
The alpha female Magpie came, perhaps to negotiate, but that wasn’t going to happen
Look out. Here I come
Wisely the Maggie left the branch.
But returned and tried to look as intimidating as possible.
A more frontal attack was launched
In the end, they both landed and decided on their next tactic.
The victor, after 6 rounds. (at least). Maggie moved on. Madeline was already eyeing off the passing Falcons.
Been pondering of late about the future of Birdsaspoetry Blog. Maintaining a full library of images and keeping up with adding new posts, amid all the other things that happens in a life is certainly a challenge.
Had a quick ponder and think I’ll be publishing less of the ‘complete’ photo-journalist stories and concentrate on just one, perhaps two moments that we’ve been seeing. Fewer pictures per post, so that might be an advantage in this ‘immediacty’ age. 🙂
Have been working at making project albums on another site and am trying to figure a way to link directly to here, but. More on that another time.
Madeline and Mike at Point Cook have been working on a second clutch for the year. Progress seems to be slow and it’s hard to determine at what, if any, stage the clutch, if indeed she has layed, is progressing. The tree area is also favoured by the local Magpie clan, and a number of Little Raven pairs. (They are now busy carrying sticks and settling in). So, tree and air space are becoming a little crowed for Madeline and perhaps her progeny.
She is not having anyone put their nest in any proximity to her chosen site so a battle royal was in progress. The nifty little kite had two advantages, she can soar without using any energy—the ravens have to keep a constant wing -beat to stay up. And she has some speed advantage stooping from on high. The ravens have two advantages. Sheer numbers. There were about 12-15, and sheer cunning. While they allowed the kite to attack one or two, the others would group up for a sneak attack while she was distracted. After about 10 minutes, it all calmed down as the ravens needed to land and refresh.
Mike came sailing over the paddock with a fresh mouse, as if nothing unusual was going on.
Let Battle BeginThe little Kite did, early on, get harassedHer abilty to stoop from on high meant she could keep them moving along, herding them away from her nesting areaSpeed comes to the rescueBut she could also be ambushed by one of the many support groupWhen it was all over, Mike came in unconcerned and delivering a meal.
It’s possible on a day at the Western Treatment Plant to clock up over 100 kilometres of driving. The entire plant is over 10,000 hectares — a little smaller than Philip Island.
Some recent changes to the access areas means that those who formely had limited access may now, from the 31st of July 2023, enter what was previously the “Special Access” area and required a different key. Now, One Key, (as they say in Tolkien) rules them all.
I think it’s fair to say that these days there are three sorts of people who visit the plant.
1. The true birdo. Dedicated to seeing as many species as possible in the shortest time, and of course to find that elusive ‘visitor’ to add to the total. These folk have been the mainstay if not the major visitors for many years. Travelling every road and side road is part and parcel of the visit.
2. Now it seems that photographers are becoming the dominant “species”. Again, desiring to see and photograph as many birds in the day and be able to have them all posted to Instadump or Spacebook before anyone else. Speed of travel is their essential hallmark, and sometimes it seems to me, to resemble a Rally-cross event (I used to photograph such events a long time ago so understand the techniques)
3. The art photographer. Not yet a huge group, but growing I feel. They have a need to find a bird and provide the ‘best possible’ image of said bird that shows not only the best of the bird, but their ’empathy’ for the species. Also prepared to stand around and pontificate about the latest mirrrorless kit and lens that is a ‘game changer’. Clambering over grass, through salt-bush, crawling along the beach and the mudflats, is de rigueur for that expressive moment. Often I’ve noted of late, dressed in camo and ghillie-suits, looking more like an SAS Sniper. Willing to stop in the middle of a bund road to walk, crawl, or sneak to a spot to get that shot. Meanwhile the roadway is blocked to all other passersby. ( I know, I think I used to do this!- sans the ghillie)
A fourth visitor group, just to show I can count beyond three: is more the traveller about the plant, seeing birds and generally enjoying an outing. These days, I have to admit to fitting somewhere between 3 and 4.
We no longer do the ‘full tour’ We have a few ponds and areas that we’ll go to, sit for awhile, and then move on. Most days, it’s an early morning start, and by lunch time, it’s time to go on up the road to The Highway Lounge, and one of Gerry’s well made hot brews.
With the sun streaming in through the window at breakfast time, the other morning, it didn’t take long to abandon other projects for the day, and head on down to the WTP.
Here are a few from the day. Click on an image to move to a Gallery experience
Black Kite,Black KiteFan-tailed Cuckoo. We seem to have quite a number of these birds wintering over. This one seemed happy to sit in he sunshine and callBrown Falcon: Another bird fluffed up soaking up the sunshineThis little Hoary-headed Grebe seemed as happy out of the water as in.
Most unusual to see one walking aboutClean, clean clean. A Musk Duck busy with ablutionsCome Dance with me. A Brolga that also seemed delighted with the warmth of the sunshineCome dance with meBlack Kite Games birds play. This was one of several that were swooping down, picking up grass and twigs and just doing it for funPart of a four Brolga squadron, adjusting for landing.
Sedge is the collective noun it seemsCome dance with me. This one was picking up twigs from a bush and performing its balletWe stopped on the roadway as we left to watch a Kestrel at work. It landed on the road in front of me, and I had to move back to get the focus
Regular followers will know that not too far from home, in a quiet roadside reserve, we have over the years been following the nesting activities of a pair of Black-shouldered Kites, named, Belle and Bronson.
If the boy scout arithmetic is close to correct, (and a lot of covid-lockdown not withstanding), it’s likely the that pair over about 4 years had as many as 10 successful clutches and two that were abandoned for various reasons.
Each clutch on average was 3 young birds, with two being just 2 young. All seemed to survive to leaving home, so its possible between them they flew at least 28 young birds to add to the population.
There is some anecdotal evidence that Belle had a least two Bronsons. Which would make her quite an old bird in Black-shoulded Kite years.
In September 2022, they again flew in sticks and mated and she settled in to the job of her 11th clutch. But. The weather turned dreadful not long after she had layed the eggs, and we had over a week of incessant rain and extreme high winds. We had watched the branch carrying its precious cargo being tossed about like a leaf.
After about a week, Belle disappeared. The nesting was over. We’ve seen her do this before and usually after bulking up for 2-3 weeks, she’d return. Time, as they say went by, and no sign of return.
Bronson was still home-schooling his previous two young. They were pretty much full grown and self-sufficient, but they stayed around the home tree, and he sat with them for a couple more weeks, eventually they too left and the paddock and small treeline was bare of Kites.
All through October and November, we kept checking, but in the end it was obvious. This party was over.
We did make occassional visits, but all through till March there was no further activity. I had been following a second pair of Kites about a kilometre down the road, so a drop in wasn’t too hard. In early April, we heard familiar sounds of a Kite short squeaking call. All excited, perhaps the pair were back. However we only found one and it certainly wasn’t from the missing pair. A few days later a second one was visible. This one certainly was a much younger bird and we wondered if they were a pair. Hard to tell, initially. They certainly didn’t behave like the originals and they had some unusual habits. Including not using any of the more familiar perches and spending time at the far end of the little plantation. Also it soon became clear that they did not engage in aerial transfer of food. And to be honest, watching them try to transfer on a branch showed how clumsy either, one, or both of them were. Eventually they settled on using the large street lights over the freeway as a level table to pass the mouse across. Strange.
The upside was the work, began, a site was settled on, and settled into. Stick carrying, and mating were the order of the day. Inspite of their clumsy food transfering, the mating seemed to go quite well, thank you.
I’ve delayed writing about it, and showing some pictures as it’s been very much an on-again off-again process. We think of them as ‘new age’ birds that have a new set of rules. 🙂
Meet the new CoupleDiscussions about nesting materialsPlenty of building material going inShe seemed unsure how to take the mouseEventually persistance paid offAnother complex food transferSettling into the nesting areaYet another complicated food transfer. But it is getting smoother.The alternate food transfer location.From a roadway that is near the nest site, its just possible to make out the nest. Here Belle is beginning to beak feed her hatched young.
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 