“Western Treatment Plant” – Page 3 – Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST

Orion: The Kite of many poses

April 11, 2016April 11, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment PlantTagged Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment Plant, WTP4 Comments

And just before you think I’ve run out of stuff to write about and am uploading a few older images.
These are from a visit this afternoon. I’ve been laid up at home in bed with the flu for most of the week. And EE decided that it was such a nice sunny afternoon, that I’d be allowed out for a bit of ‘fresh air’.

So down to 29 Mile we went. And there was mr casual, Orion, sitting on the usual post eating a usual mouse. Well obviously not the same mouse as before, but you get the idea.
Interestingly enough there was quite a track made through the long grass and marsh weed, by photographers tracking in and out over the weekend. EE says, if she’d have known it might have been a good place to sell hot scones and tea!

Orion seemed all the more oblivious to it all, and went through an entire preening and resting program with two photographers at arms length —so to speak. Well not quite, but in its relaxed way we enjoyed vicariously its company.

Here is a small sample of the afternoon. And yes, I do feel better from the fresh air.

Enjoy.

A quick extraction and discard of the bits that don't taste too nice. — A quick extraction and discard of the bits that don’t taste too nice.

Did you ever wonder what was under those wings?

The delicate rezipping of the tail feathers is always a delight to see from a raptor

A wing stretch and its time to go a hunting.

With Orion, the mighty hunter

April 6, 2016April 7, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Orion, Western Treatment PlantTagged Black-shouldered Kite, Orion, WTP7 Comments

Not sure how you’re Greek mythology is, but Orion was a hunter who was going to kill all the wildlife. A bit miffed with his hubris, the gods took umbrage— they seeemed to do that a lot, over the least, and perhaps even looked for opportunities to be offended, but I digress.

In the end of the myth, well he gets bitten by a clever snake, and is consigned to turn for ever in the heavens, he at one end, and the snake at the other. When one lot of star pattern is visible at night, the other is below the horizon. One sets as the other rises. All very mystical.

There is a lot of the life/death, rebirth and restitution in the entire story, but that is probably enough for most average bird photographers to take in at one sitting.

After several sessions with the Black-shouldered Kite down on the 29 Mile Road, it dawned on me that Orion, the mighty hunter, would be a good, well, unisex name for our hero(ine).

So we went down to see Orion, discuss the matter with him/her, and see what he/she thought.

Seemed to go pretty well, and just to confirm it all the bird dropped off the post, flew a few wingflaps, hovered, dived and returned with a mouse. One can almost here Mt Olympus turning.

Enjoy

Addendum: Just to be very clear. These birds are not baited, called in, or in anyway interfered with. We are simply recording the activities of a very relaxed and completely confident bird. We strive for connection and if a bird exhibits any ‘stress’, we leave it in peace. No photo is worth stressing the bird.
Now you know!

DWJ_0740 — Warming up the wings for the next sortie

I take that gesture to be an acceptance of Orion as a good name.

Hand me a camera and I’ll make a shot for the Fluker Post

A Morning Flying a Kite (Black-shouldered) or Learning the Fine Points of Mousestalking

April 1, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment PlantTagged Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment Plant5 Comments

No. I haven’t fallen off the planet. But my photo database had developed a slight case of computer measels and its taken me the best part of the last couple of weeks to manage it back to life.
It all started…. but, let’s not go there.

Still been making photos but.
Here is a sequence from a morning with a Black-shouldered Kite hunting alongside the roadway. For those who can navigate around the Western Treatment Plant this one is working along 29 Mile Road.

Interesting time at the WTP, the waders are all feeding and colouring up for their journey north to Siberia. And all the nesting birds are now in winter preparation.
Which means the Black-shouldered Kites among others have come down to keep the mouse population from exploding to epic proportions. And if this bird is anything to go by, then the mice are well and truly under control.

I’ve heard it said that on average the success rate for a hunting bird is one strike in about 10-15 attempts. This bird (I haven’t named it yet), obviously never read the fine print, and in the hour or so we shared, it hunted 4 times and took 3 mice.

It also seems quite content around us mere humans and has allowed both close approaches, and has made its own close approaches. Add to that some fine sunshine, a small breeze to give it some lift and what better way to while away a few hours in the morning.

Enjoy

Wagtails visit Western Treatment Plant

March 2, 2016March 2, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Werribee Wagtails, Western Treatment PlantTagged Birdlife Werribee, Werribee BirdLife, Werribee Wagtails, Western Treatment Plant4 Comments

Ahhh, a tour update and trip report.

The Werribee BirdLife group had their monthly outing yesterday and visited the Western Treatment Plant.
The weather has been predicted to be sunny and hot, so it was with a touch of bemusement that we headed off down the highway in the fog!

But it did give us a lovely cool morning, so the sulking photographer in me just had to make do for awhile.

Travelling with the Wagtails (Werribee Birdlife in a former name), is a fun experience. There is a great deal of knowledge of the birds, and the area, and the social activity makes for a fun filled and well fed day.

We went down to the T Section, an area that is fast taking on hero status as a Red Phalarope has come down to visit over. Perhaps to the uninitiated a bit hard to spot, but once seen the frenetic activity of the bird makes it reasonably easy to locate. And especially if the tour leader. (D Torr esq.) lines it up in the spotting scope at the start of the activity.

Here is a quick take from some of the events.

Black-shouldered Kite, in pursuit of a really annoying Raven

A Welcome Swallow decided to join in the chase.

Down at the beach, the Red-necked Stints are really putting on the weight now.

The amazing T Section ponds. Spot the Red Phalarope for extra points!

Sharp-trailed Sandpiper. Trialling the travelling equipment.

Little Journeys

January 31, 2016January 31, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Western Treatment PlantTagged Western Treatment Plant1 Comment

When I was a mere broth of a lad, we had in our ‘vast’ library of books a volume entitled “Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great”, by some dude named Elbert Hubbard. It was filled with wide-eyed stories of visits to great historical people. Some with really funny names to a young lad. Aristotle, Copernicus, Jane Austen, Eras-someoneorother ….

I acquired much later in life a copy of his “Day Book”, which was a collection of his ‘thoughts’ on various subjects. Nowadays a google search will find lots of them in disconnected ways.

He perished in 1915 with the sinking of the “Lusitania” which bought the United States in the First World War.
Intriguing really as one of his quotes was.

As long as governments set the example of killing their enemies, private individuals will occasionally kill theirs.

But back to Little Journeys.
A friendship that goes back a long way and includes all sorts of family connection is with Mark from over on Flickr at mdsmedai9. So when he suggested he would swing by for a visit in the Winnebago, we decided a “Little Journey” to the Western Treatment Plant was in order.
Bet you were, dear reader beginning to think I’d never find a link for the title. Sad.

Of course on such short notice, the weather was in no mood at all to be co-operative. And it wasn’t.

Still we had a grand old chat, drank some earl of grey, and found at least a few birds for him to photograph.

At about the same time, my friend, (Whoa!! how many have I got??) Nina, (Nina and I used to work together a long time ago, in what can only be described as “another life”) had also been down for a “Little Journey” to the other end of the WTP, to visit the amazing Red-necked Phalarope and found some great looking young Black-shouldered Kites for her time. One of which she is graciously letting me publish in this blog.

Enjoy, we did.

Black Kites waiting for the tractor to make the next pass.

Black-tailed Native Hen, going about its "Chooky business". — Black-tailed Native Hen, going about its “Chooky business”.

Mr Inquisitive. White-faced Heron watching the goings on below as several Willie Wagtails try to move a Little Raven out of their territory

Australian Shelducks have moutled out and now have nice new flight feathers to put to good use.

Nina's lovely shot of a Juvenile Black-shouldered Kite. And Sunshine. So jealous. Thanks Nina for sharing — Nina’s lovely shot of a Juvenile Black-shouldered Kite. And Sunshine. So jealous. Thanks Nina for sharing

The balance of life: Western Treatment Plant

January 29, 2016January 29, 2016Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Peregrine Falcon, Western Treatment PlantTagged Peregrine Falcon, Western Treatment Plant1 Comment

I wrote of the Banjo’s Romance, last blog.
Then we were out to the Treatment Plant, EE, Mr An Onymous and I.

To see that poem played out.

On a day that started with a lighting strike about 100m away and “CRACK” of thunder that would indeed wake the dead, the overcast and wet weather offered us little reprise in our quest for Sea-eagle.

So we turned the way for home.

And just as the light was fading, a sparkling wingflash streaked across the river just to our left. A falcon. No, not any flacon. A Peregrine Falcon. My first for the Treatment Plant.

It had downed a duck.

The Pink-eared Ducks spend most of the day lolling about in Lake Borrie, but then on evening, make the several hundred metre flight over the Little River and into one of the Walsh Lagoons just over the river. A few minutes flight for a nimble duck.

For the Falcon, it was pretty easy pickings if you think about it. Ducks- several hundred- in a straight line, – tricky little dudes, fly over the reeds on the far side take a detour either left or right for a few hundred metres along the rivers edge, then pop over the far bank and plop in to the Lagoon. The slow moving Whistling Kites and Swamp Harriers can’t match that speed.

But.

Dropping from above at speed over 100kph, the Peregrine probably doesn’t even raise a sweat.

But

The duck is a heavy creature and the Falcon can’t get it airborne and must work it on the ground. Now, ordinarily, good luck would have put the prey down in a secluded spot. However in this case it was on the middle of the track we were travelling out along.

So the Falcon took to the air. And circled. So much so that in the end, I decided to reverse the car back down the road, and see what would happen. Too far back for photos, but what would the bird do?

And sure enough, after several scattered flights back and forth, and cleaning up an inquisitive Swamp Harrier along the way, the Falcon landed about 50m from the duck and decided what to do. After several minutes, it flew down landed a few metres away, re-evaluated our presence, the chance of a meal, and hopped up to the duck and began to take off the feathers.

We left it in peace to finish its well earned meal. On the far side of the river we spotted another set of sharp wings. A second Peregrine! And the light was gone.

Enjoy. Huge crops, but I wasn’t going to disturb the bird any more than I had already.

Swinging in to claim its kill. The unfortunate Pink-eared Duck is in the foreground.

Time to sit and contemplate the next move. A Swamp Harrier along the river in the top left.

It's mine! And feathers begin to fly — It’s mine!
And feathers begin to fly

Sneaking up on a Swamp Harrier: Chapter 2

December 25, 2015December 25, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Swamp Harrier, Western Treatment PlantTagged Swamp Harrier, Western Treatment Plant2 Comments

Given that chapter one was a runaway success, I decided to continue in the theme of “Sneaking up on a Swamp Harrier- The Completely Gullible Edition”

First of all find your Swamp Harrier. Seems logical enough and those big pools of water with the reedbeds seem the most obvious place to start. And from a Russell Coight perspective “Endless reedbeds that stretch as far as the eye can see… And with binoculars, even further”

And of course this classic on Emus, modified for Swamp Harriers

“Swamp Harriers tend to travel in pairs, or alone, or in groups and tend to eat at night or day.”

We were it turned on the look out for the elusive Sea-eagle. So suitably stationed on what we considered to be one of its flight paths we waited. And.
Waited.
and Waited.
And had a cuppa, and waited.
In between, the only Brown Falcon for miles sat on a boxthorn bush and waited.

Then along the shore line scrub a Swamp Harrier appeared. Deep in concentration it was simply following its road map. Anything that was out of the ordinary was checked out. I am convinced, that they are not looking for things so much as comparing the current data with previously collected data. A bit like google mapping without the old out-of-date photos. You know the ones that show the empty paddock down the road that is now a supermarket and carpark. Or the open land by a creekline that is now 6 laned freeway.

In the same way that astronomers used to look for comets in photos by comparing night sky shots, I reckon Swampie has a visual shot of the bushes and is really looking for anything that is different on this pass. Such as a new hatched Purple Swamphen, or a sleeping Eurasian Coot. (which according to Russell Coight, “Most Coots generally sleep with their eyes shut…….unless they’re open……or they’re awake.”)

Down the scrub it came. Head down. No need to look up, it knew where it was going. And no other bird is going to stop in its way, and make it turn to the left or the right. It rules the skyway.

And unless this is your first post, esteemed reader, you’ll know what happens next. The map is compared, “What are those humans doing there!!!!!”, and it turns away 180 degrees and is gone.

Everthing is checked and filed away for future reference

Anyone who has seen or photographed these birds, knows this LOOK> It might seem to be checking me out, but in reality it's readjusting the online database and making a note to avoid that area in the future. — Anyone who has seen or photographed these birds, knows this LOOK>
It might seem to be checking me out, but in reality it’s readjusting the online database and making a note to avoid that area in the future.

This bird then cut out to sea, and glided past our position before coming back in to continue its journey along the beach scrub

Gliding in to take up station for its next run.

Russell Coight Quotes: All Aussie Adventures.  (Website address a bit dubious)

Wandering WTP with Lindsay

December 24, 2015December 24, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Red-necked Stint, Sharp-tailed SandpiperTagged Red-necked Stint, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Western Treatment Plant2 Comments

My Flickr Mate Lindsay, Lynz Wee was down for his annual pilgrimage to the Western Treatment Plant.

He came in for a Friday jaunt, but, the weather had other ideas and we had 3 DAYS of Total Fire Ban. And WTP is closed on such days. So, he had to ‘cool his heels’, (can’t believe I wrote that about 40+ C days.)

We managed an afternoon on Monday. Started out good weather and promised a low tide around dusk, so all was set for an interesting day. One thing about driving about with Lindsay, there is never a dull moment and the conversation crackled back and forth at at right royal pace. Even managed a few stops for photography.

After a late afternoon tea-break at The Borrow Pits we headed back to a spot on 145W Outflow. The tide runs out well here and the sand-mud flats expose quickly and it can be a good place for the odd wader or so.

We settled in, and at first there was only a handful of the usual suspects and a squadron or two of Silver Gull.

“Must have my wader repellant on,” quoth he. “Give it time, once the tide goes out a bit they’ll come by”, reassured I, and wondering where else we might travel to find something.
More time passed and the gulls were now in flotilla formation and numbers. “Must be Gull attractor I’m wearing”, quips he.

We also had a sneaking suspicion that a White-bellied Sea-eagle would put in an appearance, but I guess the bird didn’t know of our appointment.

Then from down the coast a dark swirling cloud began to mass up. And we are talking dark, swirling.

The closer it came the more birds joined in, until, like one of those video clips you see of England or Naples, a veritable murmuration began to take shape. And still they kept coming. The speed of the turns, and the flashing dark/white shapes and the beauty of the sweeping masses was a sight to behold.

It’s impossible to describe and impossible to show visually with only a long lens that picks out just a small part of the hoard that made its way to the sandbar. Things were looking up in the wader department.

Thousand of Stints and Sandpipers and a host of other waders all swept across the sky. Literally from horizon to horizon.

“How’s that”, I cried. But he was too busy running the Canon at 10 frames per second, not missing any of the action. Then they settled on the exposed mudflats and began their meal. Within minutes the area only metres from our tripod legs were hundreds of busy little feeders. Not caring about the human presence, they simply tucked in.
And it was all going so well, until. “My battery is flat, have to go back and get another”.
And so we trekked back to the car. Only to find EE waving frantically at us, and pointing, so we good naturedly waved back. And chatted about what we’d just witnessed, and how EE has probably been photographing all sorts of good things while we were otherwise engaged, including of course the Elusive Sea-eagle.

When we got there, it was, “Did you see the Sea-eagle???? I was waving out to you, it nearly went right over your heads!!!”.
NO!!! Well it didn’t matter anyway as the Canon battery was flat. But….

Here is a few frames to try and capture the way the gathering gathered in.

I only had the long lens on board, so this really just an small section, think 20 or more times to get the real feel.

Just a tiny portion of the huge numbers of birds that came down to feed.

Settling in, there is hardly space between birds.

Can only begin to imagine what it looks like when they are migrating to and from Siberia.

My New Book: “Sneaking up on a Swamp Harrier”

December 20, 2015December 20, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Swamp HarrierTagged Swamp Harrier, WTPLeave a comment

Oxymoron: (def). is a figure of speech that juxtaposes elements that appear to be contradictory.
Hence “Sneaking up on a Swamp Harrier”.

And just to be sure that I am clearly not misunderstood; there is no Book.
Just my bemused attempt of dealing with a bird that seems to be lightyears ahead of my feeble attempts to get a good shot. If there was such a book it would be very short on in pages. A real theoretical experience. And the first chapter would be the last. Sneaking and Swamp Harrier are not compatible.

They are the masters of the bunds along the Treatment Plant. Wafting in the breeze, dropping on unsuspecting prey, harriering the water birds until exhausted they fall easy pickings. And, I believe, they have the area ‘mapped’, so that anything out of place is either open to inspection or senses danger and the bird shys away. Do I then have some respect for these birds. Absolutely.

wouldn't you know it that was the moment the autofocus in the camera decided to recalculate and settle on the reed beds

So take your average evening light, hope its sunny, sit among the reeds and wait. Trying to chase them down only results in a flurry of white tail feathers disappearing over the next bund, and they don’t return.

The spot we’d chosen was on a short bund, with plenty of reed cover. The car was about 150m back buried in some more reeds. We set up the cameras and waited. There are some rules about this- not mine, just the birds. First: Don’t move. Second: Don’t Move Third Don’t MOVE.
Riders to said rule. Don’t get all excited and exclaim to no one in particular. “Look, its coming toward us”.
And don’t make that the moment that you move the tripod/camera for a better shot, or swing said camera toward the bird.

A head down searching Swamp Harrier is a committed bird. It knows what was down there last pass, and knows if anything looks out of place. And will react accordingly.

After about 15 minutes, (no fidgeting please), along the far bank a lone Swamp Harrier began its run. And about the same time, the sun slipped for the last time behind some cloud and the light went to porridge. Enough to make me prepare to go home.

However, back to said bird on said bund. By now it had worked its way along about half of the 300m or so of reedbed. I’d begun to take the occasional shot. Too far away for much detail, and not enough light now for much interest.

Mark Knofler (Dire Straights) wrote lines for such occasions. “Too far away from me. ” and “It’s just that the light was wrong, Juliet” (apologies for word change)

Because of the moderate breeze blowing, the most amazing thing was in the over 300m of its flight path, it didn’t flap a wing once. Just turned its body on an angle and simply sailed along like a kite in the breeze, or canoe crossing a fast running water.
Not sure what I was most impressed by, but the almost energy-less movement was certainly something to behold. With unconscious awareness it came on.

When it reached the end of the bund line, it changed direction, and wing tactics and began to pull up the reed bed in our direction. Lower now, because of the need for wing flapping, and also because the reeds were blowing over.

We waited. (see above)

And sure enough on it came. Head down, completely absorbed; in eloquent silence.

Then, the moment I had anticipated. It pulled up, saw a change that was unexpected. And turned in an instant. And wouldn’t you know it that was the moment the autofocus in the camera decided to recalculate and settle on the reed beds 250m away. I dream of the days of manual focus.

A bitter sweet result.

Yet I still have the memory of its almost effortless track across the bund. We shall go again.

Enjoy.

High in the evening breeze. Simply drifting along the reed beds

A change of direction along the bund toward us.

The moment of awareness. I checked the EXIF there is about 1/10th of a second between this and the next shot. — The moment of awareness. I checked the EXIF the is about 1/10th of a second between this and the next shot.

On the Turn, those big surgical legs swinging out like a pendulum.

Sometimes the evening light brings its own rewards

November 26, 2015November 26, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Black-shouldered KiteTagged Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment PlantLeave a comment

We had gazed at weather tv presenters, peered at tiny newspaper weather maps, and consulted the occassional web weather site, and it seemed pretty conclusive.
A high moving in during the day would give us that special “Golden Hour”. Nothing else to do really except pack in a cuppa, the cameras, the WTP access key, drop a note to the controller of our intention, and drive.

We had a spot in mind, and as it turned, we arrived travelling in the wrong direction to the sun. Not an error, but just the way things worked out. And of course, as we had already half expected, a White-bellied Sea-eagle was on a post against the light and looking pretty elegant, resplendant, and pretty well pleased with itself.
And then it flew. And EE was the only one out of the car, and the bird passsed on her side of the road, and I couldn’t get the door open as I’d stopped right up hard on a bush, and well, I missed it.

The spot we were heading for has a little bit of open grass and usually good beach on low tide. (Twas high this night!), and an outflow. And a couple of good radio mast perches.

A young Black-shouldered Kite had chosen the area to perch on while Mum gathered food. So we sat, enjoyed the sunshine, the Earl of Grey, and the antics of this beautifully marked bird.

Even if the bird hadn’t been there the weather was so nice.

DWJ_0339 — Resplendent in the afternoon sunshine

DWJ_0279 — When its the only perch for miles, its the perch of choice

DWJ_0231 — Sailing on the soft breeze in the warm sunshine. That life could always be this good

DWJ_0257 - Version 2 — So close I cropped the tail tip.

Black Falcon(s) up close and personal

July 6, 2015July 6, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Black Falcon, Western Treatment PlantTagged Black Falcon, Western Treatment Plant1 Comment

It has been said by some, that, “I’ve lost my bird Karama,’ or more particularly that I’ve used it all up. And given that I respect the insight of such greater thinkers, then it probably is true. And no doubt the facts are on their side, most certainly in the case of hunting down the ever elusive White-bellied Sea-Eagle. My mate Lynzwee reckons it more a matter of wearing the incorrect “Bird Repellant”. He might be right too.

But. That doesn’t stop me so much from going out and trying. Well at least I rationalise that I can enjoy the fresh air and a well brewed Earl of Grey.

So as the weather turns we found ourselves on The Beach Road at the Treatment Plant. Rumour had it that some Cattle Egrets were down there. (Truth be told, and don’t spread it around, we too had already seen them in the area, so didn’t go completely blind.)

The cattle have been let in to graze on the recently harvested maize stubble. I think I talked about this in the “The Curious Tale of the Clever Kestrel”.

When we settled the car in close to the fence to get a good look at the Cattle Egrets, we also noted that said Kestrel, Black-shouldered Kites, Whistling, Black and Brown Goshawk were also working in the area. Along with an ever increasing number of cars with birdos and photographers pulling up to share the action.

And that is what we all got. At one stage 20 or more Kites were sitting post by post on the roadside and landing within arms reach of the bird counters in the car. The photographers were using up lots of memory card space and batteries inbetween bouts of stories, “Oh, I remember I was backpacking along the Birdsville Track and a Black Kite with a water bottle dropped down and gave me a drink, saved my life.” “Oh, I saw a Budgerigar attack a white morph Black Kite once”, and “Oh, look there’s a Light Morph Juvenile Brown Falcon with a mouse.”,” No, I think by the colouring on the left wing primaries that its a Dark Morph Light Brown Falcon, and what its got is a field mouse, probably one of a litter of 12 or 15. You often see them, when…”

My eyes glaze over.

Another convoy arrive. “Have you seen the Bittern, we’re looking for the Bittern, anythingheretosee”, said while swinging Swavoroskis around nearly knocking me over. “There are some Cattle Egrets,” I volunteered. “Where!”

“They’d be the big white things over there in the paddock with the cattle,” quoth I. EE kicked me in the ankle under the car door. “No Bittern”, Insert Sound of Departing convoy Here.

Fast! Let me tell you.

It went over my shoulder, and I never even saw it coming. (Most of the bird discussers never saw it going either), At that rate, and that shape, I got the camera up, grabbed several frames and called “Black Falcon, A pair”.

To which the flurry of cameras, binoculars, smart phone apps and someone still writing things on a field note book all searched the surrounding sky, grass, fence and paddock.
“Oh, look a Black Falcon,” cried one. “A Black Falcon,’ cried another. We’ll ignore the numbers of “Where?” as they outnumber significantly. Another flotilla of Land-cruisers and Subaru Foresters pulled up. “Oh, look a Black Falcon”, cried one of the new comers. “We must have frightened it up when we arrived”. (big sigh here).

“There is a pair”, quoth I.

“look look look, there’s a second one,”, At last!

‘Our’ pair sailed down the Beach Road at fence height putting to flight all the dozing kites on the fence. Something about a black shape at 60kph bearing down on you to awaken your feathers and wing muscles enough to get airborne.

A foolishly lone Little Raven got a right dusting up by both birds as they barrelled across the road. Mostly I think it was all in fun. They were just out for an afternoon’s entertainment. A Magpie with some food also got a pretty good chase about, but no damage was done, and Magpie eventually made it off the paddock with its prize.

Then, they streaked back up the paddock, amused perhaps by the photographers, app users or maybe they wanted to admire the emerald green Subi.

No matter how I write it, it was the right place, the right light and the right distance. All one had to do was point the camera, press the shutter and follow the action. That is except for those who took a shot, then spent the next 10 seconds ‘Chimping’, you know, hunched up looking at the rear LCD image and going “ooh, ooh, ooh”

Now one Falcon is pretty awesome two, outstanding. But off course everyone was following the one that had zoomed overhead and was now rattling down the paddock away from us. As I looked about, (I’ve learned to do that), the second one came ever closer and was soon filling my viewfinder. In the end, I called “the other one is closer now!”, to which all eyes peering down the little tunnel of the viewfinder had to readjust to the bright light and try to re-position the camera for a second series.

Bored with messing with our minds, (and let’s face it, that didn’t take long), they spun round overhead and headed off across the paddocks. Leaving us with. “Well, its probably a second year bird with a juvenile, … ” “I’ll have to get on birdline and report this.’, and “Let’s go. We are due home for dinner”. INSERT CAR DOORS SLAMMING HERE

Sigh.

I offered EE another Earl of Grey and we waited for the Cattle Egrets to come back.

Enjoy

Wow, where did that come from.

Black-shouldered Kite valiantly defending its hunting area, (and its nesting area too),

Hapless Little Raven hopelessly outclassed.

The dynamic duo

Games across the paddocks

Coming round for the first run.

Low down and fast

Awesome speed

Wonderful wing show on a close pass

The beaut afternoon light dressed the bird so well.

Brown Falcon. So that is what they look like

Turning away for other adventures

Enjoying the early sunshine at the Western Treatment Plant

May 19, 2015May 19, 2015Posted in "Western Treatment Plant"Tagged Western Treatment PlantLeave a comment

Hauling around the Western Treatment Plant

December 19, 2014December 19, 2014Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Brolga, Brown Falcon, Cape Barren Goose, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Werribee River Park, Western Treatment Plant, White-bellied Sea-eagle, Willie WagtailTagged FlickrLeave a comment

Every year my Flickr mate Lynzwee, https://www.flickr.com/photos/65347914@N07/ makes a trip down to see us and to spend a day at the Treatment Plant.

Lindsay (to his Ozzie Mates), dropped me a note on his scheduled visit and I found a day that looked suitable. Not that we had many options.

So as the Banjo said. We went.

The weather map showed no cloud at all when I checked, but when we got to the Pt Wilson Road it was pretty certain the map was wrong. So we suffered the usual grey sky pics. And kept our eyes up for an elusive Sea-eagle.

Lindsay had about 4 birds that he really wanted and we managed to add Brolga. A pair were sitting in the grass on the far side of a pond, and at first everyone jumped to conclusions “She’s nesting!” but change the ‘n’ to an ‘r’ and you’d be much more likely to be right. So it was. When we swung by on the return journey, they both had moved quite a long way down the bund.

And then we saw them have an altercation with a handful of Cape Barren Geese, and the geese didn’t bother to stick around and argue.

At the moment the Whiskered Terns are hunting prodigiously and obviously productively. So we spent quite a little time working at really close distances with them as they swept along the mouth of the Little River.

And to top it off in the distance a Sea-eagle took off. Too far.

I was using the 300mm f/4 lens and was surprised to remember how fast it was at grabbing focus. I must remember to put it back on the D2Xs and it will really sing.

The sun came out and we had a really fine afternoon and some good results. On the way back we stopped for the ‘traditional’ coffee and Banana Cake at the Highway Lounge, and then as we were near swung into the Werribee River Park, but it was pretty quiet. But on the way out three of the young Kestrels were hunting in the evening sunshine. Lindsay was hanging out the window trying for that ‘best’ shot. The bird obliged by dropping off the post on to the road, but I think the af on the D7000 might have found the roadside more attractive. At least that’s how I interpreted his response.

Here’s a days sample See Lindsay’s Page sometime soon for his version.

We dropped him at the railway station after a day of much mirth and frivolity and some great birding and excellent photo opportunities. Seeya next time mate.

"Is she nesting?" No, afraid not. — “Is she nesting?” No, afraid not.

You don't mess with the big guy. For some reason the Geese were not welcome in his pond — You don’t mess with the big guy. For some reason the Geese were not welcome in his pond

Really soft light helped the Spoonbill shots.

The tide was a bit slow turning and these birds were anxiously waiting for the mudflats to be exposed.

Always enjoy the flight control of the Silver Gull.

Its not obvious, but the Black winged Stilt is moving the Red-necked Avocet along. No room in this pool.

Fire, smoke, an open paddock, simply add birds for action

April 29, 2014May 8, 2014Posted in "Western Treatment Plant", Australian Hobby, Australian Kestrel, Black Kite, Black-shouldered Kite, Brown Falcon, Flame Robin, Werribee, Western Treatment Plant, Whistling Kite2 Comments

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.