What the Robin Knows – Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER

Little Visits: Building a Thread with a Brown Falcon

November 12, 2019November 12, 2019Posted in Brown Falcon, Jon Young, What the Robin Knows8 Comments

Many of my early readers and followers of this blog will recall I am a follower of Jon Young, author of “What the Robin Knows”.

His book is not so much about robins per se as about making connections with birds in their world.
Jon is among other things a skilled tracker and an outdoors trainer. He was taught by some of the best trackers and hunters from his tribe with the Native Americans. His work, and humanitarian activities have taken him around the world and he often tells the story of a Sans Bushman from Africa who said,
“I see a small bird and recognise it, a thin thread is formed between me and the bird. If I just see it no thread is made. If I go again, and again, and recognise the bird, the thread will thicken. Each time I recognise the bird the thread will grow to become a string, a cord and then a rope. We make ropes to all aspects of creation in this way.”

He also tells of the time he was at a meeting in a glass-walled office suite and said to the folk in the room, “You have a cat in your courtyard”. No, no, they replied, there are no animals allowed in the gardens. A minute or so later, a cat strolled nonchalantly across the manicured lawns. How did he know that, they asked. “The birds in the garden were acting in a manner that suggested a cat was nearby,” Jon replied.

Over the years I’ve managed, and its not bragging, just the way I work, of building some fine rope connections with some birds. Perhaps because of their personality, or sheer inquisitiveness, but like Jon, there a several such stories I could tell, a few of them have been subjects of this blog in the past.

EE and I have located a Brown Falcon at nest. Dangerous really, as Browns broach no interference in this serious business, and someone, even with good intentions, sticking a camera in their work space is not taken kindly. So having worked out where the activity was taking place, I’ve made a wide berth of the spot. I also know, from past experience, that if all is well, and I don’t press the boundaries, respect their business and keep to my side of the line, that eventually the line will become narrower, and I’ll be able to see just a little more. Then sometimes the bird graces us with the chance to enter into its world, and while I might not have free access, at least I’m treated benignly.

What worries me about sharing this is that some will drag out the ‘Photographers Code of Practice”, or some such and berate me for my impertinence. However if I’m not invited, I don’t go.

Someone will ask ‘How do you know?”
To which I have to respond honestly, “Why don’t you go out and sit with a bird and find out for yourself.” Operative point of that is— ‘sit with the bird’.

Here’s the scoop. She sits the nest. He hunts. A large gleeful cackle brings an instant response from her and she is off the nest and in the air to accept his delivery. She will feed, preen, stretch and then return to the nest. If I’m not wanted, then I don’t see any of that.
Where it gets really exciting is this Brown, feed, then landed on a branch quite close to where we were standing, and sat.

We waited.

She realised no movement from us, and after about 20 minutes, she began the process of putting all her nest crumpled feathers back in place. Then she waited, flew past a few metres out, landed on another tree, and repeated the process. The shots here were taken over about an hour, and neither EE or I moved much more than a metre or so.
Again she preened, rearranged, and then stepped out, and circled to land in the nest.

Now I should also add that I’ve worked with the bird a few seasons before, so we are not complete strangers. In fact over the time she has taught me quite a bit about the world of Brown Falcon. Still so much more to learn.

Enjoy.

Flying out to meet her cackling mate coming in with lunch

This is the male. He has, unusually, a yellow cere and eye ring.
I’d guess its a pipit he’s delivering

1911-10_DWJ_9855 — The male on the way out again. Sometimes he’ll return and sit near the nest, just to check things out. Most times, its back out to the paddock for another food run.

Well fed she can attend to the business of brightening up her wardrobe. I love to see them zip up all the flight feathers.

Sometimes, the one-legged stance is a challenge, but here she is getting ready to line up the feathers.

Wing and tail relief all at once. The wing markings are a treat.

Time to go. Nesting duty calls. I’m pretty certain the egg is near to hatched or just recently hatched as she did spend a lot of time away.

Passing by with not even a glance. Every time that happens, the thread is strengthened.

Wonderful Woodlands Birds for all to enjoy: The Birds of Hume

July 17, 2016July 17, 2016Posted in Flame Robin, Jon Young, Photographers, Pink Robin, Red-capped Robin, Scarlet Robin, What the Robin Knows, Woodlands Historic ParkTagged Flame Robin, Red-capped Robin, Scarlet Robin, Woodlands Historic Park4 Comments

It’s a bit humbling to have been able to contribute to a most wonderful publication.

The Hume City Council have published a lovely 20 page Bird Guide to the area. A great creative collaboration by a number of locals and some excellent work by the Evironmental Dept of the Council has resulted in a such a cool little handbook for anyone with even a passing interest in the area.

My Flickr Mate Andew H was among the many of the working group and at one stage asked if I might have some photos of birds they were missing. And off course, I was all too ready for them to use the images.

After living in the area for nigh on 40 years, it was a great way to respond back to the community and to provide a bit of a “thank you” to the birds that have been such a large part of my photographic endevours over the years. My family has walked and laughed and picnicked and even married in the park, so we do have more than just a passing connection.

It’s also no surprise to you long term reader(s), that I have a real affinity for the small birds of the Grey Box forest area in the park. Over the years many of the missives here have been about their lives and their surrounds. So much so that many have become in someways quite familiar. I’ve for a long time taken to giving each of the robins, names. It helps to id them, to come to an understanding of their location and sometimes their interactions. Jon Young, my mentor of the book, “What the Robin Knows”, shows how its possible to build tiny connections to individual creatures that become large ropes that bind the bird and viewer.

Of all the birds I photograph, the small bush birds seem to hold the special place in my heart. I love the boldness of the raptors, the kites, falcons and eagles. I am constantly in awe of the migratory skills of the small waders and shorebirds that visit us each summer, and I can spend hours with the shoreline birds along the beaches, the terns, herons, gulls and cormorants. But, put me in a stretch of Grey Box, and my blood fair purrs. And the small birds fascinate me, not only by their lives, but by the challenge of bringing that portrait moment to life on screen.

Over the years, I ‘ve talked of the lives of Mr. Mighty, (he, who got a front cover on a national magazine), Henny and Penny and their clutches of young. Peter, the Prince, Lockey, and of recent times, Petite, the smallest Red-capped Robin. And of course my very dear friend, Primrose. A female Red-capped Robin that was happy to come and sit with me on a log in the sunshine whenever I was in the area.
Andrew H talked today a little about our experiences and his own involement with the robins, and at one stage likened it to a ‘spiritiual’ moment. And to have a bird such as Primrose so delicately and yet deliberately come in contact, and in some way accept the presence of the big klutz of a photographer, with a turn on the head and a lowered wing flap is something that still keeps us going out to make those connections. How else do you describe a bird that you can see coming through the trees, just to perch less than a metre away and chatter away as if was really important.

And so in the presence of over a hundred or more folk, the Mayor of Hume Council, Cr Helen Patsikatheodorou, talked of the work of the production group, the grandness of the birds in the area and officially launched the booklet for the benefit of all those who love the birds. We also had the chance to do a small walk around Woodlands Homestead and Andrew talked of some of the better birding areas at the park.

If you are in the area, do pick up a copy of the publication. Or contact Hume Council.

I thought I’d re-quoute Jon Young on the Sans Bushman
“If one day I see a small bird and recognise it, a thin thread will form between me and that bird. If i just see it but don’t recognise it, there is no thin thread. If I go out tomorrow and see and really recognise that same individual small bird again, the thread will thicken and strengthen just a little. Every time I see and recognise that bird, the thread strengthens just a little. Every time I see and recognise that bird, the thread strengthens. Eventually it will grow into a string and then a cord, and finally a rope. This is what it means to be a Bushman. We make ropes with all aspects of the creation in this way” —What the Robin Knows, p 180—.

So well done Hume, well done team, a supreme effort and hopefully it will help people build more than a thread to so many of the wonderful birds in our area.
I’m just overwhelmed to have been able to have such a small part in the process. Thanks again to all.

In the morning before the launch EE and I had travelled up in the brilliant light and touch of frost on the ground for a short visit to see the birds. The sunshine should have told us it would be a good day, but within about five minutes along the track, Petite, the Smallest Red-capped Robin had popped out on to the roadway, followed by Peter the Prince. Together they fed and played for us before we moved on to the backpaddock. And there we were delighted to remake acquaintance again with a new Male Red-capped Robin, and finally find a small flock of FLmae Robins, including the Three Brothers, working the moss beds in the sunshine.
Seemed a great treat to go with the rest of the day.
Enjoy.

Petite, the Smallest Red-capped Robin. This tiny bird met us on the roadway as we walked in. Totally unconcerned by our presence. A real thread bulding moment. — Petite, the Smallest Red-capped Robin. This tiny bird met us on the roadway as we walked in. Totally unconcerned by our presence. A real thread building moment.

Peter, the Prince. Its been awhile since I've seen him on the fence line. — Peter, the Prince. Its been awhile since I’ve seen him on the fence line.

Such a delight to find. Pink Robin, female. Now if only she would bring her partner down for winter.

One of our new discoveries. This female is still supporting one of her last season young

Who is putting 'footie prints' all over my forest? Scarlet came by to see what I was up to. — Who is putting ‘footie prints’ all over my forest? Scarlet came by to see what I was up to.

Wedge-tailed Eagle taking its pet Whistling Kites for an early morning flight.

EE Enjoys Denonshire Tea at the launch at Woodlands Historic Homestead.

Red-capped Robin Female. This is Primrose, (see the lovely apricot wash on her chest) overseeing a territorial dispute between Lockie, and a would be suitor. — And just because deep down I’m an old softie. Here is Primrose. Red-capped Robin Female. This is Primrose, (see the lovely apricot wash on her chest) Thanks for the memory girl 🙂

Gallery: Click to see full size.

Petite, the Smallest Red-capped Robin. This tiny bird met us on the roadway as we walked in. Totally unconcerned by our presence. A real thread bulding moment.

Peter, the Prince. Its been awhile since I’ve seen him on the fence line.

Such a delight to find. Pink Robin, female. Now if only she would bring her partner down for winter.

Female Scarlet Robin

One of our new discoveries. This female is still supporting one of her last season young

Who is putting ‘footie prints’ all over my forest? Scarlet came by to see what I was up to.

Wedge-tailed Eagle taking its pet Whistling Kites for an early morning flight.

Female Flame Robin

Flame Robin Male

EE Enjoys Denonshire Tea at the launch at Woodlands Historic Homestead.

Orion. Soaking up Kite awareness

April 15, 2016April 15, 2016Posted in 29 Mile Road, Black-shouldered Kite, Western Treatment Plant, What the Robin KnowsTagged Black-shouldered Kite, What the Robin Knows, WTP4 Comments

Jon Young says, “There is nothing random about bird’s awareness and behaviour. They have too much at stake…. Being tuned into the tapestry…. we are venturing into a realm of awareness, and intention and curiosity. I’ve had some magical experiences in the natural world, and some of them have involved birds.”

He quotes a San Bushman, “One day I see a small bird and recognise it. A thin thread will form between me and the bird. I will go again tomorrow and recognise it and the thread will thicken. Eveytime I see and recognise the bird, the thread strengthens. It will eventually grow to become a rope. That is what it means to be a Bushman. We make ropes to all aspects of the creation this way.”

Appreciation of the bird’s perspective.

Which puts us in the vehicle, heading along the 29 Mile Road at Avalon, in the early morning sunshine. EE, Mr An Onymous and I. And as we draw nearer to the end of the road, a thought from us all, was, “Will Orion still be here?”
We need not have worried.

Sitting on a small tree, about 10m off the side of the road. And by the look, having just eaten. Feathers still wet with the dew from the grass of his last capture.

At first we stop the car on the far side of the road, and they photograph through the open window.
Orion turns his head, takes note, and then develops, ‘Soft eyes’. Jon talks to this a lot, and I’ve mentioned it here before, but its the type of eyes that look right past you, with complete confidence. I stepped from the car, I’m on the far side remember, and approached from the sunside, and moved across the road. ‘Soft eyes’ followed me. Because of the line of the branch, his stance, and the way the light is running in the early morning, I want to be about 10m further out in the open. And of course the chance is he will spook and fly.

I make the first few shots. Orion sinks down onto the branch, and I take that as an invitation. Purposefully, rather than creeping up slowly, (that only spooks birds the worst), I move to the open area. Now, the backdrop is not right, so I need another 4 or 5 metres. He throws his head back and begins to hawk-up the fur ball from the last meal. I move. Soft eyes follow.

Because of the lay of the land, it’s going to be hard to isolate him against the backdrop without a horizon line running somewhere. I could go lower, but then it would be blue sky. Nice, but not encompassing. Besides crouching down human with long lens is going to turn those soft eyes to ones of determined study. So I opt for another step or two to put his head against the far distant tree line. That will have to do.

Orion settles to preen.

EE and Mr A take all this as a sign of relaxation and they also move off the roadway for the better angle and the light. Orion soft eyes. We’re cool.

In the end, we’ve enough for a game of cards, the three of us and Orion.

Preening, wingstretches, repositioning on the branch. And all the time he seems completely settled.

After an hour of standing in the fine sunshine, carrying a long lens, and working with a bird that seems to have no fear of us, a great deal of understanding, awareness and connection emerges.

The others move back to the car. I bid this able bird ‘good morning’ and follow them back. Soft eyes follow me.

All is well.

Enjoy.

Well, good morning. Hunting's been good. — Well, good morning. Hunting’s been good.

A bird that is this relaxed is interested in preening

A wing stretch to the right. Lean into it, that feels good.

Lean into the Left. Big body angle here.

Wings to help balance on turning on the perch.

_DWJ5638 — All of us remark on the softness of the grey on the cap. Its like soft cat’s fur. Never noticed it until we are this close.

I don't mind you coming but did you have to bring the wagtail with you. Willie just can't help but get into the act. — I don’t mind you coming but did you have to bring the wagtail with you.
Willie just can’t help but get into the act.

Off to see Ambrose

August 19, 2014August 19, 2014Posted in Jon Young, Rose Robin, What the Robin Knows6 Comments

This is one of those posts that’s a bit out of sequence. Just had other things to post.

A couple of weeks back we had a morning free and decided to go and visit with our friend Ambrose, the Rose Robin.

He had decided to winter over in a small patch of scrub away from the highway, and near a used, but not well maintained track. To get to it, we’d follow the track a bit, then move onto some well formed Kangaroo pads. The ‘roo pads are easier to walk, and they don’t waste any uphill/downhill meandering. Very energy conscious is your Eastern Grey, so they tend to take the easiest way along a creek line or over a ridge. Their number one rule: “Don’t loose height, and avoid the thick scrub” So its usually pretty flat, and always interesting walking.

When we got the stand of wattle that Ambrose had called home, I was pretty flabbergasted to find that some local “Landcare (?)” group had decided to clean up the undergrowth and pile all the logs, sticks and leaves into one great big heap at the end of the stand. Of course this meant for the birds, all the normal perching, hunting and hiding places were now removed. I could just imagine how this happened with a handful of ‘community’ minded folk ‘taking care of the scrub’ in their area. No doubt with motorised “Bush Whackers” to clean up the offending leaves, grass and stubborn undergrowth. And there would have been of course the good natured yelling and joking with one another as they scoured the tiny moss beds with the equipment, dragging of logs, and stomping with boots. All to go home at night to their respective dwellings, having completely ruined the environment for the winter overing birds. It would be like going to their house, piling all at the furniture and belongings in one corner, and then emptying out the pantry too.!

Any wonder then as we stood there in the Landcare (?) equivalent of a moon scape that the usual Thornbills, Wrens, Flame Robins, Whistlers, Honeyeaters and Fantails, were not only no where to be seen, but not even heard. A pity as this little block of wattle had been a bit of a honeypot over winter.

After 20 minutes of sitting and listing, it was pretty obvious that the friendly character of Ambrose was also not going to make an appearance. In protest, I redistributed a handful of the “Landcare (?)” pile of logs across the moss beds, and we decided to go elsewhere.

As we were swinging out of the wattle stand, across the open area I spied a flash of grey and magenta. He was there. I don’t do bird calls, either vocal or recorded (see the sidebar), but I feel confident enough with this bird to talk to him… And he came over.
Now if Robins can do indignant he had every right I reckon, but he simply chirruped (It’s a bit like a single note on a mouth organ), and began to hunt around the tops of the wattles. Occasionally coming down to see if I was following. For the next half an hour or so, this delightful little bird graced us with his presence, stopping to pose, and happy to turn his head when I spoke. I know I’ve quoted Jon Young before, but here he is again:

If we don’t barge in and kick up a big flock of frightened birds – if we replace collision with connection, learn to read the details, feel at home, relax, and are respectful- ultimately the birds will yield to us the first rite of passage: a close encounter with a bird otherwise wary of our presence.

So we sat and chatted, he hunted, entertained us with his chirrup, and ultimately sat on a stick a couple of metres away and preened. He hunted so close at one stage that I said to him, “If you get any closer, mate, you’ll be in my pocket and I’ll have to take you home!”

In the end we had to say goodbye and I could hear Jon Young again:

To understand we must slowly but surely expand the sphere of awareness and shrink the sphere of disturbance by learning and practicing good etiquette. We begin to start seeing and hearing more birds.

Hello Ambrose, hope you’ll be polite enough to come back next season.