Call of the Red Wattlebird
This Red Wattlebird was quite chatty in the crisp morning air.
Usually when walking in the bush I hear the more raucous croaks of this bird and its cousin, the Little Wattlebird. So it was nice to hear something a little more melodious.
Here’s a still picture of the Red Wattlebird, showing the red flap below its eye which gives the bird its name:
The feathers on its back are quite decorative, and a sun ray lights up the yellow on the bird’s belly:
Common name: Red Wattlebird
Scientific name: Anthochaera carunculata
Approximate length: 35 cm
Date spotted: 24 April 2021 (autumn)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’10.0″S 151°14’53.6″E
Magpie scolds tree feller
The time has come for the felling of some huge gum trees in our neighbourhood. I’m hoping only some of the trees in the row will go, but I don’t know what the intention is. The trees are magnificent, but they’re a danger to the houses beneath them. I live in the next block, and had a bird’s eye view of the felling.
Over the past few weeks, there’s been some trimming of branches and undergrowth. Today was the big day for the removal of the trees. This photo shows the row of trees at the start of the day — they’re the white-barked giants in the middle of the picture, above the rubbish bins. See the orange blotch part-way up a tree on the right of the row? That’s the tree feller checking out the situation.
The trees are even higher than you think. The plot on which they’re growing is below the level of the road — in fact, the roof of the house is below the level of the road. So, the trees start about two stories below road level.
In the next photo, the tree feller has climbed higher and is attaching a harness and sling:
I take my hat off to the people who undertake tasks like this. So high!
This video shows one of the trees falling. It was the fourth one to go down. This one landed on the roof of the house below, which as far as I could tell was not the intention:
The neighbourhood birds were quite distressed about the whole experience. Rainbow Lorikeets zoomed away when the first tree came down. A couple of King Parrots swooped around calling, landing in our trees, then taking off again. An Australian Magpie sat in one of the trees outside my window and watched the proceedings. After the first tree came down, the Maggie swooped down to the power line near the row of trees and sang at the tree feller for about five minutes non-stop. I’m sure the Maggie was telling him off roundly:
The next video shows the tree feller climbing one of the trees. What a job!
Here’s the view the next morning:
I’m sad to see these grand old trees go, but I do understand the need to ensure the safety of the people living beneath them.
Eastern Rosella a frequent visitor
How lucky am I? This gorgeous bird has taken to dropping by frequently, and hanging out on our telephone line. It’s a male Eastern Rosella. Often the female comes along too, but she’s more shy and flies off when I appear.
Eastern Rosellas are medium-sized parrots, at about 30cm from head to tail. This one usually makes his presence known with a distinctive twittering call. The phone line is below the level of my lounge window, so he has to look up to spot me.
Common name: Eastern Rosella
Scientific name: Platycercus eximius
Approximate length: 30 cm
Date spotted: 10 April 2021 (autumn)
Location: Allambie Heights, NSW, Australia
Scrubwren at a forest pool
Yesterday I spent some time sitting near a forest creek. Birds flitted around me. A Red Wattlebird dived repeatedly into the water and retreated to a branch for some serious grooming. A little scrubwren explored the mossy rock near the pools and running streams formed by the creek.
An aerial view showing the bird’s back:
Here’s one with a somewhat whimsical view of the water:
Common name: White-browed Scrubwren
Scientific name: Sericornis frontalis
Approximate length: 12 cm
Date spotted: 12 April 2021 (autumn)
Location: Manly Creek, New South Wales, Australia: 33°45’49.6″S 151°14’14.7″E
Diamond Python in Banksia tree
A couple of days ago, when walking along a bush bath in the Manly Dam park, I met a man carrying an empty cloth bag attached to a stick. I said hallo, received a friendly greeting in return, then asked him what he was capturing. He said, “Releasing, not capturing.”
“OK, what are you releasing?” said I.
“A Diamond Python.” When I responded with a delighted smile rather than a fearful gasp, he said, “Would you like to see it?” He led me down a path and pointed to the snake, which was making its way happily up a Heath Banksia tree.
The markings on the snake’s skin are amazingly intricate. And such a gorgeous face:
The snake catcher said that the snake had been found on the roof of someone’s car in a nearby suburb. He’d been called to remove the snake, and Manly Dam park is a great place to release creatures like this.
Diamond Pythons are related to Carpet Pythons, and are native to the eastern coast of Australia (which is where I am). They’re the most southerly occurring python in the world. This one was about two metres long, I think. They can grow up to three metres.
Here’s a short video showing the snake’s lazy movement as it slides along the branches of the Heath Banksia tree:
Thank you to Chris Zabriskie for the video soundtrack:
What True Self, Feels Bogus, Let’s Watch Jason X by Chris Zabriskie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Source: http://chriszabriskie.com/reappear/
Artist: http://chriszabriskie.com/
What about the birds, you may ask? Since this is primarily a blog about birds, where do they fit in? Diamond Pythons do eat birds, but their typical prey is small animals and reptiles. The python lies in wait for its prey, sometimes for days on end. Then the snake snatches the creature, wraps itself around it, and smothers it to death before swallowing it whole.
Swans enjoying flooded picnic area
It’s been a bit wet on the east coast of Australia. For many people, the recent floods have been devastating and very sad. I’ve been lucky to be largely unaffected. I’m so sorry for all those who’re still suffering the effects of the flood
Yesterday it stopped raining and I went for a walk. I came across these swans exploring a picnic area:
Today the water has already receded quite a bit:
The swans are nearby, relaxing on the recently-emerged grass:
For those who’ve seen my posts about the family of swans over the past few months: yes, this is the same family. The babies are pretty much grown up already.
Common name: Black Swan
Scientific name: Cygnus atratus
Approximate length: 120 cm
Date spotted: 25 March 2021 (autumn)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’58.5″S 151°15’18.6″E
Beautiful red and brown Orb Weaving Spider
When walking along bush paths, especially early in the morning, I often walk through large spider webs spun across the path. Not infrequently, I end up with a spider in my hair or on my clothes.
Today I spotted the web and its occupant in time to avoid a collision! The spider was a Garden Orb Weaver (Eriophora sp). This individual was quite lovely, with red upper legs changing to black as they reached its body. Look at that cute furry head!
This was a large spider, its body about 2 cm long. We often see Garden Orb Weavers in our area, but I haven’t seen one with this colouring before. They come in a variety of sizes, shapes, and colours. (In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone decides to do more research into these spiders and split up the classification a bit.) Here’s a side view of the one I saw yesterday:
I carefully walked around the web, using a tried-and-true method of waving a stick in front of me to detect stray strands of silk, and photographed the spider from the other side:
Garden Orb Weaving Spiders aren’t keen to bite you. If they do bite you, the symptoms are usually mild, usually limited to pain and swelling at the site of the bite. If you have worse symptoms or are concerned, seek medical advice. I haven’t yet been bitten. Long may that happy state of affairs last!
Location of the spider: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’51.5″S 151°14’51.0″E.
What about the birds, you may ask? Since this is primarily a blog about birds, where do they fit in? Birds do eat these spiders. Recently, an Australian Noisy Miner was extremely interested in a large Orb Weaver outside my window. The bird approached along the telephone line, then leapt into the air and hovered about a metre away from the spider. For some reason, the bird abandoned the attack. Maybe there wasn’t enough room for the bird to fly in, grab the spider, then swoop away before hitting the window.
Eastern Whipbirds chatting and pecking at tree
An Eastern Whipbird was busily pecking at a tree, presumably to get at insects or grubs under the bark. Pretty soon, another bird joined the first one. They had an amiable chat. It looked as if they were consulting on how to tackle this troublesome hard bark on the tree. The first bird went back to the task while the other looked on. After a while, the first gave up and the second stepped in to give it a go.
I think the birds are quite young, because their feathers are a little untidy and the white cheek patches aren’t clearly defined. Perhaps they’re siblings!
It was interesting to see the birds interacting and to hear their chatting sounds. I often hear the long drawn-out call that gives these birds their name (this post has some examples) but I haven’t seen them chatting before.
Common name: Eastern Whipbird
Scientific name: Psophodes olivaceus
Approximate length: 30 cm
Date spotted: 15 February 2021 (summer)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’44.3″S 151°14’58.8″E
Bluebottle jellyfish can sting even when dead
Yesterday, I went for a stroll along Manly beach, north of Sydney. A line of beached Bluebottle jellyfish ran along the length of the beach.
(The only bird in this post is that little Silver Gull, peacefully asleep next to the stingers.)
Bluebottles are also called Pacific Men-of-War, I guess because the floating part looks a little like a ship at sail. Viewed close up, bluebottles are quite beautiful.
On top is a bag formed of gas-filled tubules that keep the bluebottle afloat and upright. Here’s another bluebottle, with a purple tinge on the top ridge of the floater:
Walking along the beach was a little tricky, because we had to dodge the bluebottles and their long, stinging tentacles that stretched out across the sand.:
Even when a bluebottle is dead, the tentacles can still give you a nasty sting. Tens of thousands of Australians are stung each year. Luckily, the stings of the Bluebottles found on the non-tropical, east coast of Australia are generally not fatal, though they are very painful.
Although we call them jellyfish, a bluebottle is in fact not a jellyfish. Each bluebottle is actually four different types of animals living together as a colony. There’s the creature that forms the gas-filled bag on top, keeping the jellyfish afloat. A second type of creature provides the tentacles, which sting the jellyfish’s prey and then draw it up to the digestive polyps, which are the third type of creature. The fourth creature provides the reproductive system.
A group of bluebottles is called an armada, like a fleet of ships. Mass beachings happen when the wind blows the bluebottles ashore. A weird thing I learned today: each bluebottle is built with its top part (the gas bag) positioned either to the right or to the left of the rest of the creature. Evidently, this affects the steering and helps to ensure that only half of an armada gets stranded on the beach when the wind forces them ashore.
It’s sad to see so many creatures perish. Still, I’m glad I had the opportunity to see them up close and learn about them.
Juvenile Channel-billed Cuckoo and female Koel Cuckoo
Today an unearthly caterwauling called my attention to a juvenile Channel-billed Cuckoo perched on a wire. It was crouched down, flapping its wings, and uttering harsh calls:
Even at this age, it’s a big bird. I’d guess it was already full size, at around 60 centimetres in length. A giant baby indeed. And one that needs a lot of feeding.
The youngster stretched out its neck and called even louder:
It peered up into the air expectantly:
I didn’t catch any pictures of the next stage, alas, because the bird flew to a leafy tree and was mostly hidden from view. I did see the dedicated proxy parent, a Currawong, feeding the youngster, accompanied by a frenzied gabbling noise from the demanding child.
Common name: Channel-billed Cuckoo
Scientific name: Scythrops novaehollandiae
Approximate length: 58-65 cm
Date spotted: 23 January 2021 (summer)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’06.4″S 151°14’52.6″E
In a nearby tree, a female Koel Cuckoo sat and watched the commotion:
Common name: Common Koel or Eastern Koel
Scientific name: Eudynamys scolopacea
Approximate length: 45 cm
Date spotted: 23 January 2021 (summer)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’06.4″S 151°14’52.6″E
Both Channel-billed and Koel cuckoos are parasitic cuckoos, which means that they lay their eggs in the nests of other birds, and leave it up to those other birds to feed and care for the youngsters. Bot cuckoo types are migratory, coming down to this part of Australia for the warmer summer months, then heading to more northern countries for the winter.
Want to know more? I’ve posted some pictures and stories about previous encounters with cuckoos.
Sydney Birder 