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.

Slime mould at Manly Dam!

This morning I came across two colonies of slime mould. At least, I think that’s what this yellow gunge is. I’m not a mycologist — it’d be great to hear from someone who knows for certain.

This photo shows two mounds of bright yellow slime mould (I think) that I spotted on the ground in Manly Dam Park, New South Wales. The mounds nestled amongst the ground cover of leaves and sticks:

The stuff was soft to the touch. I prodded the larger piece with a stick, and discovered that the inside was mushy and slightly darker in colour than the outside:

Slime mould is the coolest thing since poached eggs. It spends part of its time as tiny separate organisms. When the going gets tough, the separate bits find each other and form a single body that can move around in search of food. The body seems to have an intelligence of its own, and scientists are intrigued by the possibilities of human cooperation with slime mould. 

In a different area of the park was a collection of similar stuff, this time part-way up a tree trunk:

I didn’t get very close, because there was a lot of vegetation-covered ground ground between me and the tree. It looked like the ideal home for snakes, spiders, and leeches. Instead, I used my camera lens to zoom in:

So, what do you think — slime mould or not?

If you’re interested in more beautiful and interesting fungi, take a look at my Soothing Musing: The humble mushroom.

Cockatoo on a beach at sunrise

Common name: Sulphur-crested Cockatoo
Scientific name: Cacatua galerita
Approximate length: 50 cm
Date spotted: 27 December 2020 (summer)
Location: Forty Baskets Beach, New South Wales, Australia: 33°48’11.5″S 151°16’12.1″E

Eat your greens! Baby swans growing up

Early in October I spotted a family of swans at Manly Dam. These are Australian Black Swans. When I first saw them, there were five baby swans (cygnets), closely watched over by two adults. This was one of the little ones, just a few days old then, I think:

Since then, I’ve been watching the cygnets grow. Alas, two of them disappeared over the weeks. But there are still three of the cygnets, still with their parents in late December, and much bigger and stronger.

The video below shows a cygnet and a parent feeding on water weeds. This was towards the end of November, when the cygnets were around six weeks old. Near the beginning of the video, the adult swan grabs a clump of weed and dumps it near the baby.

Eat your greens!

Later the video zooms out to show the entire family of three babies and two adults:

Here’s one of the cygnets swimming with an adult, also at around six weeks old:

On 23 December, at ten to eleven weeks old, the cygnets are much bulkier and their faces look more swan-like:

Even at this age, their wings are still small and stumpy, nowhere near ready for flight:

Common name: Black Swan
Scientific name: Cygnus atratus
Approximate length of adult: 120 cm
Date spotted: 9 October 2020 (spring) through to 23 December 2020 (summer)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia: 33°46’58.5″S 151°15’18.6″E

Sandy termite mound looks like a maze

This sandy mound caught my eye, because it looked like it had some weird dark encrustations growing on it:

A closer look revealed a maze of tunnels, actively being built by termites:

I’d passed this sandy mound many times before, not realizing it was a termite mound. Most of the termite mounds in our area of Australia look quite different from this one. They’re dark in colour, and are usually half way up a tree. I’m also surprised to see the termites building onto the outside of the mound in this way.

Here you can see that the termites have covered over some of the tunnels, and the roofs in the middle area are already dry and looking more like the rest of the mound:

So cute! Baby kookaburra in nest

For the past few weeks, I’ve been following the progress of a baby kookaburra and its parents. The baby was housed in a termite nest on an old, dead tree. The first time that I noticed the nest was more than a month ago, on 17 November. At that time, the only sign of the baby was a faint crooning sound emerging from the termite nest. I’d heard baby kookaburras before, so I stuck around to see what would happen. Sure enough, an adult bird arrived with some food.

From that day on, I visited the nest regularly. And now, I’m delighted to report that the baby bird has safely left the nest and is being fed in the nearby trees.

The first video shows the baby kookaburra just a few days before it left the nest. The date was 14 December, almost a full month after I first noticed the nest. In the video, the baby peers curiously (and hungrily, no doubt) from the nest. You can hear an adult kookaburra off camera, calling to let the chick know that food is on its way. I moved the camera to take in the adult on a nearby branch. The bird checks the surroundings carefully, including me, to decide whether it’s safe to approach and feed the chick.

Meanwhile, the chick becomes more vociferous and sticks its head further out of the nest, impatient at the delay. The adult moved to a different branch to give itself a direct line of flight. I managed to catch a view of the adult there too, before moving back to the nest in time to see the adult arrive and feed the baby:

The parents were tireless and devoted in their care for the baby. On a couple of occasions, I spotted them foraging for food:

When the parents were not around, the chick eyed me from the safety of its home. The smallest scuffle was enough to bring an inquisitive eye to the hole in the nest:

Partially hidden but oh so curious:

The nest was on the skeleton of a dead tree:

This is an earlier, short video (taken on 3 December) showing a parent arriving to feed the chick:

When I arrived on 17 December, the nest was quiet. Again the next day, there was no activity at the nest. I explored the area and soon heard the characteristic crooning of a kookaburra youngster. I found it in a quiet, tree-filled glen, being attended to two adults in turn. It was early in the morning, and the birds were high in the trees, so I didn’t manage to get a good photo. This is the glen:

This is the only photo I have of the youngster. Alas, I didn’t get the full head in the shot, but you can see the fluffiness of the feathers and the short tail:

Common name: Laughing Kookaburra
Scientific name: Dacelo novaeguineae
Approximate length: 47 cm
Date spotted: 18 December 2020 (summer)
Location: Manly Dam Park, New South Wales, Australia

This is the view the baby kookaburra had from its nest. It looks over Manly Dam towards the dam wall, with a bottlebrush bush glowing in the early morning light. A room with a view indeed:

Finally, here’s the view that the baby must have seen when it first emerged from its nest and could look in the other direction, up the length of Manly Dam: