Random Memories of Australia - Part 7

     During this period of lockdown at one level of severity or another, I am sure that many of us have been scouring our photographic archives, and I am no exception. If your experience resembles mine, there are treasures to be uncovered, and memories to be awoken.

     I am happy to present more birds from my 2018 trip to Australia. The recall that these images have inspired has been very pleasurable, and I hope you  will continue to enjoy the wonderful birds from down under.

     While I am at it, let me put in a plug for one of the most remarkable books I have read in a long time. For anyone interested in Australia's birds, Where Song Began, Tim Low's account of Australian birds and how they changed the world, is essential reading.

     And now, on to the birds.

Australian King Parrot (Alisterus scapularis)

     We did not encounter Australian King Parrot as frequently as we did some of the other parrots, but we did see it in both New South Wales and Victoria on more than one occasion.

♂

     As befits the name King Parrot it is quite a large bird (42 cm.) and comports itself with an undeniable regal demeanour. It favours densely forested areas but in recent years has learned to exploit suburban gardens and parks for easily secured food dispensed by humans.

     Scarlet is heavily favoured for ceremonial robes, both for royalty and religion; doubtless that preference was a factor in the bird acquiring its name.

     The female is slightly more subdued, but no less splendidly attractive.

     Despite the vivid red and green which dominate the colour pattern of both sexes, you will note how easy it is for the birds to blend into their background and you may walk past them without noticing them as long as they remain still and quiet.

     This bird is undeniable royalty in my house!

Musk Lorikeet (Glossopsitta concinna)

     Perhaps rivalled only by the lovebirds of Africa, lorikeets of all species seem to portray a level of affection for a partner, akin to human relationships in the eyes of those who wish to so construe it.

     When we met our first Musk Lorikeets it had been raining, and continued to rain on and off, a situation in which the birds seemed to take great delight.

    No doubt they welcomed the opportunity to clean their feathers, but once bedraggled it was time to snuggle up to that special other.

     A little reciprocal nuzzling seemed just what the parrot love counsellor ordered.

     I don't recall, in fact, ever seeing a single Musk Lorikeet, they were always in pairs or part of a small group.

     Musk Lorikeets are known to be so intent when feeding that they ignore danger, and were labelled as  stupid birds when they refused to leave the tree even when shot at. Isn't it amazing how we are so quick to interpret trust as stupidity? Surely only humans can make that leap of pejorative idiocy. 

Yellow Wattlebird (Anthochaera paradoxa)

     I have already covered two of the three wattlebirds we saw, and now I turn my attention to the final one, the Yellow Wattlebird, a Tasmanian endemic.

     This is Australia's largest honeyeater and the long, pendulous deep yellow wattles are clearly visible.

     The belly is also a rich, sulphurous yellow.

     Yellow Wattlebirds gather at blooming eucalypts and other blossoms, sometime in small groups where they feed avidly together.

     Its voice is a harsh croak or cough which some have described as resembling vomiting! Yellow Wattlebird is clearly not ranked highly on the musical scale! 

     As is the case with many honeyeaters, Yellow Wattlebird has learned to exploit gardens, where it becomes quite tame.

Dusky Robin (Melanodryas vittata)

     After the many highly colourful Australian birds I have presented so far, you are going to find this Tasmanian endemic quite dull - but no less charming!

     It is basically a plain brown bird, which may be encountered singly, in pairs or in small groups.

     Typically, it feeds from a perch, dropping down to capture insects.

     It was quite common in suitable habitat, viz open woodland, forest edges, scrub and gardens.

     It was commonly seen on the ground at Inala, and Bruny Island is in fact one of its strongholds.

Maned Duck (Chenonetta jubata)

     We observed this species, also known as Australian Wood Duck, more frequently than any other species of duck. And often a pair had young in tow.

     It is the familiar duck of parks and public places, not averse to approaching humans to mooch a little food.

    I always found Maned Duck handsome, appealing, and a welcome addition to my day. It became like a predictable old friend.

♂

♀

     Are they not a stunning pair?

     This species nests in tree holes but is quite willing to accept a suitable substitute and takes readily to nest boxes. Breeding is frequently triggered by rainfall and can be initiated throughout the year.

     Dump laying often occurs so the number of eggs hatched and the parentage of the young is variable.

     Both parents take an active role in raising the family, and it seemed to us the male had a special duty in corralling errant ducklings back to the group!

     Like ducklings the world over, cuteness is their hallmark. Feel at liberty to choose your adjective. Oohs and ahs are permitted!

Australian Magpie (Gymnorhina tibicen)

     If one were asked to identify the most ubiquitous and successful Australian bird, Australian Magpie would be a candidate for that honour.

     Named a magpie by early settlers it has no connection with the magpies of Europe, Asia and North America which are corvids; it is in fact a large butcherbird adapted for life on the ground.

     Dirt on the bill of the bird above is clearly visible, indicative of its habit of probing into the soil for juicy invertebrates. 

     Many Australians seem to have a bit of a love/hate relationship with this species. 

     Its song is melodious and cheerful, but it can leave a lawn in disarray following a session of feeding, especially when two are three individuals are  involved.

     During the breeding season it is known to attack humans with unrestrained ferocity. It appears to be able to identify individuals, cyclists for example, and target them as victims of its wrath. An attack on the head that draws blood is not unknown.

     We were never subjected to the ire of a discontented magpie, however, and enjoyed every moment they bestowed their company upon us.

Another Australian Treasure

     When I first started blogging, I never imagined that real friendships would develop with people I had never seen, yet would come to know well, and cherish.

     Sue Goldberg of Canberra is one of those people.

     Sue sends me feathers!

     Throughout the world indigenous cultures have found inspiration, guidance and strength from feathers. Some North American first nations, for example, revere an eagle feather, believing that the strength and courage of the bird can be acquired by the human holding the feather. Feathers are totemic, and one does not have to be swayed by the metaphysical implications attributed to them, to know that they are special.

     As I look across my desk to the bookshelves on the wall opposite I see exactly what you see in the picture above.

     These are primarily feathers shed by Sulphur-crested Cockatoos (Cacatua galerita) and Long-billed Corellas (Cacatua tenuirostris) and the dark primary feather at the right is that of a Cape Barren Goose (Cereopsis novaehollandiae) that I collected on Philip Island in Victoria, to complete the Australian connection.

     Sue sends not only flight feathers, but contour feathers too, soft, fluffy, fragile, delicate.

     For Sue, more than most people, understands the essence of birds. There is more to them than biometrics and classification, more than a name on a list, a target to tick off for the day, a perfect photograph. She feels, at the very core of her being I hasten to add, that birds are wonders that bring joy to our lives, magnify our sense of awe, and render apparent the privilege of knowing them.

     And nothing has the power to remind us of birds more than feathers. Indeed feathers are the very character that defines a bird.

     Sue has Sulphur-crested Cockatoos visit her regularly, and watches in dismay as they decapitate her flowers. She has aptly named them Sulphur-crested Vandals. But she loves them! She understands that we have taken their habitat from them, usurped their food sources, removed trees in which they breed, and if we have to suffer a little annoyance or inconvenience it is a small price to pay for sharing our lives with them.

     A feather does not make a bird, but it does have the power to make me know that a life spent with birds has been the best choice I could have made.

     Thank you Sue Goldberg. Thank you again and again.