Blue mobsters

I was in the garden the day the blue wren fledglings flew the nest. 

I had watched as they built the nest in a prickly acacia right beside the path to the vege patch. A wren in the chook yard collecting feathers is a bit of a give away. Things went quiet for a while as the parents sat on the eggs, then once the babies hatched life got busy for them. That was when the rest of the mob joined in. There was a constant stream of them, catching food and delivering to the hungry mouths in the nest.   

That morning, I was seated on the deck, savouring the early sunshine and the last mouthful of my breakfast, cashews and craisins. Two tiny grey shapes flashed across the corner of my eye. They zoomed onto the verandah, rapidly followed by Blake who dived after them. One veered up and away, the other was hidden behind Blake's large furry body. I yelled and jumped up in an instant my heart in my mouth. Horror at he thought of the tiny baby disappearing down his gullet.

Blake pulled back instantly and I saw a little pile of grey feathers on the ground ... not moving. This was not looking good. I picked up the body, it was alive, unharmed, but had a tangle of spider webs ensnaring a wing and a foot. No wonder it bombed onto the ground. You should have seen the blue wren mob suddenly appear when I picked the baby up. I was surrounded by four grey females and three bright blue males all scolding me. Very unhappy mobsters. 

The fledgling felt so fragile as I carefully pulled the sticky web away. It was a delicate operation, the bird was tiny, just a few grams and the thinnest legs you can imagine. Finally free of web, I let it go, wondering how it could possibly fly at all, it had such a short tail and the bird was sooo tiny. But it was up and away onto the beams of the shadehouse. Soon the family were there beside it and normal feeding resumed.

This is the baby with a fuzzy parent in the foreground.

Mauve hakeas, red dirt and Bilbies

Check out the colour of this Hakea rhombales. I think it is fantastic. I first saw it in flower on a trip to the Carnarvon Ranges back in 2000. I determined then I would one day grow it in my garden. It has been a long time coming but here are images of the first flowers in my own garden. This hakea which I grew from seed, was planted about eight years ago when we first moved here. It pays to be patient.  

To the Ngaatatjarra people this plant is known as Walukarra.  Hakea rhombales was first collected by Ernest Giles in 1876 on his fifth journey into the arid regions of Australia. His party began at Perth, headed up towards the Ashburton River then travelled inland across the Gibson Desert. The hakea grows on red sand and loam dunes and sandplains. On this trip it was growing on the sandplains at the base of the Carnarvon Ranges in the Little Sandy Desert.

Currently access to the Carnarvon Ranges is closed while the Birriliburu native title custodians of the land work out conditions and management of access to this area for the general public.

Here is just a taster of the Carnarvon Ranges. We were fortunate to travel there in the year before access to the area was restricted. Our first stop was at Virgin Springs. Here there was a seep in the rocks which we camped well away from as many birds came in to drink during the day. 

Here are emus coming in to drink. They are well camouflaged in this environment. A little way down from here was a small pool at which we saw finches, budgies and birds of prey.

An old and gnarled tree growing beside Talbot Rockhole.

Serpent's Glen has this lovely copse of white trunked eucalypts growing at the base of the rocks.

The bark of a minni richi acacia glows against the sunlight.

In some survey work done in the last few years colonies of Mulgara and Bilbies were found in this area - fantastic! For information about the work that is currently being done in the area by the Birriliburu people in conjunction with biodiversity experts, anthropologists and DEC follow this link here.

Charmed feathers

My parents stayed with us a little while ago; Dad had been invited to give a talk to a local community group. One morning he spied a heron flying overhead and remarked it looked like the flight of a white-necked heron rather than the ubiquitous white faced heron. I'd never seen them around and said it was sure to be the common variety.

A few days after Mum and Dad had left I saw a strange large white necked bird down by our dam. Hmmm. Perhaps Dad was right after all.

Yesterday I saw it again and grabbed my camera and stalked it from bush to bush as I headed down the hill towards our dam. The bird knew I was there, staring at me, and moving slowly about it's business. It's long white neck waved from side to side, a bit like the cobras being sung to by Indian snake charmers. I don't know if the snakes really do sway from side to side, but it is how I remember them being portrayed.

The bird in turn was stalking things in the grass, perhaps looking for tasty frogs or grasshoppers. But why it had a swaying neck - it's head stayed steady - is still a puzzle.

When I was too close for comfort it flapped over to the other side of the dam. The bird eyeballed me again then came in closer for a drink. The double row of spots on the neck are sported by juveniles. The neck is all white on adult birds. As the birds grow up to a metre in height they are quite impressive.

This bird is sporting plum coloured breeding plumes. I think it looks magnificent. In the south they generally breed in spring to early summer, building a nest in a mature tree near water.

Finally it had had enough of me snapping pictures of it from behind a small tree. It gave a harsh guttural croaking call and slowly flapped off up the valley. 

Happiness is ...

Eight puppies at six and a half weeks

Making the most of the mist

Last week we had misty humid weather, slightly warmish, with barely a glimpse of the sun. Cloud swirled in the valley, slipping between fog and mist and hazy air throughout the days. 

Chameleon weather.

 'Rain' simply condensed out of the moist air leaving a wet covering on everything.  

Glistening drops decorated leaves and branches, tiny autumn baubles.

 The birds have been happy.

 Their dawn chorus has been riotous; the wattle birds chortled in alto while twenty eight parrots pinged an out of sync descant in the still air.

I caught this twenty eight parrot having an air bath. 

Preening and ruffling its feathers in the heavy misty air.

Table skinks and tomato frogs

King skinks are newcomers to our garden. They first showed themselves as a rustle and disappearing tail in my vege garden. And a tail that was distinctly not snake, which was a pleasant change. Next I came across a big one sheltering in my garden shed. Just today I came across this.

A king skink sunbaking on our garden table. The top slab is made from a huge lump of marri and it sports a large crack along the length of it. A perfect hiding space if you are a large skink. This king skink would be close to forty to forty five centimetres long.

Egernia kingii hiding in the table

These Egernia's are usually found not too far from the coast and love to shelter beneath rocks, in crevices like our table and burrows. They are omnivorous so I'm hoping they may have developed a taste for snails and slaters along with the usual insects and other small animals. I expect they will be munching on the plentiful tomatoes too.

On the subject of tomatoes - we have a plentiful supply of young frogs hanging out in the tomato bushes. I guess they like the humidity there. If they are not careful they may well become king skink dinner. Frog with a side serve of tomato. Delicious??

The frogs are Litoria moorei, or Western green tree frog. They have a distinctive call rather like a motorbike changing gears. Their other common name is the motor bike frog. When there is a moist change on the way they usually start calling about a day in advance. When rain is forecast and the frogs don't call we know the rain is probably going to bypass us.

Littoria moorei  

Secretive rails

Every now and again we are lucky enough  to chance upon a buff-banded rail making an excursion into our garden. Recently I was outside early in the morning to pick a few ripe peaches for my breakfast. I love the sweet juicy flavour of gold fleshed peaches first thing in the morning. I eat a few while I pick them, and carry in the survivors with juice covered hands. Miske watches me attentively waiting for her share. I reluctantly give Miske a few morsels of the delectable flesh and any squishy fallen fruit. She loves to eat the summer fruits just as much as we humans do. One of the reasons we need to net our fruit is to keep Miske out, otherwise she would demolish any fruit within her reach.

 

Back to the rail. As I reached the fruit trees that morning, there in the shadows was a rail, quietly going about its business. Feeding in the grasses, pecking at the dandelion flowers, preening and stretching. I gently went back inside, grabbed my camera and came back out to photograph it. The rail seemed to be oblivious to my presence and carried on fossicking for quite some time before moving out of sight behind the swale. A day later I flushed it from beside the house feeding amongst the dichondra and roses. Off it flew down the paddock flashing its buff stripes.

Buff-banded rails are usually seen singly or sometimes in pairs. I have only seen individual rails here. They commonly are seen feeding early in the morning or late in the afternoon, hunting for anything from insects and small crustaceans and snails to seeds and fruits. And presumable dandelion flowers too. They live in dense damp vegetation found on the margins on wetlands both natural and man made. Their cup shaped nest is built on the ground, hidden in dense vegetation or reeds and grasses. Both parents incubate the young. The downy black chicks are able to leave the nest within twenty fours hours of hatching, being cared for by both parents in much the same way as chooks and ducks.

Red summer

This is the time of the year for the riot of colour brought to us by the red flowering gums, which grow naturally in limited coastal areas near here. Of course we grow them in our gardens, even though they can be a little touchy about conditions.

And the red winged wrens have returned after raising their young here in the garden some months ago. As soon as the babies were fledged and left the nest they disappeared into the bush. Just recently I have seen them flitting about the garden. The images below were taken on a particularly hot day. Nothing like a good splash to cool down and freshen up.