PHOTOGRAPHING 'BLIRREDS'...

Digiscoping....

....a real bugger at times.



Red Knot and one or two Curlew Sandpiper (like you couldn't tell!?)

An exasperating mix of photographing birds and 'blurred's'.

I have written about my folly with the camera and scope before. Sometimes I feel like I'm getting somewhere and other times I contemplate tossing it all into the sea.

I have slowly come to realise that digiscoping may be somewhat of a black art. When it comes to digiscoping one must patiently endure a protracted and mysterious courtship before one moves any closer to true love, eventual mastery and possibly eternal madness.

For me, different photographic styles and subjects have revealed themselves to be situated in very distinct categories or levels of difficulty.

For example, the 'bird on ground' type of shot seems to be the easiest way to manoeuvre the tripod, scope and camera and get resulting images that are of a satisfactory standard.

Second in its level of complexity is the 'bird in bush/tree' type of shot. This type of shot is usually hampered by the movement and activity of the bird, the depth of cover the bird can dive back into in an instant (usually just as you pull crystal clear focus...) and the frustrating knack that your digiscoping set up has in refusing to angle upward beyond 20 degrees toward said trees.

But by far, for me at least, the most awkward shot to successfully execute would have to be the 'bird in flight' type of shot. You're often up against the velocity with which the bird is travelling, the blinding glare of the sun (that you will no doubt find yourself staring into) as you stubbornly follow said bird with the scope and the 'up and down, side to side' freedom of movement that is flight.

Despite my inability to do anything right with this rig that I affectionately call 'Quasimodo' I do occasionally pull off the odd fluke and surprise myself with a cracking image or two.



Caspian Tern Hydroprogne caspia



Caspian Tern Hydroprogne caspia

GULLS AIN'T GULLS....

Q: When is a Silver Gull not just a 'Seagull'?

...well, I think there's a certain majesty and a little bit of menace about a Gull as it quietly scours the detritus left behind by the small waves lapping on a deserted beach. It's even more interesting to see a group of three Gulls each displaying the various markings that delineate their age and rank. From the sinister, white-eyed glare and lipstick-red bills and legs of a fully mature adult to the smutty-flecked plumage and 'doe-eyed' appearance of the juvenile Gull  - there's a gulf of cunning, devilment and street smarts between these generations of Gull.

 

Hated in city parks and suburban carparks and barely tolerated on our beaches, Silver Gulls cop quite a lot of flak form certain members of the biped population (and their pets). But, removed from the malarkey of of our urban confines and playgrounds the Silver Gull is a pretty awesome piece of purpose-built biology.

 

Just watch one do away with an unwitting crab in one or two strikes for evidence of how clever they really are.

 

...and then, of course, there's the famous interpersonal rivalries and relationship troubles.

Silver Gulls are good value in my book and worthy of some of our time and sympathy, they're even worthy of a few kind words and sympathetic photography too!

A BEVY OF BAR-WITS...

A miserable, dark and wet morning turned golden when I spied a small group of medium-sized waders feeding just offshore at Port Prime. The 'Prime' ain't usually such a great spot for birding as one's morning solitude can be shattered in an instant as caterwauling two-stroke trailbikes and single cylinder thumpers tear (illegally) across the claypans just east of the coast and a mere 100 metres or so from the fertile feeding grounds of this tidal beach. Despite this, I thought I'd pull in for a quick scout & count when I happened upon a small group of Bar-tailed Godwit feeding on a falling tide.

In 2007 a flock of Bar-tailed Godwit were tagged in New Zealand and then tracked on their migratory journey toward China. On route to China, one female that was tagged within that original flock, made a brief stop-over on the feeding grounds on the Yellow Sea before heading onward to Alaska. After reaching Alaska and staying there for the breeding season, she then departed Alaska on a non-stop flight from Western Alaska to New Zealand. This flight set a new known flight record of 11,680 kilometres.

To quietly watch these birds feed is also an amazing sight. They feed with rapid, precise jabs deep into the soft mud of the inter-tidal areas of our beaches. Beneath this layer of incredibly sticky mud lay a treasure trove of molluscs , worms and small crustaceans. The tip of a Godwits' bill is sensitive and can detect minute movements within the murky depths of the mud, over the course of a feeding and 'fattening' season the tip of the bill of many birds shows signs of wear; as they are steadily ground down over months of continuous feeding.

This species, as well as many other migratory waders, face enormous pressures as they continue to struggle to find space, resources and sanctuary today. Here in Australia, many of our 'recreational' pursuits, such a fishing, crabbing, driving on beaches (???) and the walking of dogs 'off of the leash',  are potentially threatening to the flocks of waders that rely on our tidal mudflats for survival. The ability to feed undisturbed is critical to species, such as Bar-tailed Godwit, in making a successful return flight to their breeding grounds in Scandinavia, Alaska and Northern Asia. Bar-tailed Godwits have been known to double their body weight in the final month of feeding before departing Australian shores to begin their continuous northward flight.

I feel that if many Australian beach users were educated about the many other pressures faced by these birds in areas, such as the Yellow Sea in China, perhaps we could find it in our hearts to give them a little more space and respect their right to continue to feed and roost without disturbance as they have done for many, many years.

 

Viva La Barwit.

"PIED OY, MATE!..."

It has been a few months since my last post. I have still managed to get out birding at least once every 3 weeks but a recent computer virus deleted the bulk of my archive of photographs taken between May and August, including some nice photos of a pair of Whimbrel in company with 8 Eastern Curlew at Thompson Beach. Dang! These things happen - if anyone out there has a sure-fire way to retrieve these 'lost' files, please drop me a line. It took a good day or two to get over the disappointment of losing 400+ pictures.

Well, onto brighter news. Late Winter has proven to be quiet around the northern shores of Adelaide. I journeyed out to Thompson Beach on high tide this morning to scout for any recent arrivals from north of the Equator. I was treated to a small number of post-breeding, recently-landed Curlew Sandpiper feeding frenetically on the claypans just north of town. Their small posse was flanked by 200+ Red-necked Stint, a big jump in numbers since my last visit three weeks ago. In the same area a group of 16 Double-banded Plover were keeping a low profile among the dead Samphire cover in the middle of the shallow water.

With so few waders about I turned my attention to some of the birds I usually scurry past on my way to look for other things deemed more 'exotic'. It was nice to slow the pace of travel for a morning, instead of marching about madly like an ape trying to shift a large suppository, I took the time to sit and observe, note and photograph.

It was a nice change to casually observe the behaviour of a few of the more common birds found on shore, such as the Great Egret, Crested Tern, Silver Gull and Pied Oystercatcher. In my new-found 'zen' state I was treated to a few special moments of what I call 'birding serendipity'.

Whilst scanning a large group of Crested and Caspian Tern I was lucky to find a group of 3 Fairy Tern almost obscured by rocks and larger birds. Patience and quiet observation pays off. Seeing these delicate and graceful little birds makes any day out a great day out - considering their current conservation status is currently listed as 'vulnerable' according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). I hope that I may continue to stumble upon this species at this site for many more years to come.

The constant calling of a juvenile Crested Tern caught my attention and I was treated to a prolonged display of Avian paternal patience of the highest order. For close to 10 minutes I watched a young Crested Tern subject its parent to the Avian equivalent of 'pester power'. I shuddered with horror as I was momentarily transported back to similar feed time shenanigans around the dinner table with my very own squawking fledglings.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme...."

"I know you heard me....now GIMME!"

"Hey! Wait!...errr Mum, where are you going?"



"Mama?"

The final 'treat' of the day, and inspiration for the title of this here entry, came as I headed back toward the car at midday. A pair of Pied Oystercatchers gave me some sustained close views and a little more than I bargained for...

Not everyday you see that.



Until next time...

NATURE'S TINY GYMNAST...

The Striated Pardalote - greatly underrated and often elusive mini-champ of the Australian bush. Not usually a difficult species to track down; but given its preference for high foliar foraging, it can prove to be a hard bird to get 'eye to eye' with. I was lucky enough to have a close encounter with this species at Monarto Zoological Park on the eastern slopes of the Mount Lofty Range outside of Adelaide, SA. The many fine examples of low-slung Mallee that dominate the canopy of this site allow great opportunities to get close to this supercharged little bird. I was lucky enough to capture some of the many twists and turns these birds execute as they frenetically scoot through the upper reaches of trees in search of their meal of choice - Lerps.

 Lerps, the sugary coating that serves as protection for psyllid insect larvae, serve as the perfect high-octane fuel to power the 'never still' Pardalote family. Given the right habitat, you'll often hear the tell-tale 'flicking' sound of a tiny, purpose-built bill as it pecks methodically to liberate many a Lerp from its leaf. If you take the time to follow the sound, you may be treated to an amazing display from one of nature's tiny gymnasts. Captivating stuff!

ADD IT TO THE PILE...

A somewhat dismissive title, but today marked my 19th visit to Thompson Beach for the year. In the twelve months since I returned to live in Adelaide permanently, this has been the one site that I have visited most frequently. I've seen a bunch of great birds out there over the last 12 months and today was no exception - I added another unexpected species to my site list. This is the beauty of having a 'patch' that you visit frequently, you see the seasonal changes in species diversity, you witness the flurry of breeding activity and you sometimes get to observe the oddballs who blow in to town and are gone the very next week, day or (on occasion) the next minute!

Today was one of those days where I found a bunch of those birding 'oddballs' skulking about the furthest limits of Thompson Beach. At the very limit of beach access on the northern side of town, there's a tidal inlet with some dense stands of remnant Mangrove lining the banks. It looks like anything could be lurking about in there, well...almost anything. So, in recent visits I've made a concerted effort to spend more time in there trying to turn up something new for the site list. Today it paid off, out lurking about a small clump of regenerating Mangrove I found 4 Banded Lapwings. Not a new sighting for me but seeing them at a distance of 100 metres with the naked eye really got my heart pumping. Could it be? Really?

Banded Lapwing Vanellus tricolor

Well, the excitement subsided once I had to nut-out how to get a decent picture of these somewhat nervous birds. The more I waddled toward them, the more noise they made. Eventually one took flight with all of the requisite 'kekking' reserved for a sunburned, fumbling intruder like me. Then the alarm calls of the first bird 'alarmed' the other three and they made off for more relaxing digs. Not before serenading me with a characteristic Lapwing cacophony and giving my ears a thorough arse-kekking!

The other thing I love about visiting the same site over time is that you really get a more intimate understanding of some birds that other people may dismiss as being too common, too plain or too difficult to get a good view of.  For instance, I love being so engrossed in scoping and counting other waders only to eventually rest my eyes and realise I am almost surrounded by Red-necked Stints busily feeding about my feet. The beauty about this species is once you start looking for them you realise how many of them are spread over an incredible area of beach. Waders can be notoriously nervous and hard to get close to but given the right tidal conditions and some patience; some species, such as the Red-necked Stint, will happily go about their business with you quite close by. I love to follow these little birds with the scope as they scuttle about the shore on a falling tide, getting a gut-full of tasty morsels is if it were their last meal. In the world of Waders, Stints sure seem to display more of a 'caffeinated' approach to feeding and getting about.

Red-necked Stint Calidris ruficollis

At the other end of what we will now refer to as the 'Wader Energy & Enthusiasm Spectrum' you have the 'blob' birds like the Greater and Lesser Sand Plovers. I've seen these perfectly pudgy little beach-goers a number of times at Thompson Beach but every time I see them they're doing the same thing.

Not too bloody much!

Wake up, fly to beach, sit amongst some rocks, squint at the sun, pose for some pictures - repeat.

"Hmmmmm......What to do?"

Well, that may be a terrible over-simplification of things but you get the picture - some Waders seem to be 'doing it' while others are busy 'thinking about doing it'. One of my favourite Waders is the elegant and beautifully coloured Pacific Golden Plover. But, like their Sand Plover cousins, it ain't high-energy scurrying and squawking that is keeping these guys so trim and elegant looking. Must be good genes? Again, these guys don't seem to do too much either. They've even flown between 6000-8000 kilometres on their annual migratory flight south to land on the same bloody patch of beach that they were glued to last season!

Amazing!

Pacific Golden Plover  Pluvialis fulva

So, as 2011 draws to a close, I turn my mind towards 2012 and wonder what will turn up at Thompson's in the coming 12 months? Will I blast on & beyond my current list of 84 species for Thompson Beach and crack 'the ton'? Will I be keeping a bird-blog in 12 months time? Who knows....

...one thing I am certain of though, no matter what happens to me, my lists and what's left of my spare time in 2012 - the Red-necked Stints will continue to attack some shoreline somewhere with all of the vigour of a caffeine-afflicted teenager at exam time!

Here's to those of you who have read this thing over the last 12 months, to the New Year and to Red-necked Stints everywhere.

Hurrah!

RETROACTION & DESSICATED DUCKS...

No, not about to start posting about the best birding hits of the 60's & 70's, just getting in gear to retroactively update the blog after a 2 month absence. A new chickadee in our nest has been the reason for the absence. Life is getting back to normal, slowly. Still, it only took me a week after the birth of our daughter to get out birding again. Not sure what that says about me? Alas, a few things to post as a 'catch-up' of sorts.

It's been a good couple of months with a few of Australia's harder to find birds turning up within easy reach of home. The most recent speccy species I've set my scope upon was a pair of Freckled Duck at Whites Road Wetland at Bolivar, just north of Adelaide. This site doesn't look like much as you blast past it, surrounded by heavy vehicles and peak hour traffic, at 90 kph along Pt. Wakefield Road, but it's easy to lose a couple of hours exploring the several ponds, storm water channels and salt pans to the west of this site.

Freckled Duck Stictonetta naevosa

The site is currently being excavated to remove a build up of silt from the larger ponds, this means blocked paths, limited access and constant noise. It also means a number of breeding birds are going to have to navigate the fraught path of parenthood with added stresses. Hmmmmm, sounds familiar. Not so funny when both Freckled Duck & Australian Painted Snipe have been reported there recently in good numbers. No sign of the Snipe on my trip though, perhaps they've fled the constant whine & rumble of diggers and tip-trucks and opted to breed elsewhere?

Freckled Duck Stictonetta naevosa

The Freckled Ducks took some finding too, reported initially from the largest, most-westerly pond on site, a pair were found on the backside of a mud-spit on the smaller easterly pond. It was one of those moments where I'd just about had my fill for the day, seen the cast of usual suspects and decided to head home without a view of the Frecklies or Snipe. Not to be sneezed at, some of the 'usual suspects' make for entertaining viewing and great photography. I was lucky enough to see one of two Intermediate Egret successfully pull a Skink from the high grass and proceed to swallow it in one gulp. I was also treated to observing Rainbow and Musk Lorikeets putting on some amusing displays as they hung about a number of nesting hollows around the ponds.




Intermediate Egret Egretta intermedia



Musk Lorikeet Glossopsitta concinna

As I made my way around the maze of barricaded, dead-end paths I was forced to cut across the back of the smaller pond. The margins of this pond are thickly lined with Eucalypts and provided me with a good deal of cover to set up my scope and camera in the hope of finding something exciting. As I was setting up I noticed the small clearing among the knee-high Rush was teeming with Spotted and Baillon's Crake. I had to be careful where I stepped as they seemed to be popping out from thick cover along the margin of the pond!

Baillon's Crake Porzana pusilla

Australian Spotted Crake Porzana fluminea

After spending a few moments trying to snap the Crakes as they darted about my feet I then set up the scope and panned about. Within moments I caught view of the distinctly 'peaked' head of a Freckled Duck and a few metres to the right I spied another. What great looking birds! I spent the best part of an hour observing them and they eventually took to the water, came up for a bit of a snoop and gave me the chance to fire off some decent shots.

Freckled Duck Dessicatus lamingtonus

As special as the moment was, having a pair of very obliging Freckled Ducks all to myself, I couldn't help thinking that these guys look somewhat like an overgrown, Duck-shaped Lamington.

'Dessicated Ducks'

I love it!