Pacific koels in the house . . .

A male Pacific koel (right) feeding his mate a pandanus fruit, Christmas Day 2017, Casa da Ayre  

This summer has seen the migratory cuckoos appear in profusion, in much higher numbers than typical years.  The raucous shrieks and cries of Channel-billed cuckoos have been echoing throughout the neighbourhood for the last few weeks, and hawkish silhouettes of two or three pairs of large grey Channel-bills have become a familiar sight over-head.  The double-note of the Koels have kept pace, but they are much more secretive rarely choosing to appear in the open.  

We have a few mature Pandanus spp palms in the backyard, and they are fruiting at the moment.  They attract everything from fruit-bats to Blue-faced honey eaters.  A couple of days ago, a male Pacific koel appeared, screaming his "Koe-elllll" repeatedly, until the local Noisy miners and Magpie-larks teamed up to chase him away.  I was wondering where his secretive lady was, because he was being just so plain obvious and noisy,  clearly T R Y I N G  to goad the resident birds into chasing him, that there had to be a female nearby, just waiting for an opportunity to sneak into an unattended nest and deposit her deadly egg.  

Yesterday was Christmas day, and even the Koels decided to have a day of rest.  A male and female appeared in our backyard, and were quite relaxed.  The male spent quite a while feeding on the Pandanus spp fruit and fed the female numerous times with quite a flourish.  It seemed to be done with such exaggerated care and flourish, it had to be courtship or perhaps strengthening the pair-bond.  

Female Pacific koel, completely different to her rather spectacularly coloured mate.  

Male Pacific koel, enjoying the Pandanus sp fruits, Christmas Day 2017, Casa da Ayre

First cicadas for Casa da Ayre for Spring 2017

On Friday night, the shrill cries of cicadas echoed through the backyard for the first time in Spring 2017.  My torch revealed two fresh cicada shells that were not there earlier in the afternoon when I was tending the garden.  Summer is almost here. . .

Travelling through memories . . .

Close-up of a Mountain dragon (Rankinia diemensis)

Environmental shot of a Mountain dragon (Rankinia diemensis)

I had a very pleasant trip down memory lane with my Dad recently, visiting some very important places in the New England area.  We stopped off briefly in the Moonbi ranges, and I was delighted to watch the antics of the local Mountain dragons, Rankinia diemensis.  

These beautiful, energetic little dragons are found in the higher and cooler elevations of south eastern Australia and are Tasmania's only dragon.  They are extremely endearing because of the speed, alertness and intelligence that seems to burn behind their eyes.  There is an awareness and intelligence in these little dragons that is rarely seen in other reptiles, though I am undoubtedly thoroughly biased.  I have spent quite a while watching their delightful antics, head-bobbing, arm waving and suddenly squinting suspiciously at the sky for potential attack from birds.  They are just so alert and so bloody fast !  Though the Moonbi ranges are not part of the Hunter Valley, Mountain dragons are found in the Hunter, so I decided to include this observation on the blog.  

Mountain dragons are slightly similar in appearance to the far more common Jacky lizard, Amphibolurus muricatus which is found over much of eastern NSW at lower elevations.  An experienced herpetologist will pick the two species apart readily from a distance in the field through noticeable differences in head shape, but the casual observer will definitely struggle.  The easiest way to differentiate the species is the colour of the mouth - Mountain dragons have fleshy pink mouths while Jacky lizards have bright yellow mouths like a Bearded dragon.   

Environmental portrait of a Mountain dragon (Rankinia diemensis)

  

Nesting White-breasted woodswallows

White-breasted woodswallow, Artamus leucorynchus about to swap with its mate on their nest.

White-breasted woodswallow on the nest. 

Over the October long-weekend this year, the wife & I took the opportunity to spend some time sailing on Lake Macquarie.  We pulled up on what we jokingly call "Walter's Island", a small island to let the dogs run, swim and generally burn off some energy.  I couldn't help but notice a White-breasted woodswallow, (Artamus leucorynchus) paying a bit too much attention to the dogs' antics. 

I slowly scanned around at the trees nearby and sure enough, there was a rough ball of a nest with a tail hanging over the edge.  It was only about three and a half metres off the ground in the fork of one of the Casurina spp trees.  No wonder the Woodswallow was upset.   

We kept the dogs away from the area and watched with delight as the Woodswallows took their turn on the nest, changing every twenty or thirty minutes to hunt and feed.  I suspect they were incubating eggs as there were no begging cries audible at shift change 

I took a couple of representative images, and we left the area.  It was great to see, and just something the average person would rarely have an opportunity to observe.  The sighting has been logged with the Atlas of Living Australia.     

The Pacific koels are right behind them . . .

On my way home from work last night, the unmistakable call of the Pacific koel echoed around the carpark.  It was just after 17:30 pm, and there were two birds involved in the distinct calls.

Again, this is my first observation of the species in the lower Hunter Valley for Spring 2017, and only important as an anecdotal observation - they are migratory and arrive and disappear roughly the same time every year. 

See these posts from last year - "The Cuckoos have arrived" and "The Eastern koels have finally reached Belmont..." .  The Channel-bills arrived on 29th Sept 2017 and the Koels on 1st October 2016.  

It seems that Spring truly is a little early this year.  The Australian raven that I saw carrying nesting material back on 13th of July 2017 was the first indication.  I wonder if the early nesting from the Australian raven is a strategy to help minimise the risk of nest parasitism by the Channel-bills & Koels?  As always, more observations are needed before this might hypothesise a deliberate strategy.  One anecdote is merely one anecdote - nothing more.      

The Channel-billed cuckoos are back

A mate and I were fishing in my little boat off Carey Bay on Lake Macquarie on Sunday morning, 17th September 2017.  We both heard the unmistakable, shrill call of a Channel-billed cuckoo echoing around the bay.  It was 8:20 am and conditions were still and calm.  There was not a cloud in the sky, no wind, but we could not see the bird to get a definite, visual identification.  However their call is absolutely unmistakable.  This was my first record of Channel-bills for Spring 2017.     

Looking back over my records, last year I first heard them on Sunday 25th September - in very similar circumstances.  Again, weather is obviously changing, the days are slowly getting longer, and the cuckoos are back.  The Koels should be here too - I'll have to keep an ear open for them.  

I have recorded this sighting with the Atlas of Living Australia.     

New species for Casa da Ayre - Buff-banded rail

Something caught my eye in our backyard this morning - it was through the drapes and it wasn't a clear sighting, but it instantly caught my attention.  It looked like a small swamp-hen, but it clearly wasn't - the colour was all wrong.  

I opened the drapes and at ten metres range, watched a Buff-banded rail foraging across the backyard for about thirty seconds.  I left to grab my camera and of course it was gone when I returned, so there is no photographic evidence.  But I had a very clear view and 100% confident in my identification.  Hopefully I'll get a photo in the near future.      

  

Watchout Jon Snow - Spring is coming . . .

It's the very middle of the Australian Winter as I write this, 13th of July 2017, and I noticed the first harbinger of Spring 2017 on my morning commute today.

An Australian raven flew low over the Hillsborough Road overpass just ahead of my car, and I couldn't help but see it was carrying a large stick in it's bill.   The days are getting noticeably longer - Spring might be early again this year.  

Another endangered species sighting - Jabiru aka "Black-necked stork"

Jabiru, aka "Black-necked stork" near Maitland NSW 25th May 2017

It's been a while since I have posted, and that is because I tend to make observations about the unusual - rather than the every day.  Can you image how boring it would be to read some variation of "today I saw twenty eight Ring-necked turtle doves, forty one Sulphur crested cockatoos, fifty seven Indian miners, two European starlings, twelve Noisy miners, five Crested pigeons, seven Wood ducks, a Silver gull and three million Corellas . . . ." day after day after day.  Yawn. 

Well, here's something to get you excited !  On my way to work this morning I observed a (probably male) Jabiru.  This is an interesting sighting, because it's the first time I have ever seen a totally wild Jabiru in the Hunter Valley, and I was fortunate enough to have my camera with me at the time.  I believe the bird is male because the initial sighting was at 200 metres range, and through my camera his eye appeared brown, not the obvious bright yellow of the female.    

The Jabiru is secure in Australia - in fact when I lived in Darwin they were a pretty common sight on the flood plains.  However the further south you go, the progressively less common this species becomes.  Thus it is NOT listed under the Commonwealth Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 (EPBC Act), but it IS listed as Endangered under the NSW Threatened Species Conservation Act 1995.  

    

Jabiru being harassed by a Black-shouldered kite, near Maitland NSW.  

I have driven the back roads on my way to work as much as I possibly can to avoid the traffic, and because I love the unusual things you see in the out of the way places.  A few years back I saw Freckled ducks.  A few months ago I found a Peregrine falcon on the road, surrounded by unmistakable pink-coloured Galah feathers, just killed by a car ahead of me.  And now on one of my trips along the back roads, I have observed my first wild Jabiru in NSW.  Fantastic stuff !  If you look closely at the photos you will see the Jabiru was being shadowed by a Black-shouldered kite, a small elegant hawk.  The Kite shadowed the Jabiru at a respectful distance, never getting too close, but letting the larger bird know it was trespassing.  In the background you can see exactly WHY the Jabiru is now considered endangered in NSW - new McMansions built up right to the very edge of the flood plains the Jabiru requires to forage and breed.  From my time in the NT, it appears that Jabirus do not seem to like associating near humans - and they tended not to breed anywhere near humans.

If you'd like to know a bit more about them, have a look at these pages;

1. Black-necked stork - endangered species listing

2. Black-necked Stork - Hunter-Central Rivers: Distribution and vegetation associations

     

A bit of an aside - I call this species "Jabiru" for the same reason I call Blue wrens, Blue wrens and not "Blue fairy-wrens".  Simply because I have never met a normal person call a Blue wren a "Fairy-wren".  The birdos claim the Jabiru should be called "Black-necked stork", (or abbreviated to BNS) because its the only species of true stork found in Australia.  This is true that Jabirus are Australia's only stork, but the only people I have ever known to call this species a "BNS" are birdos, or "twitchers" as they like to call themselves.  

BNS is a stupid "common name" in my humble opinion because only twitchers use it and when you look at a Jabiru, their neck is the most impossibly glorious metallic blue-green you have ever seen in your life.  They shimmer like a vision in the sun!  The only time their neck is black is from great distance, or if it's very poor light.  Jabiru it shall always be for me.     

 

The Sounds of Autumn . . .

The glorious warbling carols of a Pied butcherbird made my heart soar this morning.  I have no idea why, but there are few things more likely to make me smile when I'm reading the newspaper over my morning coffee.  It's like the arrival of the Channel-billed cuckoos, the Dollarbirds and the Koels.  The seasons are ever-changing, and the first heralds of Autumn in my part of South-eastern Australia have arrived.    

Night of Nights . . .

Be still my pounding heart !  A truly magnificent adult Mixophyes iteratus

Amanda & I went for a drive in the bush on Friday night, cameras in hand to see what native animals we could find to photograph.  It turns out that after last week's adventure, wifey was really keen to get back out there.  

What a night it was.  The highlight was encountering a major breeding event for the endangered Giant barred frog, Mixophyes iteratus.  As mentioned in a previous past, this species was utterly devastated (presumably) by Chytrid fungus, and in all my years of working locally in the forests of the Hunter valley and Manning Valley, I'd only encountered ONE specimen.  Until Saturday 11th February that was when I found a second specimen in a completely new location.  

Well, I visited an unpublished site for M.iteratus that I know of, deep in the rainforest, from my time working with the Amphibian Research Group at the Uni of Newcastle.  It was a spectacular night, the stuff of pure fantasy, with Mixophyes iteratus calling all around us.  It was reminiscent of my trip with Mike Mahony to a location well to the north of Newcastle where there was roughly a kilometre of M.iteratus calling and echoing along the banks of a rainforest stream.

On Friday night, I actually stopped counting after 20 individuals.  They were literally everywhere.  I took a few representative images, taking great care not to touch or disturb the animals, and quickly left them to their business.  The last thing we were going to do was interfere with an endangered animal in any way, particularly when they were in the middle of a massive breeding event.  

Yesterday I discussed the event with one of my contacts in the Amphibian Research Group at the University of Newcastle, and he knew the species has definitely made a comeback.  But he was utterly shocked at the size of the breeding event we'd encountered.  Sounds like the old crew (and some new members) might be working on this species again soon !

Mixophyes iteratus

Very large female Mixophyes iteratus       

Great barred frog

Great barred frog, Mixophyes fasciolatus, lower Hunter valley, NSW, February 2017
Note the biting midges on this animals' back

The "Barred frogs" genus is a bit of a hodge-podge for common names, and while the scientific names are a mouthful at first, I always prefer the scientific names for this genus because it's easier to remember exactly who is who.  

Look at the posture of this animal - notice how his eyes are pulled down into his head?  This is their response to being illuminated by a torch beam.  It never ceases to amaze me how such a large frog will disappear when they pull their eyes in.  One moment they are sitting there in the open, eyes ablaze.  If you look away for a sec and shine your torch back, suddenly they've vanished into thin air.  But keep looking and your mind will process the scene and mysteriously the frog will eventually re-appear, in exactly the same place, looking like this.  It's a particularly clever adaptation to hide from people !    

This is the most common species of the Mixophyes genus in the lower Hunter Valley, the Great barred frog, Mixophyes fasciolatus.  I didn't realise at the time, but this animal had some sort of midge biting it's back.  This is of particular interest because of the possibility for transmission of the Chytrid fungus.  

I can't help but wonder if this might be a potential pathway the fungus used to spread so far and wide, and devastate vulnerable populations so rapidly.  In all my many decades of herpetology, I cannot remember seeing many photos of frogs with biting midges like I have seen recently.

This might be very easily explained because until frogs populations were endangered globally, many herpetologists considered frogs pretty boring, and were particularly interested in catching them for use as food for their elapid snakes, rather than photographing them.  For example, Litoria flavipunctata was often collected to feed to copperheads and tiger snakes at Mother of Ducks lagoon back in the 70's and 80's by local herpetologists. It wasn't until they had vanished without trace that people realised exactly how special they were, and what an important species we've lost.    

Most herpetologists that I knew didn't bother spending much time trying to photograph frogs, and the availability of cheap, extremely high quality camera gear just wasn't there.  I certainly would not take my gear out on rainy nights when frogs were most active for fear of damaging my equipment.

The risk of accidental transmission by people handling frogs is very real (and why I will never touch a frog I'm photographing these days), but there has to be a mechanism to spread such a virulent pathogen so quickly and widely.  A biting midge might very well be the mechanism that spread the fungus so widely so quickly, getting blown between drainage systems.  An analogue would be Ross river fever, Barmah Forest virus etc for people.  Population booms in mosquitoes result in massive outbreaks in people as the mosquitoes get blown to other areas.     

Another Great barred frog, Mixophyes fasciolatus, lower Hunter valley, NSW, February 2017
Note this animal also has biting midges on it's throat and back

Great barred frog, Mixophyes fasciolatus, lower Hunter valley, NSW, February 2017
Same animal as photo above. Note this animal also has biting midges on it's throat and back

Greater Glider

Greater glider, Petauroides volans

Amanda & I were driving in Hunter valley forest last night when we saw a pair of eyes staring back at us from the top of a very large Eucalyptus sp tree.  This is a Greater glider,  which is essentially a Sugar glider that has been abusing steroids.  They are a truly majestic animal, the size of a large cat, with about 70 cm of long bushy tail.       

     

Brown tree snake

Love the eyes on this beautiful species.   

With the heat wave that we've been experiencing of late, I had a feeling that there would be some interesting animals active as soon as it cooled off a little.  We went for a drive in the bush last night and found quite a few fascinating animals out and about.  

This lovely Brown tree snake (Boiga irregularis) is one of my favourite snakes.  They are venomous, though not considered very toxic, and "back-fanged" which some people think means they can't readily envenomate humans.  Sometimes Brown tree snakes can be quite defensive if startled or harassed.  This chap was extremely laid back indeed, and didn't seem to mind me taking a few quick shots as he crossed the road.  As soon as I hit him with the light he froze in place, motionless, hoping I couldn't see him.  This allowed me to get very close and take a few reasonable images of his face.  

I love those huge, doll-like eyes - and a feature that you can't see in the photos - they have a square edge on their ventral scales which is a huge advantage for an animal that lives in trees and on cliff faces.  Beautifully adapted for nocturnal life, and lightly built - ideal for catching birds, bats, frogs, mice etc.  They have been accidentally introduced into Guam where they are a terrible pest, but they evolved here and are 100% native - and an essential part of our environment.     

Brown tree snake Boiga irregularis, foraging on a wet night.  

    

Brown tree snake Boiga irregularis,
He is NOT poised to strike, just frozen motionless, hoping that I can't see him.

A new location for the critically endangered Giant barred river frog, Mixophyes iteratus

Giant barred river frog, Mixophyes iteratus 

The "Great barred Frogs" really copped a pounding when the Chytrid fungus made it's presence known in Australia.  The genus is known as "Mixophyes" and there are three species found in the Hunter valley; M.balbus, M.fasciolatus, and M.iteratus.  Only M.fasciolatus survived the onslaught and retained a shadow of their former numbers.  The other two declined in the Hunter valley to the point where we feared they were lost forever.

I have used the scientific names as the "common names" are pretty useless for this species group.  How many permutations of Giant barred river frog, Great barred river frog and "Stuttering river frog" can you distinguish between and remember?  We serious herpetologists simply call them "iteratus", "fass" and "balbus".  

I will never forget visiting a State Forest well to the north of here with legendary frog expert, Dr Michael Mahony.  It was mid-1990's and we spent a week experiencing evenings of unbelievable herpetological joy - a certain stream, deep within the rainforest that echoed all night long with the rich and extremely deep and guttural calls of Mixophyes iteratus.  I will never forget that week as long as I live, and the sound of the calls of hundreds of these massive frogs echoing through the rainforest.  Waaark, Waaark, Waaark, Waaark, Waaark, Waaark, followed by that series of unique trills.  I am getting shivers down my spine as I write this.  

A particularly memorable aspect of this trip was our first encounter with a most unusual prey item.  We collected a small number of specimens under the extremely strict terms of Mike's scientific research licence.  One frog I personally caught had a couple of strange marks on it's throat - I bagged it and showed it to Mike.  We were both staring at this odd looking specimen when without warning it regurgitated an extremely angry Northern tree funnelweb spider ! ! ! !  We were both utterly gobsmacked.  The frog displayed no ill effects whatsoever and was still very alert and happy the next morning.  Mike & I were a bit taken a-back & relieved that neither of us were bitten by the spider.  

Although we laughed about it at the time, and thought that it was truly a one-off near-miss, it turned out to be a far from once in a lifetime occurrence.  A decade later, a very good friend of mine had exactly the same thing happen while working on this species at the same location with Mike.  Only this time, John didn't see the frog regurgitate the spider in the bag and was actually bitten by an extremely, extremely angry Northern tree funnelweb through the bag.  Make no mistake, this was a life and death situation, with a hideously venomous spider.  After a truly harrowing experience, it turned out to be a dry bite.  The spider had either spent all of its venom in the frog, or the plastic bag prevented a medically important dose of venom reaching John's fingers.  Phew ! 

Back to the local situation.  M.iteratus is well known from the State forests of the Hunter valley.  However, it's population was devastated by Chytrid.  Look up "Chytridiomycosis" if you'd like a taste of how utterly destructive this pathogen has been.  Despite spending many, many hours in local prime habitat during ideal weather patterns for the best part of a decade, I found only one specimen of M.iteratus in all that time.  I found maybe twenty specimens of M.balbus over that same period.  I found literally several hundred M.fasciolatus per year over that time.  The quiet consensus among professional herpetologists was that M.iteratus was locally extinct, and M.balbus was in dire straights.  It painted my experiences in the northern forests with Mike in their true light.  That location was the ONLY place on the entire planet where this animal was still found.  It was considered to be extinct in ALL of it's other known range . . .

We found a very large pregnant female specimen of M.iteratus last year.  It was in a location that was well-known for the species, so I made a record in my field journal and took a metric ton of photographs.  Last Saturday night, during the heatwave conditions, my wife & I found a male specimen in a completely new location.  We took a couple of voucher photos to enable a professional to be confident of our identification, took a GPS reading and moved on, smiling from ear to ear.  We are so happy this species is slowly clawing it's way back from the tottering edge of near extinction.                                          

Portrait of a Lesueur's tree frog

Male Lesueur's tree frog, Watagan state forest, 11th February 2017   

Lesueur's tree frogs are quite a common species throughout the Hunter Valley, and easily found on the banks of rocky streams in wetter forests.  They are easily found as their eye-shine is a give-away in the beam of a headtorch, and typically they sit right out in the open, on exposed rock calling beside the streams.

They are an intriguing animal as during the day, they are a fairly uniform light tan colour with some slightly darker brown markings.  During the breeding season (the summer months), the males change at night into the most wonderful bright lemon colour, which makes identifying the sexes a very simple affair.  The females remain the normal, mostly beige colour, and are usually much larger in size.

My first job as a graduate from Uni, I had the most remarkable good fortune to work for the Amphibian Research Group at the University of Newcastle.  I spent many many many blissful hours watching this species in the field, and the males can be particularly active, wrestling and tussling with each other when a female arrives at the stream.  

Male Lesueur's tree frog, Watagan state forest, 11th February 2017 

Another nocturnal elapid . . .

Bandy Bandy - a most unusual snake, Watagan State Forest, NSW 

Bandy bandy's are an enigmatic little beast that seem to turn up at odd times in unpredictable places.  Allegedly they specialise in eating blind snakes, but I have not kept this species so cannot say for sure.  Many, many, many years ago, way back in the last millennium, a friend had an absolutely massive bandy bandy, about one metre in length.  He found it in Lightning Ridge, NSW, and kept it for many years.  It quite happily ate pink mice.  

On average I bump into two or three per year while I'm out in the bush, and the vast majority are between 10cm - 50cm in length, and around the thickness of the pinkie finger on my left hand to perhaps as thick as the index finger on my right hand.  The biggest specimen I have observed was almost one metre in length, and quite thick - perhaps as thick as my right thumb.  

I could honestly not predict when they are likely to appear or the environment I'll find them in.  They seem to just appear without any discernible pattern where you find them - I have encountered them in everything from littoral rainforest, open woodland dominated by Callitris spp & Eucalyptus spp, brigalow scrub, throughout the whole NSW Central West (where it snows every winter) and even behind the sand dunes on a local beach here in Newcastle.  

In short, these are a tough, adaptable little beast, and have a generally very laid back approach to life, though being an elapid snake, they are venomous and you'd never handle one unless you had to.  The reason I believe this is the Eastern small-eyed snake.  

When I was a young fellow, Small-eyed snakes were regarded as "venomous but harmless" in most of the books. They'd bite if you were silly enough to handle them carelessly, but no-one paid any attention to it.  Right up until a fellow died of rhabdomylosis (basically complications involving massive muscle destruction overloading the kidneys with toxins associated with tissue death). Suddenly they are now classified as "dangerously venomous" and sensible herpetologists treat them with respect.  To me, Bandy bandys look too much like an upmarket version of an Eastern small eyed snake.  Take the bands away & they look way too much like an Eastern small eyed snake for comfort.                

This little chappie was crossing the road late on Saturday night, and I stopped for a couple of quick shots.  He was only about 35 - 40 cm in total length and extremely active, due to the extreme weather we endured this last weekend.  Notice how the bands at the nose have the characteristic, distinctive yellow tinge while the rest of the bands are all black & white?     

Bandy Bandy, Watagan State Forest Saturday 11th February 2017

Nocturnally foraging elapid snakes

A beautiful Red-bellied black snake nocturnally foraging, 12th February 2017   

With all of the unusually warm conditions we are experiencing in the Hunter Valley at the moment, many humans are restricting their movements during the daytime to avoid the heat.  It was quite strange on the roads this weekend; there were so few cars around.  As the mercury climbed to the mid 40 degree range, most sensible people stayed directly in front of their air conditioner.   

After a sweltering Saturday, my wife and I decided to take advantage of the situation, and grabbed our cameras and went bush to see what animals were active.  We were not disappointed.  

It was almost 22:00 hrs when we visited one of my favourite firedams.  It was a bit strange because the dam was silent, which was most definitely NOT normal. The moon was full, which often dampens frog activity, I presume because they are much more visible to predators.  Still, it wasn't normal.  There should have been frogs calling, perhaps a bit more subdued than normal, despite the relatively bright conditions.  

I had a feeling what the reason was, and I slowly panned my head torch around the small firedam.  Sure enough, there was a small (~4.5 - 5 ft) adult Red-bellied black snake methodically foraging amongst the leaf litter and vegetation in the dam.  As I continued to pan slowly around, I could see an adult Eastern water skink, which will also gleefully eat small frogs, and is a very suitable meal for a Red-bellied black snake.  There was also the usual eye shine from ten or so adult Striped-marsh frogs, a very common species at this location.  

So just like people, many animals will also switch their activity patterns during periods of extreme weather.  Large, venomous snakes such as Red-bellied black snakes and Eastern brown snakes are extremely like to become nocturnal during these times too.        

        

The secretive world of hatchling skinks

Hatchling Penny lizard No 1, 
Casa da Ayre, Belmont, NSW, Australia, 8th January 2017.   

The engine revved wildly before settling to a steady throb as the throttle was pushed from "Start" to "Mow". Two-stroke exhaust stung my nostrils and my dogs ran away, peering out at me from their kennel. I smiled with pride as my backyard transitioned from grass to lawn.  I had to stop numerous times to let minuscule hatchling Penny lizards scamper out of the way.  They are in massive abundance at the moment, and once I was finished mowing, I took a couple of shots of three individual skinks to show the colour variation and just how small they really are.     

Hatchling Penny lizard No 2, with $2 coin for scale. 
Casa da Ayre, Belmont, NSW, Australia, 8th January 2017.  

Close-up of hatchling Penny lizard No 2. 
Casa da Ayre, Belmont, NSW, Australia, 8th January 2017.   

When you are as small and defenseless as a hatchling skink, such as these Penny lizards, Lampropholis delicata, you are on the menu for almost anything.  Predatory insects, spiders, frogs, larger lizards, snakes, birds, marsupial mice, cats - pretty much anything that can fit them in their mouths.  Their main defense seem to be crypsis, because as long as they do not move, they can be very hard to see.  Anecdotally, they seem to be most prevalent in leaf litter and thick grasses - the vibration and noise of the lawn mower flushed thirty or more in our little backyard this morning. 

This is another strategy - the sudden abundance seems to be very co-ordinated this year.  I've never really taken much notice before, but it would be fascinating to investigate if the hatching is timed to overwhelm the predators with sheer numbers of tiny hatchling skinks. Penny lizards are well-known to use communal nests; many females deposit their eggs in the same spot, under a brick or piece of log or timber resting on the ground. If they all hatch at the same time, undoubtedly many will be eaten by predators.  But hopefully not all will be eaten as their predators might be "stuffed-to-the-gills" and simply cannot fit another one in.  

The final line of defense for this species is the ability to shed their tail - properly referred to as autotomy.  The tail will be dropped very readily by hatchling Penny lizards, and will twitch madly for thirty seconds or so, hopefully allowing the skink to escape.  The tail will regenerate eventually, but will never be perfect again.  There will always be a colour and shape difference readily observable in the new tail.     

Close-up of hatchling Penny lizard No 3. 
Casa da Ayre, Belmont, NSW, Australia, 8th January 2017.   

         

The King parrots are back too

A King parrot keeps watch while his mate feeds on the ground. 

King parrot & Rainbow lorrikeets feeding on fallen sunflower heads and spilled seed. 

I breakfasted alfresco-style on the rear verandah this morning, and enjoyed the parade of constantly squabbling Rainbow lorrikeets.  A pair of King parrots soon arrived, aloof and silent rather than adding to the rioting of the Rainbows.  The King parrots are a total contrast to the Rainbows. They are far more cautious, and one usually keeps watch while the other feeds.    

Getting trained by the wildlife . . .

Our friendly Sulphur-crested cockatoo demanding sunflower seeds

One of the great things about Casa da Ayre is our (mostly) native wildlife.  Over the years they have become so used to us that we can usually get very close.    

There was a bit of a raucous shrieking coming from the backyard late on Thursday afternoon.  Our friendly neighbourhood Sulphur crested cockatoo had dropped by and very clearly let me know there wasn't enough sunflower seed in the feeder for his liking.  

Amanda added seed to the feeder 

Happy cocky ! 

How nice is it to be so well accepted by the local wildlife that they are now training us to feed them on demand !   

  

Penny lizards hatchlings

I have always had a very soft spot for "Penny lizards", and watching them transports me back to the happy days of my childhood.  My sister and I used to spend hours observing and catching them at my Grandparents house in Kotara.  Happy days indeed.    

"Penny lizards" are known by many different common names, many of which seemed to be ridiculously contrived and appear in the literature from the 1990's onward.  I will always use the common name "Penny lizard" because it is by far the most apt; they are almost exactly the shade of a old, well-used Australian penny.  Without doubt, Penny lizards are the most commonly observed skinks in the lower Hunter valley, and are prolific throughout the region.  They are actually two species; Lampropholis guichenoti and Lampropholis delicata.  To the layman, they are practically indistinguishable.  We are fortunate to have both species at Casa da Ayre.
 
We returned from our Christmas holidays on Monday, and to my complete delight, there have been hatchling "Penny lizards" seemingly under every piece of ground material, from the hose, to the dog's waterbowl.  I was watching the antics of a couple of them in the backyard while I was enjoying my lunch today.  Happy days are here again.           

Late afternoon visitor

Late afternoon visitor to the bird feeder, 3rd January 2017.  

We've just returned from Christmas holidays to find our dim-witted Spotted turtle-doves are back, dropping nesting material all over the carport.

On a happier note, the sunflowers in the back garden are now at full height, and many have bloomed.  Quite a few of the most mature have had their seed heads chewed off, and we were intrigued to see who the culprits were.  In recent years we've had adult King parrots drop by to sample our sunflowers - they will not visit the feeder for some reason but will munch the seed heads on the growing sunflowers with alacrity.

Sulphur crested cockatoo caught in the act, munching sunflower seed heads.
iPhone photo courtesy Amanda Ayre, January 2017. 

We were happy to find our Sulphur crested cockatoo is back, and he promptly chewed off another seed head before hopping onto the bird feeder for a quick portrait.  It's strange how our dogs completely ignore such a large bird.
          

And they're b-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ck . . . Dumb and Dumberer

Dumb and Dumberer - Caught in the act !  

I have mentioned we've been having issues with a pair of Spotted turtle-doves attempting to nest on a light in our carport back on 15th November 2016.  It had been going on for several weeks at the time of writing, and had been so annoying that we resorted to blocking the space to physically prevent the birds gaining access.  This worked, and the doves appeared to have focused their efforts elsewhere within a few days.   

My wife & I have been away for our Christmas holidays, and have just returned home.  We'd removed the material from the top of the light before we left, as it looked pretty ugly, and the Spotted turtle-doves had well-and-truly lost interest within a couple of days of blocking the space above the light.  Or so it seemed.  

It's been approximately seven weeks and they are back, trying to build a nest in the same place on top of the fluorescent light.  For the same result - nesting material falls off almost as quickly as they place it.   Le sigh . . .