Epicormic growth
Epicormic growth is the sprouting of leaves from branches and the main stems of trees.
After a year of dry heat, fire and smoke in the south east of Australia the trees are coming back to life. Here in the heart of Canberra, on Black Mountain right next to the city centre, the re-growth is now spectacular in the wetter autumn months. The main tree species are Scribbly Gum Eucalytus haemastoma and Red Stringy bark E. machrorhynca.
The shoots are mostly a rich crimson colour when they first emerge, then they grow into the more expected lush green.
The first re-growth tends to come out around the thin brances in the crown of the trees and the trunks are relatively bare, reminiscent of a Gustav Klimt painting.
Or perhaps 'Blue Poles' by Jackson Pollock, which hangs a few kilometres away, across the lake in the National Gallery of Australia.
It won't take long for these trees to recover from the drought, but for now most of the life is in the canopy, so always remember to look up when out for a walk. Sometimes, that is where it is all happening.
Thursday, 9 April 2020
Monday, 6 April 2020
Frogmouth seeking protection?
This Tawny Frogmouth flew into the garden yesterday, to escape from a group of Pied Currawongs and Magpies that were chasing it.
I was tidying up the back garden when I heard a commotion from the front drive. I looked up and a frogmouth came flying over the gate, zoomed past me at waist height and landed on the shed roof a few metres away. In hot pursuit were several currawongs and magpies, all scolding and swooping in full alarm. They had obviously mistaken the frogmouth for an owl, which they resemble but are not related to, and which they would consider to be a potential predator.
I immediately shooed away the currawongs and magpies. While the frogmouth watched them, and me, but he was more afraid of the birds than of me. Once the attackers had all retreated to their various patches in neighbouring gardens, the frogmouth relaxed and flitted into a tree overhanging the shed.
I believe that he had deliberately flown to be near me as he knew the other birds would be less likely to attack him when close to me. I have witnessed this behaviour before. Once with a Red Grouse that dived into heather a few metres in front of me on a hillside in the Scotish Highlands. A Golden Eagle came swooping over my head seconds later and hung on the air above me looking for the grouse. The second ocassion was when a Rock Ptarmigan dived into rocks a few metres from me, on another hill in the HIghlands, as a Peregrine dived then pulled out at the last second. Both birds stayed motionless while the raptors were above, and would not move when I approached them. Both held themselves hugged cloe to the ground, deep in cover. All three birds seemed to have used me as cover, perhaps in judgment of me being the lesser of the risks of predation. They probably all knew that an eagle or peregrine on their tail could very likely be a cause of their death, or in the case of the frogmouth, an angry mob could also have killed him.
I refer to the frogmouth as 'he' because I could readily recognise it as such by his size and colouring, the females are smaller with more rufous in their plumage. He was probably a young bird from last year's breeding season. Autumn is when the young birds leave their natal territory and family groups, to go in search of a territory of their own, and a partner, ready for next year's breeding season.
A difficult time in their lives for young birds of all species.
This Tawny Frogmouth flew into the garden yesterday, to escape from a group of Pied Currawongs and Magpies that were chasing it.
I was tidying up the back garden when I heard a commotion from the front drive. I looked up and a frogmouth came flying over the gate, zoomed past me at waist height and landed on the shed roof a few metres away. In hot pursuit were several currawongs and magpies, all scolding and swooping in full alarm. They had obviously mistaken the frogmouth for an owl, which they resemble but are not related to, and which they would consider to be a potential predator.
I immediately shooed away the currawongs and magpies. While the frogmouth watched them, and me, but he was more afraid of the birds than of me. Once the attackers had all retreated to their various patches in neighbouring gardens, the frogmouth relaxed and flitted into a tree overhanging the shed.
I believe that he had deliberately flown to be near me as he knew the other birds would be less likely to attack him when close to me. I have witnessed this behaviour before. Once with a Red Grouse that dived into heather a few metres in front of me on a hillside in the Scotish Highlands. A Golden Eagle came swooping over my head seconds later and hung on the air above me looking for the grouse. The second ocassion was when a Rock Ptarmigan dived into rocks a few metres from me, on another hill in the HIghlands, as a Peregrine dived then pulled out at the last second. Both birds stayed motionless while the raptors were above, and would not move when I approached them. Both held themselves hugged cloe to the ground, deep in cover. All three birds seemed to have used me as cover, perhaps in judgment of me being the lesser of the risks of predation. They probably all knew that an eagle or peregrine on their tail could very likely be a cause of their death, or in the case of the frogmouth, an angry mob could also have killed him.
I refer to the frogmouth as 'he' because I could readily recognise it as such by his size and colouring, the females are smaller with more rufous in their plumage. He was probably a young bird from last year's breeding season. Autumn is when the young birds leave their natal territory and family groups, to go in search of a territory of their own, and a partner, ready for next year's breeding season.
A difficult time in their lives for young birds of all species.
Thursday, 2 April 2020
Wedge-tailed Eagles and Red Fox
When out for an essential covid-19-era exercise walk yesterday I had a wonderful birding experience.
I heard a couple of ravens giving alarm calls which I recognised to be their call for eagle. I looked up but could not see anything, then from really high in the sky I saw a dot growing larger. It grew and grew and all the time I knew what it was, so just watched. Then a second bird materialised and both were diving, seemingly towards me. They dropped their feet and pulled their wings back. Then wham, the first bird, the adult male, struck at something in the long grass, 106m downhill from me. I measured the distance afterwards. He missed and a Red Fox jumped away, but before it could correct its balance the second bird, the female, slammed into it, or rather, as I identified later, a dead rabbit that the fox had been standing over. I never pulled my camera out during the dive and strike, so the first shots are as above, showing the eagle mantling over the rabbit as the fox stands beside it. These are not good photographs, all I could grab with a small lens fitted.
The male came back around and landed beside the female for a while, and the fox ran to cover below a sapling. All this time the ravens and magpies were giving the eagles a hard time.
The male flew up into the lower branches of nearby trees, and the female lifted the rabbit into the shade of a tree to begin eating it. The fox watched for a few minutes then slipped away.
The female dined on the rabbit for about 40 minutes. The male kept watch from the branches all that time, although he never came down to share the meal.
Meanwhile, their juvenile from last year's breeding season came over, calling, begging for a share of the food.
The youngster landed in a nearby tree, and kept giving occassional begging calls. Eventually, the female stopped eating and lifted the rabbit onto a stump.
Then she flew over and dropped the rabbit below the youngster, before landing in the same tree as it was perched in. The juvenile kept calling, as if asking the parent to deliver the food directly. That was not happening, so it dropped to the ground and ate the rest of the rabbit itself.
As can be seen by the wires in this shot, this all happend on the edge of suburbia in Canberra, where Wedge-talied Eagles are common.
She watched over the young bird while it ate. Perched on a roadside post.
When all was over, the two birds slipped out of the trees and headed away with an escort of ravens. I don't know where the adult male had gone meantime.
All that was left at the scene were a few fluffs of rabbit (right) and eagle (left) down.
And a covert feather from the eagle's wing.
I heard a couple of ravens giving alarm calls which I recognised to be their call for eagle. I looked up but could not see anything, then from really high in the sky I saw a dot growing larger. It grew and grew and all the time I knew what it was, so just watched. Then a second bird materialised and both were diving, seemingly towards me. They dropped their feet and pulled their wings back. Then wham, the first bird, the adult male, struck at something in the long grass, 106m downhill from me. I measured the distance afterwards. He missed and a Red Fox jumped away, but before it could correct its balance the second bird, the female, slammed into it, or rather, as I identified later, a dead rabbit that the fox had been standing over. I never pulled my camera out during the dive and strike, so the first shots are as above, showing the eagle mantling over the rabbit as the fox stands beside it. These are not good photographs, all I could grab with a small lens fitted.
The male came back around and landed beside the female for a while, and the fox ran to cover below a sapling. All this time the ravens and magpies were giving the eagles a hard time.
The female dined on the rabbit for about 40 minutes. The male kept watch from the branches all that time, although he never came down to share the meal.
Meanwhile, their juvenile from last year's breeding season came over, calling, begging for a share of the food.
Then she flew over and dropped the rabbit below the youngster, before landing in the same tree as it was perched in. The juvenile kept calling, as if asking the parent to deliver the food directly. That was not happening, so it dropped to the ground and ate the rest of the rabbit itself.
As can be seen by the wires in this shot, this all happend on the edge of suburbia in Canberra, where Wedge-talied Eagles are common.
She watched over the young bird while it ate. Perched on a roadside post.
When all was over, the two birds slipped out of the trees and headed away with an escort of ravens. I don't know where the adult male had gone meantime.
All that was left at the scene were a few fluffs of rabbit (right) and eagle (left) down.
And a covert feather from the eagle's wing.