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.

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.

Last Post of 2019

I have been busy busy in the past few months, hence the lack of recent posts. It is a simple fact that those who do most have least time to post on their blogs.

It has been a very dry warm spring in Canberra after a long dry winter. This has resulted in fewer birds breeding and those that have bred have fewer young than in years of more amenable weather. All of the bush in south-east Australia is now either burnt or under threat of fire, millions of animals and plants are being destroyed and the small proportion of unburnt habitat left will be too small to harbour decent sizes of populations from which to restock the wider damaged area. It will take decades if not hundreds of years for the forests to regenerate and their whole ecosystems to recover.

So that is how 2019 is ending here.

I'll leave with a video of the rosellas in my garden enjoying the water I provide for them.

It's good to share and look after friends.

Western Isles textures

This is a follow on from the previous post, showing some detail of the islands of Lewis, Harris, Berneray and North Uist. I've not added any captions, the pictures speak for themselves. If you are inspired to go and visit the islands, please just go and explore, and find your own little details. It is much more fun than following selfie trails.

Find you own life.

   

   

 

 

   

 

     

   

   

   

   

A yellow flag to finish - a symbol of island summer.

 

Hebridean Reflections

Hebridean Marsh Orchid Dactylorhiza ebudensis

Butt of Lewis Lighthouse - the northern tip of the main Western Isles chain.

This is a set of photographs taken during a couple of weeks I took out in the Western Isles last summer. I have only now had time to go through the shots as I have been in the field non-stop since. Now that I am back in Canberra I am busy monitoring the Tawny Frogmouths in my study area. It is ironic that I seem to upload fewer posts when I am busy out studying wildlife.

The cobble beach at Dalbeg.

This is on the Atlantic shore of Lewis, the wild side, with big waves and a rough coastline.

Ruins of an old blackhouse at Dalbeg.

Dry stone walls, over a metre thick were infilled with turf to isolate the inhabitants from the wild Atlantic wind.

Marsh Marigolds growing by a stream - simple clean habitat for a wealth of wildlife.

The islands are still clean and rich in wildlife, such a pleasant refuge from so much worldwide human filth and destruction.

Sunset through the marram grass at Dalmor.

The only sounds were the soft sis of the wind through the grass and the distant sis of the waves rolling sand up and down the beach below.

Dun Carloway

What a site the iron age builders chose for this magnificent stronghold. Location, location, location.

The stone circle at Callanish.

Even older than Dun Carloway, these stones were erected in the Bronze Age. The site they stand on in the quiet western moors of Lewis is so atmospheric with views for miles and miles -  the more famous Stonehenge is surrounded by busy cross-country roads. Location, location.

Husinish beach at about 2300hr in summer.

This was once one the quietest beaches in Harris, but now it is covered by footprints. I went there late in the evening to avoid the heavy traffic out to the end of the twisting single track road during the day.

Loch Mharaig, north Harris.

A quite sheltered inlet of the larger Loch Seaforth. Who once lived in that cottage, was anyone ever born there? Island life has changed, has always changed and will always change.

Luskentyre - the most beautiful beach in the world?

I have been to this spot many a time and seen it in all types of weather; snow, wind, rain and sunshine, but even I had to stop and take one more photograph this day. The light was so stunning.

Sheep - on either side of a sheep gate.

Sheep are a vital part of life in the Western Isles, their wool is made into Harris Tweed. And the sheep gates are part of island life too. I will upload a set of photographs of the variety of sheep gates on my ByMyEy blog site soon.

Crossing the Sound of Harris on the wee ferry.

There are scores of islands in the Western Isles archipelago, so boats and ferries are a necessary part of island life. And a great way to see wildlife.

The islands in the sound are mostly low-lying.

Many of the islands are mere skerries, and a multitude of rocks hide below the surface. So, the ferry takes a long meandering course through the maze, providing me with great views of terns, gannets and guillemots fishing, seals lying up on the rocks and an otter scampering over a skerry.

The Harris hills from Berneray.

Open skies, seascapes and miles of open hill to roam over. A true wild place.

And the view south from the same spot - over the hills of the Uists.

These hills, moors and lochs provide habitat for thriving populations of golden eagles, white-tailed sea-eagles, hen harriers, short-eared owls, red-throated divers and otters.

Old cemetery on Berneray.

Generations of islanders' remains lie beneath these rows of lichen-clad headstones. A high wall surrounds the ground to keep the sheep out and the grassy sward is speckled with wild flowers. Skylarks fill the air.

The east beach on Berneray.

The beaches on the eastern, sheltered side, of the islands are calm, shallow-pitched and they form good habitat for waders, such as ringed plover, which nest up between the spring tide-line and the soft machair, the rich sand-based grasslands of the islands.

The folly at Scolpaig in north-west North Uist.

There were hooded crows nesting on the ramparts; lapwing, redshank, ringed plover, curlew and oystercatcher all had chicks hiding in the grasses and sedges, and a corncrake was calling from the iris beds.

Finally, the view from Al and Jo's garden.

Grey and common seals swim here and lie up on the rocks at low tide. Otters swim by too.

The trill of oystercatchers is the morning chorus.

Thank you Al and Jo for your wonderful hospitality.