It's great to read all the glowing reports coming in from the
Capertee Valley lately. Now, after last week's rain and with the
White Box in flower, it's looking as good as ever. Some of the trees
are literally swarming with birds.
I was down there as well on Sunday but it wasn't really a birding
trip; I spent the whole day on my land, preparing a floor for a small
shed to house the new composting toilet. I arrived at a chilly dawn
to find a startled mob of kangaroos bounding away from the trees I
recently planted near the front gate. The leaves of these tender
young ironbarks were covered in icicles; not an easy start in life
for them. For those who are interested, of the 46 I planted just over
a month ago, two have died and 4 have been severely munched by the
'roos. The rest look healthy having received some very welcome
rainfall last week. The soil is moist all the way down and the dams
are full. But I'm mystified by the kangaroos' habit of nibbling the
cardboard tree guards, sometimes pulling them right off, yet hardly
touching most of the plants themselves.
Anyway, the day turned into a beautiful sunny winter's day and I set
to work on my task of levelling a patch of ground, accompanied by the
calls of a legion of nectarivores. Eleven honeyeater species as well
as Little Lorikeets, coming and going all day long, and I didn't have
to walk anywhere, they all came to me (well, to the blossom, lerps
and water actually). White-plumed, Yellow-tufted, Fuscous, Striped,
Yellow-faced, Black-chinned and Brown-headed were there, but most
noticeable of all were great flocks of White-naped Honeyeaters
wheeling around.
A White-throated Gerygone gave a beautiful burst of song. All the
other usual birds were there but with an accelerated tempo of
activity. Babblers and Shrike-tits, Diamond Firetails and
Double-bars, Restless Flycatchers, Dusky Woodswallows, Mistletoebirds
zipping around, and a very loud Olive-backed Oriole making a call
which sounded like a cranky Grey Butcherbird, not its more well-known
mellow call. Some species are already breeding, or at least thinking
about it. A female Red-rumped Parrot peered out of a hole in a branch
while her mate stood watch outside, and Wood Ducks were up in trees
inspecting hollows. A pair of Spotted Pardalotes were taking a great
interest in what I was doing, repeatedly coming down to look at the
freshly dug earth and picking up little strands of bark, unconcerned
by my presence just two metres away. A lyrebird sang from up the hill.
A strange raptor shape had me puzzled momentarily until I realised it
was a Wedge-tailed Eagle without a tail. Later in the day a Hobby
flashed across the landscape creating panic amongst the smaller
birds. It wasn't until late afternoon that the Painted Button-quail
became evident. I heard it start to call close to sunset - had it
been there all day, unseen?
Alas, no Regent Honeyeaters or Swift Parrots on my place that day,
but they could very likely have been just over the next ridge, or
visiting the next morning when I wasn't there. Conditions are the
best I've seen in the valley for a while, and the whole place is
buzzing with bird activity. It's amazing how things move up a gear
almost as soon as the winter solstice passes, helped along by a bit
of rain. Sensational, I agree!
Cheers,
Carol
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