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Arrived at Shepherds Lookout at 8 am and birded until 9:30 am.
Unfortunately, the total we checked off (14) roughly equaled the temperature.
Probably exceeded it because a 25 kph southerly made it feel like about 10
degrees.
A short distance from the carpark we spotted a pair of quail feeding in the
open beside the track 25 metres away. We froze (which was easy to do under
the prevailing conditions) and binoed them for a minute before they flushed, and
we ID'd them as Stubble Quail. They flew high and far before descending. Higher
and further than Brown Quail normally do. Harry Frith's Birds of the
Australian High Country gives some useful pointers on the flushing
characteristics of quail.
Saw a very young fledgling Eastern Rosella being fed. We glassed the
Peregrines' place but no joy. They were probably inside by the fire peeking
eerily (!) out at freezing fools with binoculars. At least we saw a perched
Nankeen Kestrel, feathers all fluffed up against the breeze. It wouldn't be
Shepherds Lookout without a raptor.
We called quits and headed back to the ute. "Brr!" Brat announced, "that
wind is straight from Antarctica, and it's blowing off a polar bear's
arse!"
"Samantha!" I said, feigning a shocked countenance, "Please, you're
supposed to be a young lady! And don't be silly, there're no polar bears in
Antarctica."
"Sorry, sir," she replied, feigning contriteness, "I'll rephrase that, the
breeze is wafting off the posterior of a penguin."
I dunno where they get it from. What do I do with these
little-daughter-brat things? Belt 'em, or love 'em?
After lunch, we bird-blitzed around Lake Ginninderra for 90 minutes and
bagged 24 species. Just the usual Lake Ginn suspects, nothing high-lightable.
Stopped at the Red Roster restaurant and had a lovely, crunchy chicken burger
accompanied by ersatz coffee. "Good birding tucker, Eh, Dad," ebullient Brat
announced.
"Yes darling, indeed. But the coffee tastes like it was strained through a
flock of roosting Nankeen Night-herons," I replied. People at adjacent tables
stared, probably wondering why the young lady was having some sort of a giggling
fit.
John Layton
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