Somewhere over the rainbow . . .

Rainbow Lorikeet - batwing coral treat

Sunbird, Olive-backer - cocky apple snacker

Brolga up en pointe - rite of springy joints

Takes time to gather in Koel family

Three Koels frequenting Townsville Common entry area refused requests to gather for family portrait and it's taken some time to get them together even singly. Above, male, less often seen than female (below).

Seen least often, juvenile. Probably raised by Torresian Crows, but not seen until being fed by Mum.

Well able to feed itself, juvenile Brown Honeyeater hard at it yesterday morning.

Nearby a few days ago, Rainbow Lorikeet tucks into last of Rose Gum florets.

Pipit swims into view after dry Aussie crawl

Bit of dry Aussie crawl across baked mud at Melaleuca viewing area today brought Australian Pipit closer than commonly - for a few frames.

Pity, bird didn't offer 'that' perfect pose. Then, better pose, but greater distance.

Too much greenery to allow crawl up on Horsfields Bushlark. The species can, however, be surprisingly tolerant of people walking patiently toward them. Not at all tolerant, and thus unphotographed, pair of Brown Quail and a Red-backed Buttonquail unseen till flushed from long couchgrass nearby.

If only their behaviour matched that of Owlet Nightjar. Haven't got daytime look at species in the Town Common. Got lucky early in the week at western edge of Townsville while having casual look for honeyeaters near bottom of highway climb up local range. Spotted huge scar 20-metres up towering gum - with curious grey blob.

Which resolved through binoculars into alert nightjar. No way down 20m drop off highway and 40-50m across to gum, so lucky find could not become lucky sharp image.

If only nightjars thronged like Rainbow Lorikeets. In this case, to rose gums flowering at eastern fence  edge of the Town Common. Plenty of action again today: bird above feeding on Thursday morning.

No thronging for Eastern Koels, but above female and a male tucked into a mixture of native figs beside the entry gate this morning.

And to polish things off, immature Pacific Baza about to end several minutes of carrying big colourful caterpillar and polish it off with one quick swallow.

Who's the prettiest boy ... then?

Few prettier sights in Tyto than male Crimson Finch (Neochmia phaeton) in prime plumage.

Splendid up close.

Rainbow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus) offers colourful challenge.

Intermediate Egret (Ardea intermedia) looks lovely in early morning light.

Male Cotton Pygmy-goose (Nettapus coromandelianus) floats in subtle beauty.  
Click pix to enlarge

Spotless Crake not so easy to spot

Immature Spotless Crake (Porzana tabuensis) peers from out of cover beside a Tyto track. In maturity the drab grey back will give way to chocolate brown. The eyes will glow red. Ditto the legs. Worth waiting to see.

Always worth waiting to see: Rainbow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus), scratched up from the holdover file.

Ditto this Red-tailed Black-Cockatoo (Calyptorhynchus banksii) crunching into green almond down the road from Tyto.

Updates: Male Comb-crested Jacana stays glued to surviving youngster. Three other families: four, three and two immatures. Plus two youngsters now independent.

Shining Flycatchers still feeding probably three hatchlings.

Lorikeet, Crested Grebe go it alone

Many birds appear happy with their own company, but it was a surprise to see usually extremely sociable Rainbow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus) feeding alone in a Euodia (Corkwood) for three days.

Noticed it never flew from branch to branch in its tree beside the Tyto lookout shelter. Perhaps it couldn't fly? Also, very trusting. Perhaps part tame? Several lengthy chats with the bird didn't resolve questions. No sign of it today. Maybe just a happy loner.

Much less common species in Tyto, but often a loner, Great Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus) floated into distant view yesterday. First sighting for more then two years. Waited for an hour. Bird began paddling nearer. The only other two people in Tyto all morning wandered innocently along. Bird skittered off to other end of lagoon. No sign of it today. One bird. One tick. One year or two till next?

Rainbows lighten up the grey days

Plenty of grey around North Queensland with Cyclones Neville and Olga collapsing into rainy lows. So a bit of colour needed. And what's more colourful than Rainbow Lorikeets (Trichoglossus haematodus), specially on Rose Gum flowers? Beetle is bonus, unnoticed at time.

Not so gaudy, but every bit as noisy and scarcely less numerous lately, Scaly-breasted Lorikeet (Trichoglossus chlorolepidotus), on Euodia (Corkwood - also popular with Ulysses butterflies).

Sunny or grey, January shaping as lowest species count in Tyto in recent years. December usually the -100 month: but 114 last month; 99 this month. Why? Who knows? Not me!

Umbrellas for Rainbow Lorikeets

Umbrellas for Rainbow Lorikeets (Trichoglossus haematodus) under the bluest of skies nearing sunset near Ingham? Well, Umbrella Tree (Schefflera actinophylla) flowers and seeds anyway.

The long flowering spikes attract many other birds, honeyeaters, bowerbirds and figbirds. But no other birds seem to have quite so much fun as the Rainbows feeding their faces. It's a little odd that Scaley-breasted Lorikeets - so alike in many ways - do not show the same appetite.

There is another side to the Umbrella Tree. Planters of native gardens, more than ably assisted by birds and small animals, have helped introduce the trees into areas where they are not welcome. Thus (from the DPI):

'The umbrella tree is native to northern Queensland,

north of the tropic of Capricorn. In its natural

ecosystem it has maintained a balance with other

native species, however, when it is grown in

southern Queensland, this fast growing invader

out-competes local native species. It is a prolific

seeder, invading national parks, remnant bushland,

undisturbed forests and reserves, causing harm to

the local ecosystems’ flora and fauna.

It is commonly grown as an ornamental in backyards

as it has a unique look and attracts birds.

Unfortunately, these birds can rapidly spread the

seeds, particularly through native bushland. The

roots of umbrella trees can pressurise building

foundations and block plumbing joints and pipes.

These disadvantages can be overcome by growing

local native species, instead of this invasive plant

from a foreign ecosystem. Appropriate species may

include Celery Wood, Leopard Ash, Native

Tamarind, and Wheel of Fire.'

Just as well Rainbow Lorikeets can't read! Of course, there are more than a few people who think Rainbows also are too much of a good thing, too dominant, greedy and bossy. And much too colourful. Certainly not a bird that does things by halves.   

Rainbow Lorikeet over the top

A problem with Rainbow Lorikeets (Trichoglossus haematodus) is the temptation to crank up saturation to psychedelic levels. But the colours are dazzling enough, there's no need to go over the top.

Nobody told this bird (click pic to enlarge) about not going over the top. Came upon it bouncing on a dead stump of branch in Tyto this week. The bird kept mouthing and 'licking' a leaf of the tree. Couldn't see any insect life at all on the leaf. Nor was the bird biting chunks out of the leaf.

Rather, it seemed the bird might be drawing something 'chemically interesting' from the ragged edge of the leaf. After each mouthing/lick it would bounce up and down on the branch, then throw its head vigorously left and right. Licking, bouncing, head tossing. Bouncing, licking, head tossing. And so on for more than 10 minutes. A few random screeches and a bit of chattering added to the colourful encounter.

A few other Rainbows then turned up, but landed in a nearby Euodia. They paid no heed to the bouncing bird and it showed no interest in them. But it gave me a last screech and took off. Hard to be sure, but it may have been joined in departure flight by the newcomers.

I have absolutely no idea what the episode was all about. Took a tentative taste of leaf. Nothing. No taste, smell, reaction of any sort. Never seen any lorikeets in the tree before, nor any other birds acting oddly.

Am trying to nail ID for tree. Don't hold your breath! (Feb 6: hope you didn't hold breath! Tree is 'Alphitonia excelsa, commonly known as the Red Ash or Soap Tree, is a species of tree in the Rhamnaceae family. It is endemic to Australia, being found in New South Wales, Queensland, Northern Territory and the northeastern tip of Western Australia. It is used in bush regeneration as a pioneer species and for amenity planting.' Thanks, Wiki, and Greg Calvert, who told me name, which I forgot.)

While on the subject of lorikeets, here's a holdover Scaly-breasted (T. chlorolepidotus) from an earlier post, for comparison between the closely related species.  

Lorikeets in two minds

A Scaly-breasted Lorikeet (Trichoglossus chlorolepidotus) tucks in to Euodia (commonly, Evodia) flowers during an extended feeding spell in Tyto yesterday. The bird's partner shot off early on. Expecting the pictured bird to do likewise, I rattled off several quick bursts. Then, we settled down: the lorikeet to enjoy foraging; me to stay close for a chat.

There's always a fly or two in the (app)ointment however. Birdwatcher first and photographer second, and engrossed in the chat, I failed to change camera settings to take advantage of improving light. So, pictures noisy and suffering for lack of tripod - back in car and put aside in favour of umbrella.

Rather appropriate, being in two minds about what to set out with, then having extended chat with a bird that itself often seems in two minds. Smaller and plainer than Rainbow Lorikeets (T. haematodus), Scalys give the impression they would be amazed to be told they were not Rainbows.

I'm sure they think themselves merely a little less colourful. And though their smaller relative size leaves them open to bullying, it's no surprise that aviary escapees in Melbourne and elsewhere are said to readily find Rainbow and other lorikeet breeding partners. (But I cannot remember ever seeing any intermediate forms.) 

Portrait of Adoring Grey

Bit of a grab bag for Santa's night. Start with the best first on Xmas Eve, shall we? Besides which, pun lodged in my grey matter and refused to be erased. So, Black-faced Woodswallow (Artamus cinereus) strikes ageless pose in the later afternoon light. 

I'm repaying the species with kindness after one of their kind recently took against me. For unknown reason it began buzzing me when I neared its evening perch on a nearby road sign. Odd. (Years ago seagulls launched at me when marathon jogging. Something about the outline and black shorts, I think.)

Onwards and upwards. Garishly awful picture of Rainbow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus) serves to show why Tropical North Queensland is covered in mistakenly admired Tulip trees. Many weeds, sadly, look oh so attractive!

The profuse seed heads hold huge numbers of feather-light capsules in triple stacks. Lorikeets love them but are fussy about it, feasting for a day or so on some trees, ignoring others, then quitting the area.

The birds carry seeds away of course. But their feeding helps loosen and scatter huge numbers of seeds. The wind does the rest. Some days, tracks in Tyto are almost covered by the thumbnail-sized seed envelopes. No wonder the woodland is full of seedlings. 

Onwards and inwards. The Azure Kingfishers (Ceyx azureus) have flown the burrow. Must have been two or three days ago. I suspected as much yesterday when pictured bird sat and stared unconcerned at me for about half an hour.

It had turned up without calling, and without any fish in bill. Nervy at first, it settled to an occasional head bob. Encouraged, I edged closer on hands and knees, then, clumsily, on bottom, like a rower sliding forward.

If a kingfisher can be amused, this was such a bird. I inched closer till only the pool's width separated us. It never flinched. I asked after the family and got only smug silence as answer. I looked away briefly and it was gone.

Today, I returned. No sight, sound or sign of kingfishers, apart from the tidy hole in the bank. Carefully inserted leafy branch into tunnel. Nothing to feel but the tunnel's earth. And only an earthy smell on the leaves after withdrawing the branch.

Here's the curious thing. I'm not at all downcast about missing the exit of the young birds. It was always going to be a matter of luck. And thoughts of getting good pictures met the reality that professionals would use fixed cameras, motion sensors and auto flashes.

So I count myself lucky to have had about two months off and on with two glorious and secretive little birds. I learned a tiny bit more about them. And a bit more about myself.