Boinng! Sproinng! Kapow!!!

Why is the Masked Lapwing (Vanellus miles) shrilling at the agitated Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys) on the mown track near my 20-minute morning survey area?

Because the grass is rippling? Not quite. The grass is rippling because a two-metre Amethyst Python (Morelia amethistina) is sliding through it, toward a Leichardt Tree and longer buffalo grass.

Leap off bike and move to cut off snake. Which virtually ignores me, eases on to leaf litter under the tree and smoothly rises unsupported close to a metre to reach a low branch. Without urgency the snake climbs a bit higher and pauses to flick out a tongue and assess things.

Stalemate. If I stay around the snake won't move. If I go too far the snake will vanish in the mysterious way they do. We compromise. I go off briefly. The snake decides I'm no threat and surprisingly quickly begins to leave the relative safety of the tree. It tolerates my return and some (failed) closeups.

Down to ground, the snake noses through more grass, across a dry ditch, ignores a cool and shaded culvert, and begins a diagonal route down a lightly metalled dirt and grass vehicle track. More pictures at a distance because the snake may well climb the tree against which my bike is leaning. Or even (a bonus!) climb the bike.

Instead: Boinng! Sproinng! Kapow!!! Sproinng! Boinng! Boinng!

A medium-small Agile Wallaby (Macropus agilis) hurtles into view at high speed, bounds on to the raised track, spins in the air, clubs the snake heavily with a thudding right foot to the head and leaves even faster the way it came.

So, two of us totally gob-smacked. Me, and the snake! Neither of us moves for maybe two minutes. The snake with head and neck pulled back in a slightly unnatural position after the wallaby's impact. Perhaps it was literally stunned. Me, mentally stunned and open-mouthed at the attack.

The snake straightens and moves off as if nothing untoward has taken place. Perhaps by a snake's lights nothing odd has happened. (I've sometimes joked about snakes in the wetlands suffering frequent headaches because of accidental thumps by the numerous wallabies.)

For another 10 minutes we dawdle over about 30 metres of mainly open ground. A final farewell stroke by me sees the snake safely into long protective bladey grass. Something for us both to tell the little ones.

Agile words and mow woe

An Agile Wallaby (Macropus agilis) pauses from the serious business of munching selected stalks of grass to take stock of the decrepit life form crawling towards it.

After a few minutes of uncertain feeding it decided to sneak a little closer before hopping slowly away. Maybe it had seen enough of that big glass eye!

Tyto is more or less bounded on two sides by sports grounds and a pony club. Hundreds of Agiles - supposedly nocturnal and definitely gregarious - thrive and sport morning and evening on the resulting tender grasses around their habitat.

There's even been a spot of local hysteria. First, a junior footballer was 'tripped' by a wallaby making its way off the field. And 'all those droppings'. But juniors fall over their own feet all the time, and dogs' and cats' droppings - much nastier! - fester over all suburbia.

Certainly Agiles (aka Grass Wallabies) love mown areas. So shires taking pride in their Tropical North Queensland parklands create ideal conditions for them. So there's the rub.

But wait, there's more. All that splendid grass in which the wallaby is pictured grows on a raised square, a lightly treed hectare or so planted after Tyto's early shaping. The grass dominates until the Wet sets in. Bigger weeds then take over and are head high by the time any mower can tackle the growth in late April.

First comes the big slasher. Then the mower. And again the mower. And again...and so on. Then comes the chainsaw team to trim the trees - so the mower can get in closer. And lop off the mistletoes - so they can't drop on the mower.

All of which is considerably less than carbon neutral. As is mowing tracks ever wider - because tourists love everything trim and parklike.

Am I the only one wishing for some real tree change in the attitude of councils and shires toward parks and reserves?

Two on to three won't go!

Two out of three ain't bad, they (the ubiquitous they) say.

Ain't good neither, say I. Two's company, three's a crowd as an adage doesn't count for much as we add age.

Enough trying to make every word count. Here's the problem. Agile Wallaby 10 metres below us with young joey peeking brickish-red face out into the morning. Willie Wagtail, diving about and using wallaby's back as springboard.

How many shots needed to get all three in one? Don't waste your time. Problem doesn't compute. It appears the joey and the bird have a deal: one shows, other goes; one chides, other hides.

Second problem: even if all three lined up, the scale between them means two onto one won't go. Cut out the middle Mum? Thought of that but bird and joey wouldn't play ball.

Here's the real lesson. We know it's never going to add up. But we sit there because it just might. And when it doesn't, it doesn't matter. We've had 30 minutes' fun trying to talk them into it.

Complete change of pace and place. The latest edition, 83, of I and The Bird, blog carnival to treasure, is again working its magic, at:
http://reflections.wrenaissance.info/2008/09/i-and-bird-83-joy-of-birds.html

Read, wallow in and wonder at the world of birds and birders. I'd plug it even if I wasn't making a debut entry (he said, mock-modestly).

Let's take a little walk

'Black' Butcherbird...rufous morph (sorry about the picture)

Little Shrike-Thrush ... delays the quest

Come for a little birding walk with me. We'll gloss over most of the trees and plants and concentrate on living things.

Nearly 8am at Tyto carpark, warm (say 20C), greyish light, low cloud, mild breeze. Promise of later sunshine.

Brown Honeyeaters, Yellow Honeyeaters, House Sparrows, Bar-shouldered Doves, Spotted Turtle-Doves and Indian Mynas in the carpark plantings and backing eucalypts.

On the bike (you walk, I ride), toward the first lagoon. Darter, wings outstretched, takes warmth from the feeble sunlight. Agile Wallabies crop grass. Near hairless joey pokes its brick-red head from one pouch. Withdraws shyly. Fairy Martins hawk for insects and dip to the water.

Turn right toward north boundary (suburbia) and routine daily survey in Birds Austalia's preferred format: 2-hectare, 20-minute count. Dry creek lined by small trees to left, open ground right with 20+ Bush Stone-Curlews - beyond survey limit - standing around. Whistling Kite opens count, then Fairy Martins (5), Masked Lapwings (2), Peaceful Doves (2), Crimson Finches (8), Red-browed Finches (6), Willie Wagtails (2), a Straw-necked Ibis, White-browed Robins (3) and a Black Butcherbird.

But it's not black. The bird's an immature rufous morph, race rufescens. Cracticus quoyi adults are black but one nest may offer rufous, and black. More to point, the species isn't numerous in Tyto and photographic desire takes over. Twist and turn, duck and dodge, miss chances, lose bird, refind, lose again, get distracted by juvenile White-browed Robin. Finally emerge almost 45 minutes later with so-so pictures of Butcher, robins and Little Shrike-Thrush (another distraction).

'Gimme food'. 'Gimme food'. 'Gimme food'. White-browed Robin proves immune to pester power.

Onward to main lagoon lookout. Forest Kingfishers, Green Pigmy Geese, Australasian Grebes, Comb-crested Jacanas, Wandering Whistling-Ducks, Pacific Black Ducks, Little Pied Cormorants, Great Egret, Intermediate Egret, Black-necked Stork (juvenile triplets), Royal Spoonbills, Yellow-billed Spoonbill, Black Kite overhead, and Welcome Swallows and White-bellied Woodswallows.

To the hide. Find professional guide, photographer, cinematographer and Tyto instigator and visionary John Young seeking responses from resident Little Bitterns (2 heard), Spotless Crakes and White-browed Crakes. No sightings or sounds for me (apart from on John's hi-tech toys).

Chat away (birds, snakes, butterflies, more birds). Spot Australian Reed Warblers, White-throated Gerygone and one Little Kingfisher. Plus lovely green/black male Cairns Birdwing (butterfly), and a White-lipped Treefrog on the bulrushes. At a distance, Grey Teal, a pair of White-necked Herons and four White Ibises.

Quick look at Brown-backed Honeyeaters completing a nest near the hide and at a noisy Yellow Oriole and John gone. I follow some Olive-backed Orioles along the southern creek track. Hello to Bumpy Rocketfrogs in their stump and out southwest on a wide fire trail (access for firefighters).

No sign of the Southern Boobook (first for me: 225 on my Tyto list, of 235 total) harassed by a Spangled Drongo two days ago. But Mistletoe Birds, Sunbirds, MacLeay's Honeyeaters, a lone Fairy Gerygone and the Drongo show up.

Back on to inner lagoon circuit, look for migrant Latham's Snipe. None. Across western end and White-gaped Honeyeaters dash to and from small island. Chestnut-breasted Mannikins in the bulrushes, Nutmeg Mannikins in bushes and a plaintive Horsfield's Cuckoo atop a nearby tree.

No Collared Sparrowhawk in the usual hiding spot down the planted levee but two Sacred Kingfishers dart away. White-winged Triller works water's edge shrubs for insects.

Return to base of lookout and take southern track back toward Brown-backed Honeyeaters' nest. Surprise Common Tree Snake lying in feeble sunshine. Quickly vanishes. Surprise Buff-banded Rail almost below BBs' nest (didn't tell you I'd glimpsed rail first time around!).

No Azure Kingfisher in last big pool on creek. Get four Metallic Starlings, new seasonal arrivals from Papua New Guinea, as compensation.

Movement in gauvas leads to Graceful Honeyeater taking material from part-built nest (possibly BBH). Lose Graceful and turn to find a big Common Tree Snake moving around a tree trunk. Tiptoe up and get poor picture as snake changes mind about ascending tree and drops into long grass.

Walk (bike gets parked here and there) on and see dark head. Male Leaden Flycatcher. Another dark head. Northern Fantail, which sits on felled tree in sunshine. I sit on same trunk. Fantail won't turn to suit camera. Nor will a Silvereye, which pops up from the grass and devours a small insect.

After much singing a male Rufous Whistler appears, followed by a Varied Triller, a White-bellied Cuckoo-Shrike and a Helmeted Friarbird. (Talk about no buses and then three at once!).

A Ulysses butterfly beams its blue brilliance along the creek, and a Wanderer (Monarch) flitters by before I quit my log and head back to the carpark. Always room for more on the list and a Blue-winged Kookaburra makes an excellent final sighting.

What have we forgotten? Probable chunky Red-bellied Black snake diving from sight, Rainbow Lorikeets streaking overhead, Rainbow Bee-eaters 'pirrip'erring in the distance, Tawny Grassbirds sticking to cover, Golden-headed Cisticolas likewise.

That's it. Four hours, a great fun chase to be continued another day, 65 birds seen, plus snakes, butterflies and wallabies and three pictures more or less keepable.

Hope you enjoyed the walk.

Some slither, some hop, some fly ...

An Amethyst Python takes a discriminating taste of the air as some big heat-emitter gets in the way at Tyto Wetlands. Couldn't photograph fast enough to stop all movement of tongue. The glistening 3.5 metre snake radiated plump health. After a few more flickers of tongue it untensed and unhurriedly went on its way.

An Agile Wallaby takes a thoughtful bite on the breakfast of choice for champion hoppers - tender grass. The 90-hectare wetlands nourish and shelter hundreds of the species. Agiles bound along athletically enough, but more impressive marsupial agility is shown by various rock wallabies.

Black Kite takes a turn across Tyto's main lagoon. These birds lost out to northern counterparts for rights to the more accurate descriptive title of Fork-tailed Kites. Another unknowing casualty in taxonomy's name games. Yes, I know, it's serious and essential work.