CATBIRD QUEST

It is hot. The cicadas are so loud I can't hear the bird calls. It is December 2022 and I am with Phil Gregory at Iron Range, hoping desperately to see a Black-eared Catbird. This bird is fast becoming a bogey bird. I visited Iron Range in 2017 with Phil Maher and in 2018 with Chook, on both occasions joining a tour in the vain hope of seeing a Black-eared Catbird (although in fairness I should point out that in 2017 I did add Spotted Whistling Duck to my lifelist at Archer River so it wasn't a totally wasted trip). I had thought that a catbird should be easy and that any guide worth his fee should be able to show me one. However, I've since learnt differently. Catbirds are not easy. They are elusive and, if they do not call, they can be impossible to see. So I was done with tours. On this occasion I hired a private guide. Phil told me that the three hardest birds at Iron Range are Northern Scrubrobin, Yellow-legged Flyrobin and, yes, Black-eared Catbird. Now I've seen scrubrobins and flyrobins aplenty: all I ask is one good look at an Iron Range catbird. Riflebirds were calling magnificently. Orioles wouldn't shut up. Black-winged Monarchs were both vocal and visible, making me wonder why I'd bothered with a special trip to McIvor River to add them to my list. Catbirds remained stubbornly silent.

Getting to Iron Range is expensive. Of course it's a delightful spot with some exceptional birds and I'm lucky to have an excuse to go there. But Lockhart River is a dry community so I am without alcohol for the duration. If I do see my catbird I will not be able to celebrate appropriately until I return home. To get to Iron Range, I fly to Cairns, then take the Skytrans Dash 8 to Lockhart River. Phil advises I should allow a good two days to get the catbird, so I leave home on Sunday, overnight in Cairns, fly to Iron Range on Monday, find the catbird on Tuesday or Wednesday, fly back to Cairns on Thursday, then home to Melbourne on Friday. Quite a production for one little bird. And this is the third time I've done it. Don't anybody try to tell me that I haven't earned this tick. So I flew to Cairns on Sunday. Here I did manage to see a Scaly-breasted Munia, a bird that avoided me when I visited Cairns in March to admire the Nordmann's Greenshank. On Monday I flew to Iron Range and met Phil. Hightlights for me were a Trumpet Manucode, a Green-backed Honeyeater and a Frill-necked Monarch. On Tuesday we looked seriously for the catbird. We saw a Yellow-billed Kingfisher, a Double-eyed Fig Parrot, a Yellow-breasted Boatbill and a pair of Northern Scrubrobins. I did hear a catbird in the far distance. On Wednesday I was starting to feel anxious. I would hate to think that I'd visited Iron Range in vain for the third time. We saw a White-eared Monarch to add to the Frill-necked and Black-winged members of the genus. All very nice, I'm sure, but not a catbird. Then suddenly, there is was! My beautiful catbird miaowing at me. He landed just above my head, allowing me to view his beautiful breast with much bolder markings than his spotted cousin. He flew around, teasing us, calling and (I thought) jeering at me. Needless to say I was absolutley thrilled, even though I wasn't able to toast his beauty with a glass of bubbly. Thank you, Phil. On Thursday, I added Palm Cockatoo to my list before I flew back to Cairns. On Friday, I flew back home to prepare for my big December trip: Christmas on Christmas.

THE LURE OF A LIFER

Wow! A lifer, Gouldian Finches, Rainbow Pittas and Zitting Cisticolas all in one morning! It was 9 December 2022. The lifer was a Swinhoe's Snipe and I was at Pine Creek, south of Darwin with Luke Paterson from NT bird Specialists. It was hot. Five minutes earlier I'd been conscious of the temperature. I'd flown to Darwin to look for the snipe against my better judgement as I had a long-standing appointment to go to Iron Range in FNQ the next week to look for what was fast becoming a bogey bird, the Black-eared Catbird. When I realized that I wouldn't get the snipe in my spare moments in Queensland after I'd got the catbird, I thought I'd better look elsewhere. Next year would be appropriate. I contacted Luke from Nt Bird Specialists and was told categorically: there's only one month to see the snipe - that's December. Could I fit in a quick trip to Darwin before my scheduled flight to FNQ? The lure of a lifer was too strong. Of course I could.

I flew to Darwin. I allowed two days to snare the snipe. On the first day Luke and I explored Darwin's best snipe hangouts - Leanyer Sewage Treatment Ponds (above photo is just outside Leanyear), Knuckey Lagoons, McMinn's Reserve. We had a pleasant day, clocked up a respectable 72 species, including some very good birds such as Red-headed Myzomela and Broad-billed Flycatcher. But I wasn't here for a pleasant time admiring very good birds. I was here for a lifer. It was time to get serious. Luke said our best bet was to drive to Pine Creek, some 225 kilometres south of Darwin. A snipe had been seen there recently. This bird (presumably it was the same bird) turned up every year and was very loyal to the one site - a drain beside the road. So Luke and I set off at 5.30 the next morning, full of optimism. A heat wave was forecast across the whole of the north of the continent. The countryside was very green. Wildflowers were in profusion. My mood remained positive even when we arrived at Pine Creek and parked under a large colony of fruit bats. And I was optimistic as we set off to explore the length of the drain. I was a bit alarmed to see that the drain was quite dry, but Luke seemed okay with that. Who was I to query the expert? A koel was calling and I made a mental note to track him down later, after we'd seen our quarry. The Hooded Parrots wouldn't wait: they flew right in front of us, the male unbelievably colourful and handsome. As I obediantly followed Luke beside the dry drain I began to be aware of the heat. I'd never seen snipe in a dry drain. Just what were we doing here? It was madness. We'd have been better off trying Knuckey Lagoon again. I trudged along considering ways I could have spent the money I'd squandered trying to see a Swinhoe's Snipe. Suddenly a brown bird flushed in front of us and flew fast across the oval: undeniably a snipe! The trip had been vindicated. Of course I hadn't really dounbted Luke. He was the expert after all.

TOWER HILL AND PORT FAIRY

Yesterday I enjoyed a very pleasant pelagic out of Port Fairy. This was the first time I'd been out on the new big boat, the Southern Explorer.

I had expected some big swells, perhaps some rain, and certainly cold winds with lots of seaspray. As it turned out, the seas were calm, the weather benign. I listed 17 species of birds out at sea, but I dipped on one Flesh-footed Shearwater that flew past in a hurry. I was a little disappointed we didn't see more storm petrels - I love these dainty little ballerinas. I saw just three storm petrels, all Wilson's. And the only prions we saw were Fairy Prions. There weren't big numbers of them either, but some came quite close to the boat. There were no diving petrels and just two Little Penguins. Naturally there were Silver Gulls and Greater Crested Terns, and, when we were nearly back at port at the end of the day, just one Common Tern. And those elegant creatures, Australasian Gannets, graced us with their presence throughout the day.

What there were a lot of were Shy Albatrosses. And they were not shy. We must have seen hundreds throughout the day, gliding, taking berleigh or just sitting beside the boat, seeming to enjoy being admired. Just one Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross flew past quickly, unfortunately missed by many people on the boat. And there just a handful of great albatrosses: two or three Southern Royal and one Wandering. Everyone is impressed by a great albatross. Their sheer size is breath-taking. This photo was taken by Ken Haines.

I thought there were surprisingly few Short-tailed Shearwaters, given we were in Port Fairy in November. I saw one Sooty Shearwater, but I'm told there were more. I'm not sure how many Northern Giant Petrels there were (no Southern), I only saw one at a time, so it is possible it was the same bird throughout the day. As to the petrels, there were Grey-faced, Great Winged and White-chinned. Here's a White-chinned, taken by Ken Haines.

My last pelagic in February, out of Kiama, was quite disastrous. I spent the entire day, wet to the skin, shivering in the captain's cabin. Yesterday was more like it. Good company, good birds, good weather. As a pelagic should be. On Saturday afternoon, we visited Tower Hill. This is site 57 in my 100 Best Birdwatching Sites in Australia. I've been there many times before and always enjoyed it. As always, I was entertained by koalas, kangaroos and emus. Other people enjoyed the copperheads. I liked the skinks. But of course I preferred the birds. We saw a pair of Musk Ducks with three cute ducklings. And just one male Blue-billed Duck made me think the water must have been deeper than I'd expected. There were some regal swans, and a few other waterfowl, Swamp Harriers (of course!) and one or two Whistling Kites. As usual, the highlight for me was the bush birds. There was one gorgeous male Australian Golden Whistler, and, I think an equally attractive, if not quite so showy, male Rufous Whistler. There were Silvereyes, Brown Thornbills and a good collection of honeyeaters: White-naped, Yellow-faced and New Holland. There were Red-browed Finches and European Goldfinches. I mustn't forget the fairywrens: the males were truly superb, living up to their name quite appropriately. We heard, but did not see, a Fan-tailed Cuckoo. Likewise, we heard, but did not see a mournful Little Grassbird. Luckily, we did see, one very noisy Australian Reed Warbler. Tower Hill is worth a visit. There is no reason (in my opinion) to commune with the copperheads. Walk right past is my advice. Then you can admire the beautiful Musk Ducklings.

WONDERFUL WERRIBEE

Yesterday, I spent a wonderful day at Werribee. A birding mate from New South Wales was visiting Victoria and suggested a trip to the Western Treatment Plant. I agreed with alacrity. We met at Beach Road at 9.30 a.m. and birded happily until around 4 p.m., clocking up just 66 species, including three that we heard but did not see (Red Wattlebird, White-plumed Honeyeater and Australian Reed Warbler). I love going to Werribee and always enjoy myself there, no matter what the weather or how badly the birds behave. However, I do like the place to perform when I have an interstate guest, and I confess that yesterday I was disappointed with both the number of birds and the number of species. There were lots and lots of very vocal Little Grassbirds just about everywhere we went, and an incredible number of skeins of ibis flying overhead. Almost every time I looked up, there was another flock of a hundred or so birds. Assuming it wasn't a few birds recycling themselves, we must have seen many thousands of ibis. All those I identified were Straw-necked.

That was good. However, we saw very few ducks, just a handful of pelicans, no coots, no terns whatsoever, and just a few raptors. There were not many waders, and those that were there were skittish, but that's fine for September. The bird of the day was undoubtedly the Australian Crake that entertained us at the Borrow Pits while we had lunch, walking and running around in front of us perfectly at home. Probably the only other noteworthy bird was a Buff-banded Rail, playing along the creek edge near the Beach Road entrance. This photo of a Buff-banded Rail, taken by Ken Haines, is not the same bird. (Indeed, if I'm honest, it's not even the same race.)

Apart from the crake and the rail, I was disappointed. Over the years, I've visited Werribee many times, but I can only find records for two visits in the month of September. That was in 2007 and 2017. On both those occasions I saw many more species than I managed yesterday. The only bird I've identified that we saw yesterday, but not in either 2007 or 2017 was a Black-faced Cuckooshrike. In 2017, not only did we see both the crake and the rail that we saw yesterday, we saw two other crakes as well: Baillon's and Spotless. Yesterday must be one of very few visits to Werribee at any time of year when I came home coot-less. On my previous September trips, not only did I tick coots, but I saw moorhen on both occasions and a nativehen in 2017. I saw Glossy Ibis on both previous September trips. There was not a hint of Glossy Ibis yesterday. I saw a Great Crested Grebe in 2017, a bird I wanted yesterday for my year list, but did not see. We saw many more ducks on both previous September visits: more birds and more species, namely: Hardhead, Pink-eared and Blue-billed Ducks and Grey Teal. In 2007 we saw shelduck. In 2017 we saw gannets, but the coast road was closed yesterday, so we had little chance of gannets. We did visit the boat ramp, so we could have seen them. In 2007, we saw Pacific Gulls, but again, without driving along the coast road, we'd have been lucky to get Pacific Gulls yesterday. Nothwithstanding being denied access to the coast road, I did expect to see some terns. Not a one. On both previous September visits, we saw both Crested and Whiskered and in 2007, we saw Caspian. In 2017 we saw many more species of raptors: Spotted Harrier, Collared Sparrowhawk, Peregrine Falcon and both Wedge-tailed and Little Eagle. Yesterday, we saw kestrels, Whistling and Black-shouldered Kites, Brown Falcon and Swamp Harriers. In 2017 we saw Zebra Finch. There were no finches yesterday. There were no avocets yesterday either, a bird I sorely missed. In 2017 we saw Red-capped Plovers, Red-kneed Dotterels, Marsh Sandpipers and (yes!) Sanderlings. Nothing so exciting put in an appearance yesterday. The wind was cold, and we were a bit cross when our key did not work in the padlock when we attempted to leave, and we had to retrace our steps to the Beach Road entrance. But it is churlish to complain. We still had a fantastic day. It really is impossible to have a bad day at Werribee. Even if you come home tern-less and coot-less.

OPALTON GRASSWREN

I'm just back from a quick trip to Winton, to look for the Opalton Grasswren. I flew to Longreach, that took a day. First I flew to Brisbane, then Barcaldine, then (finally) Longreach. From Longreach, the next day I took the Greyhound bus to Winton (and a beautiful new bus it was too!). The following day I joined Peter Waanders grasswren tour just for the day, to look for the Opalton Grasswren. Then I reversed the procedure: it took me a day to do a two hour bus trip back to Longreach, and a day to fly home to Melbourne. Four days travel and one day birding. Now what could be stressful in that? The streets in Longreach are all named after birds: east/west streets are water birds; north/south streets are land birds. What a great idea!

The bus trip from Longreach to Winton was very comfortable and I saw some nice birds from the bus. Amongst others there were lots of Brown Songlarks, a lone Brown Falcon, and, best of all, several Australian Bustards. I reckon I saw eight in ones and twos. I thought this was pretty good, until I met up with Peter's group that evening. They had driven to Winton from Mt Isa and had seen ten times as many! Eighty bustards is quite a record. I had limited time in Longreach, but I did not see a sparrow. Winton, on the other hand, has a healthy population of House Sparrows. There were also a few Common Mynas. The most common birds around town are Black Kites and Crested Pigeons. There are also lots of budgies, Cockatiels and Peaceful Doves. I had time to do the touristy things: I visited the Waltzing Matilda Centre and Arno's Wall (just a concrete wall with various items embedded in it) and the site of Queensland's last Chinese market garden. I went to the cooling ponds (Winton uses artesian water, which is very hot when it comes to the surface). Here I saw several noisy Rufous Songlarks, but little else. But the purpose of my trip was to look for grasswren, not songlarks. I was confident about achieving my objective. Everyone I knew who'd set out to see an Opalton Grasswren had been successful. Realistically, my chances of seeing one were very good.

Opalton Grasswren are found at the Lark Quarry turnoff, near a large communication tower. The countryside was unbelievably green. We'd been told to wear jeans or even gaiters, but all the spinifex was soft and green and leg protection was not necessary. Unfortunately it was very windy when we arrived, not good birding conditions. Peter instructed us to stay together as a group, and to stay very quiet. As we set off, I felt all yesterday's optimism evaporate. This would go down in history as the first birding tour ever to dip on Opalton Grasswren. We would walk all day in this wind without glimpsing a grasswren. I would probably twist my ankle and get sunburned. Worse, I would fall over in front of everybody and break my other hip.

We left the motel at 6.30 a.m., paused briefly along the way to admire Hall's Babblers, and arrived at the Lark Quarry turnoff at 8 a.m.

By ten minutes past eight, we'd all had good views of the grasswren, as confirmed by this beautiful photo taken by Andrew Hobbs. How easy was that! In fact, except for the Dusky Grasswren that ran around under my feet at King's Canyon, it is the easiest grasswren I have ever seen. We walked around for a while, and kept seeing grasswren. Peter reckoned there were just two pairs that kept circling around us, but it certainly seemed like more than four birds to me. Then we turned our attention to Rufous-crowned Emu-wrens, which are delightful little birds, but, on this occasion, after a lifer, seemed like an anticlimax. We saw both Black and Pied Honeyeaters and Splendid and Purple-backed Fairywrens. Crimson Chats were common and one beautiful male Red-capped Robin wanted to make friends. We had excellent views of a Red-backed Kingfisher. Later, we visited Winton's sewage ponds where the highlight was Plum-headed Finches. An excellent trip! A great bird. Well worth four days' travel!

A NEW BIRD FOR MY WALK LIST

This morning I added a new bird to my walk list: Gang Gang Cockatoo!

I should say that this photo is not this morning's bird. I took this photo in Cooma some years ago. Gang Gangs can be surprisingly friendly to photographers, as long as the birds are busy feeding they don't worry about you. The Gang Gang brings my walk list total to 50 species. Which is not to say that I've ever seen 50 birds on a walk: that is my cumulative total of species for all walks. My best individual walk total is 24, which I achieved last spring. This morning I saw 20 species, which isn't bad for winter. (These are only short walks, designed to take 30 minutes.) As well as the usual suspects, this morning I saw Musk Lorikeets, which are not all that common in Kew East. Yesterday I saw Red-rumped Parrots, which are also unusual. The last new bird I added to my list was the Eastern Spinebill, which I had been missing from the streets around here. I used to see them regularly in the streets of Kew, but sadly, they are no longer present. I've visited the spots where I used to be able to rely on seeing a spinebill and alas! they are no longer here. I can see them if I go to the Burke Road Billabong when the correas are flowering, but I no longer see spinebills in the suburban streets around Kew. I do not know what has changed. There are still plenty of flowering plants. They are just another one of our small birds that are disappearing. It is most disconcerting. But today I am celebrating my sighting of Gang Gangs, not lamenting our loss of small birds. Although there is much to lament about Gang Gangs too. Gang Gangs are now officially listed as threatened. The Action Plan for Australian Birds 2020 lists Gang Gangs as 'Vulnerable.' They were previously listed as being of 'Least Concern.' The damage was done in the 2019 bushfires, which it is thought destroyed 10% of the population. Fires also destroyed habitat. The total population of Gang Gangs is estimated to be 25,000 individuals. Not a very big number.

I've always loved these clowns of the bird world, and I've always thought it appropriate that they should be the avifaunal emblem for our national capital.

BIRDING IN ROYAL PARK

Recently I joined the Friends of Royal Park on a bird survey. We started at Trin Warren Tam-Boore, where we noted all the usual suspects: Red Wattlebirds, Noisy Miners (of course!), Rainbow Lorikeets, magpies, Magpie-larks and Willie Wagtails. Welcome Swallows swooped over the water and the exotics were present in good numbers: mynas, Spotted Doves, Rock Doves. The glorious song of Grey Butcherbirds took my mind off these interlopers. A noisy white cocky drowned out the butcherbird, but I was busy adding Australasian Grebe, Grey Teal, swamphens and moorhens to my list. The best bird from my point of view, was a Tawny Frogmouth roosting in a gumtree near the carpark. In fact there were two. The Friends said that they were often there.

We did not see any fairywrens, but the Friends told me an interesting story. There is an old female Superb Fairywren who has started to exhibit male characteristics who lives at Trin Warren Tam-Boore. She has a blue tail and, in the breeding season, a little blue colouring on her head. The Friends told me that, because she is old, her testosterone levels have built up, thus giving her some male features. She has been nicknamed Dame Edna. (Which, of course, is back to front: a male masquerading as a female, rather than a female masquerading as a male.) I would like to meet Dame Edna.

We walked on into an area the Friends called 'Skink Habitat.' We saw kookaburras, House Sparrows and New Holland Honeyeaters. Then we were entertained by a wonderful display of several hyperactive Grey Fantails with both Striated and Spotted Pardalotes. They brought a smile to my face. Of course there were Pied Currawongs and Crested Pigeons. We heard Bell Miners (only appropriate, as that's what Trin Warren Tam-Boore is named after) and had great views of a female Australian Golden Whistler. Nothing too exciting, but an enjoyable walk with like minded people. Last Saturday I was pleased to attend a meeting conducted by the Friends of Royal Park, to learn about three projects presently underway: one studying Superb Fairywrens, one about White's Skink and the third about a matchstick grasshopper. Numbers of both grasshoppers and skinks are declining and causing concern. But of course I was there to learn about fairywrens. I was hoping to learn more about Dame Edna, but I did not.

This lovely photo of Dame Edna was taken by Peter Petinatos, and I'd like to thank him for it. The fairywren project at Royal Park is being jointly undertaken by the City of Melbourne, Birdlife Australia, Melbourne University and RMIT. We were told that fairywrens are vulnerable everywhere around the city because of loss of habitat and predation by cats. (I was interested that foxes were not mentioned.) Fairywrens breed every year and females disperse after breeding, moving up to eight kilometres away. Where do they go? Fairywrens require dense vegetation, and the project aims to discover whether revegetation will facilitate movement of fairywrens. Will the population increase, and, if so, where will these birds come from? All the fairywrens in the area have been banded. They have a blue metal band on their left leg and a unique two colour combination plastic band on their right leg. Birders are requested to report sightings of banded fairywrens. There was great excitement this week when the first banded fairywren was reported from the zoo. Forty-four designated sites have been selected. Birders are asked to go to a site, sit still for 5 minues, then count birds for 10 minutes. Report finds to superbcitywrens.com. I certainly plan to contribute to this project. Anything we can do to help save our small birds is worth doing!

BURKE ROAD BILLABONG

What a wonderful day! I had intended watching 'Insiders' (compulsory viewing for me, with or without an election), then spend the rest of the morning reading. But the sun came out and insisted that I go for a walk. I should have known it would be a beautiful day, when I saw the spectacular sunrise on my morning walk. All those pink fluffy clouds made me feel good to be alive. So, as soon as 'Insiders' was over, I grabbed my binoculars and set off. Although it is the 29th of May, I had not visited Burke Road Billabong this month, so that was my destination. To get there, I go via Hay's Paddock, then along the Koornung Trail to the billabong reserve. Unfortunately, I had a disagreement with a particularly ugly, but far too friendly dog in Hay's Paddock. I changed direction three times, I swore at it, but it was determined to accompany me. So I strode off out of Hay's Paddock into unknown suburbia. Only then did its unhelpful owner think the dog should be accompanying her rather than me, and half-heartedly voiced her disapproval. Meanwhile, I strode off unhappily up a hill, not usually part of my itinerary. Go home! a voice in my head, urged me. You're out to have fun, and if it isn't fun, you should turn back. I walked around a few corners and eventually arrived at a street I recognized. This was my opportunity to turn for home. However, I thought I'd just walk on a little more and then decide whether to proceed. I'm so glad I did! My monthly total of birds was 136, so I did not expect to see anything new for the month. However, I did! Inevitably, the first bird I saw when I arrived at the reserve was a Noisy Miner - a bird hardly likely to lift my spirits. Then there was an uncooperative White-browed Scrubwren and some hyperactive Grey Fantails. They always make me smile. The correas were in flower, and, much to my delight, playing amongst them were several Eastern Spinebills. I have been missing these beautiful birds from the streets of Kew. It is uplifting to know they are still around in the Burke Road Billabong Reserve. They were a new bird for my May list. And to think I might have turned back and missed them.

This beautiful photo was taken by Ken Haines. Very soon afterwards, I saw another new bird for my May list: an Australian Golden Whistler. This photo is also by Ken Haines.

I never get a particularly large bird count at Burke Road Billabong. I am usually only there for half an hour. Today I recorded 14 species. There were swamphens and moorhens on the golf course today, so that boosted my total. However, there was nothing on the river, but, just as I was about to leave, I saw the third new bird for me for May: a Crimson Rosella, another species that I have been missing from my daily walks. It is good to know that they, too, are still in Kew. I enjoyed my walk. And I was absolutely delighted to see spinebills and Crimson Rosellas, birds I have not seen here for many months.

A YEAR BACK IN KEW

It is now a year since I have returned to live in Kew, or, more correctly, moved to live in Kew East. I am lucky because I can walk to Burke Road Billabong, and Wilson Reserve is not far away. However, I confess that I do not visit Willsmere Billabong as often as I'd thought I would when I moved here, because the birds are not as prolific there as they used to be. When I moved in I was delighted to see black cockies and Crimson Rosellas every day. Sadly, they soon moved on. I had hoped that they would return this year, but alas! that has not been the case. I do see Eastern Rosellas sometimes. They manage to get onto my birdlist every month, but they are nowhere seen reliably. I am very disappointed that the small birds have disappeared. With the notable exception of Brown Thornbills, all the small birds that used to give me such pleasure, have simply deserted Kew East. We used to have Silvereyes, White-plumed Honeyeaters, and best of all, Eastern Spinebills. I did see a Spotted Pardalote a couple of times last summer, but they are rare here. The birdlist for my house now comprises 28 species, the most surprising being a Whistling Kite that appeared once last October, and a Grey Fantail that appeared for a few days last April. (The beautiful photo below was taken by Ken Haines.) Otherwise the list includes all the usual suspects (Noisy Miners and Rainbow Lorikeets, introduced mynas, starlings, Rock Doves, and blackbirds, and magpies, currawongs and butcherbirds). The only honeyeaters are wattlebirds, both Red and Little. Crested Pigeons are uncommon, but Galahs are not. We have both Little and Long-billed Corellas, but I've just noticed that Long-billed have not yet made it onto my house list. Silver Gulls and Australian White Ibis occasionally fly overhead and once, a Maned Duck landed on the neighbour's chimney. Black-faced Cuckooshrikes are around more often in summer.

I walk every day: either north, south, west or east. My walk list now comprises 48 species. This number is boosted significantly by waterbirds, as my north walk incorporates Hays Paddock. Hays Paddock is a local reserve, with a couple of footy ovals, an adventure playground for kids of all abilities, a small lake and a creek meandering through on the south. I see ducks and occasionally cormorants in the creek, ducks, moorhens, and coots on the lake, and there are usually swamphens wandering on the grass beside the lake. My walks are all quite short, designed to take half an hour in a loop. I try to record 15 species each walk. If it is not raining, this is usually achievable. My best walk was a north walk in spring with 24 species. West walks (to the Harp Junction, along suburban streets) are consistently the lowest scoring. Apart from black cockies, which I haven't seen for some time, the best bird on my walk list is the Australian Reed Warbler, which I did not see, but I heard last summer at Hays Paddock. Just once I recorded White-browed Scrubwren, again at Hays Paddock, but I have not managed to see them again. Masked Lapwing sometimes appear on the ovals, sometimes they fly overhead, calling. Recently I added Red-rumped Parrot and White-faced Heron to the list, which are lovely, but I'd really like to add some small passerines. I have planted natives in my front yard and I have both wattlebirds visiting every day. If I thought it would attract spinebills, I'd go against my principles and plant exotics (I tried Mexican sage at my Kew address - it didn't work!). If I thought Silvereyes would visit, I'd plant fruit trees. But I believe they would have to be in the vicinity to drop in. I'd have to conclude that, so far at least, the move back to Kew has been a success. I do enjoy being able to walk on footpaths. I enjoy being able to walk to the river. I love seeing magpies and Little Wattlebirds every day. I adore sighting the occasional Australian King Parrot and Laughing Kookaburra. It is special to see different lorikeets visit the flowering eucalypts and to mark the seasons with the appearance and disappearance of Welcome Swallows. And, perhaps because they are the last remaining small bird, I think the Brown Thornbills are very precious.

PETER WAANDERS WESTERN SPECIALTIES AND SPLITS TOUR MAY 2022

I have just returned from Peter Waanders Western Specialties and Splits tour - a remarkably successful trip. There were six of us on the tour and I believe all of us came away satisfied. We were all a bit disappointed that we did not visit the Arid Lands Botanic Gardens in Port Augusta, as this was mentioned on the itinerary and we'd been looking forward to it. However, that is a minor complaint in the great scheme of things and you can't often boast 100% success. Most people wanted photographs of birds which can be extremely difficult to see, let alone photograph. All I wanted was to see a Rufous Grasswren. I saw that - and a whole lot more. I'd done this tour before - in July 2017. On that occasion all I wanted to see was a Naretha Blueboneet. We had excellent views of bluebonnets so I came away quite pleased with myself on that occasion too. This time I needed the Rufous Grasswren, which wasn't recognized as a separate species in 2017. On this occasion the tour started in Adelaide, stayed overnight in Port Augusta, Kimba, Ceduna, Nullarbor, then back to Ceduna and finished with two nights in Port Lincoln. I saw a total of 105 birds for the trip. Others managed more: the trip total was 124. Of course the highlight for me was the Rufous Grasswren, my 830th Australian bird. It wasn't easy, but grasswren are usually notoriously difficult. My grasswren was in dense mallee in Yumbarra Conservation Park, and it took us a few hours of very patient looking and listening and waiting. I had a very good (but VERY brief) look at the bird. Peter Waanders made a disparaging remark about my sighting being merely 30 seconds, but in fact it was a lot less than that - perhaps 10 seconds, perhaps less. But it was a good unobstructed view of the whole bird in good light and I was very pleased. Afterwards I had several glimpses of the bird hopping between vegetation and I was quite delighted that I didn't have to rely on them to tick my lifer.

Apart from the Rufous Grasswren, I had wonderful views of the Western Grasswren at Wild Dog Hill in Whyalla Conservation Park. I had less perfect but still acceptable sightings of the Naretha Bluebonnet (not nearly as good as in 2017) and the White-bellied Whipbird (which we didn't see in 2017, but which I saw with Phil Maher in Innes National Park in 2011). Other great sightings were of Southern Scrubrobins, Rock Parrots, and Tawny-crowned and Purple-gaped Honeyeaters. We glimpsed Southern Emuwren, enough to admire the male's pretty blue throat, but not really a good enough look had it been a lifer. I was interested to watch Inland Thornbills with their cocked tails - I'd forgotten this behaviour. We had wonderful sightings of Western Yellow Robins on more than one occasion, although we initially had some difficulty in locating one. Major Mitchell's Cockatoos are always spectacular - even the western race without yellow in the crest. Of course we saw quailthrush - both Nullarbor and Copperback. We had poor views of Nullarbor Quailthrush at night, then saw nine more the following morning. I'm afraid it was a matter of quantity not quality: none of my sightings were particularly good. However, I had the best possible views of a family of Copperback Quailthrush - parents with a young bird still sporting some down and being fed by its parents. We also had a fascinating experience when we were looking for the Copperbacks. We heard the call. It sounded fine to my amateur ears, but Peter Waanders shook his head doubtfully: 'It doesn't sound quite right,' he declared. We tracked it down and, sure enough, the quailthrush call was coming from a young Striated Pardalote! Apart from birdlife there were two interesting phenomena on this trip. One was seeing fogbows, which we did twice. The other was: there was water in Lake Gilles. I'm not sure how often this salt lake actually contains water - I've never seen it before - but insects were attracted to it, and large numbers of Black-faced Cuckooshrikes were attracted to the insects. We saw dozens and dozens of the empty shells from the insects (like miniature empty cicada shells) by the shore of the lake.

Altogether a great trip. What better way to spend a week in May?

BIRDING IN EYNESBURY

 Yesterday, I spent a very pleasant (if a bit windy) afternoon birding in Eynesbury.

Eynesbury bushland

Eynesbury is located 44 kilometres west of Melbourne.  There's a golf course, a lake and some beautiful bushland and I've always thought it would be a great place to live.

My honeyeater list is very sparse this year and I thought I'd like to expand it a little.  As soon as I got out of the car and heard the cacophony of lorikeet calls, I knew there were a lot of flowering eucalypts and I expected to see quite a few honeyeaters.  How wrong I was!  Quite a few lorikeets was what there were!  Both Little and Purple-crowned by the dozen.  The only honeyeaters I recorded were White-plumed, New Holland and Red Wattlebirds.  My hopes for Brown-headed, White-naped or Fuscous were dashed.  I had thought these birds would be easy.

Bird of the day was the Speckled Warbler, a magnificent pair posing on a dead stick.  These really are very special birds.  Next, I think, was the Jacky Winter.  I lost count of how many there were.  They posed cooperatively and I noticed a very faint lilac wash on the breast of more than one bird.  I'd never seen this before and when I consulted HANZAB later, there was no reference to it.  Third in line must be Diamond Firetails, always exquisite little birds.  A small flock wanted to get onto my list, but did not hang around.

I thought the Brown Goshawk was the only creature enjoying the wind, but perhaps the Tree Martins and Dusky Woodswallows did too.  After a short aerial display, the woodswallows  clustered together high in a gum tree as if settling down for an early night.

I did see some other small birds (Superb Fairywrens, Yellow-tailed Thornbills, Red-browed Finches) but I suspect I might have seen more had it not been for the wind.  My favourite bird, the Willie Wagtail, was not discouraged by the wind at all.  Nor were the many unusually colourful Grey Fantails darting around energetically.

It was Friday afternoon and traffic getting to and from Eynesbury was heavy.  Nevertheless, I clocked up over 50 species in a few hours in autumn, which isn't too bad.  More important, I had a great afternoon.  Let's face it, any afternoon I see a Speckled Warbler is a great afternoon.

NORDMANN'S GREENSHANK

 I've just been to Cairns and ticked the Nordmann's Greenshank!  

View from Cairns Esplanade

This is a bird I never expected to see in my lifetime.  It is wonderful to chase a bird, to study it, to work out where and when to go to see it, then, perhaps after years of failed attempts, finally to succeed.  But it is sometimes just as good to come across a bird quite by accident, as I did with the Glossy Black Cockatoo in Cranbourne recently.  However, there is a lot to be said for the successful twitch.  Someone finds a rarity and is generous enough to share it.  You pack your bags and, often with a deal of effort (and expense) you arrive at its destination, often a long, long way from home.  Will it still be there?  Will you have spent your time, effort and money in vain?  Or will all your stress and struggles be rewarded?  Oh, there's nothing quite like the adrenalin rush of success.

I did not race to Cairns immediately when the Nordmann's Greenshank was reported.  I waited until I thought my long trip would be rewarded.  When my friend, Ken, said he was driving to Cairns from Melbourne and that he'd ring me when he'd arrived and found the bird, I couldn't wait to hear from him, to know that the bird was there and tickable, to fly up and join him and have him point out my bird.  What an easy tick, I thought.  The bird had been there for months.  It would surely wait a few more days for me.  

I kept hearing stories of people who had missed the bird by a day, last year when it disappeared in May.  One birder reported missing the bird twice before being successful at last.  I really didn't want to fly to Cairns and dip.

Ken rang on Friday.  Yes, he'd arrived.  Yes, he'd seen the bird.

I couldn't wait.  I flew up on Monday and Ken met me at the airport.  Well, yes, he had seen the bird last Friday, but he hadn't seen it since.  He'd looked of course, but the bird had not shown itself again.  My heart fell.  Ken said that he'd done his best.  He had not been assisted by a large and noisy demonstration along the Cairns Esplanade on Saturday or by people walking their dog along the sand.

Ken and I walked up and down the Esplanade.  We examined every wader in sight.  We saw gotwits and knots, sand plovers and tattlers, a couple of Far Eastern Curlews and one single Terek Sandpiper.  An Eastern Osprey flew overhead.  Then a Black-necked Stork flapped by.  Normally this would be cause for celebration, but I was not in celebratory mood.  I thought I'd done everything to make this twitch foolproof.  I hadn't rushed off without thinking, I had bided my time and waited until I thought I was sure to see my bird.  I was in a grump.  A helpful local birder wanted to point out some Nankeen Night Herons and the northern race of Masked Lapwings.  Who was he kidding?  I hadn't flown to Cairns to see herons or plovers.  There was only one bird I wanted to see.

By Tuesday morning, my mood had changed.  I knew I'd be back in Cairns later in the year, and I could look again for the greenshank.  Meanwhile, I decided to enjoy my short stay and see as many birds as I could.  No sooner had I resigned myself to not seeing the bird, than it appeared!

Ken and I saw it amongst a group of waders, looking just as the text books had described, although I confess I found great difficulty in seeing the two-toned bill and the partially webbed toes.  We had a good inspection and convinced ourselves we had our identification correct.  A local birder came along to confirm what we already knew:  we had our bird.  Hooray!

We drank him in and enjoyed our success.  We congratulated each other as if we were the world's best birders.  We had succeeded where others had failed.  We basked in our superiority.  I no longer own a camera, but here's the best my phone could do.  He's the third on the left. And now here's what a professional can do. These photos were taken by Ken Haines.

GLOSSY BLACK COCKATOO IN CRANBOURNE!

 If you'd asked me last week where in Victoria to go to see a Glossy Black Cockatoo, I'd have said that you should go to Gipsy Point or Mallacoota.  I'd still say that.  However, last Friday, I saw one at Cranbourne Botanic Gardens, about 400 kilometres west of their accepted range.

Glossy Black Cockatoo, photo by Graham Barwell

On our way home from Toora, basking in our successful Hudsonian Whimbrel twitch, Graham Barwell and I decided on a short birding stopover at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Cranbourne.  These gardens just squeak into the 100 best birdwatching  sites in Australia, coming in at number 98.  We were there for just a couple of hours, and recorded just 20 species.  Sadly, we did not see any bandicoots.

But, who's complaining?  We saw something far more exciting than a bandicoot.  At the junction of Trig Track and Possum Gully Walk, we saw this handsome male Glossy Black Cockatoo.  We tried to identify the species of casuarina he was enjoying, and the best we could do (let's be honest, the best Graham could do, I can take no credit) was that it was either Casurarina paludosa or C. pusilla.  Neither of these plants is mentioned in HANZAB as a food source for Glossy Black Cockatoos, which is possibly explained by the fact that the bird was 400 kilometres outside his range.

I had heard that some Glossy Black Cockatoos were displaced by the bushfires in Mallacoota and had been seen in Victoria, but I confess I was a little sceptical.  Not that they'd been seen in Victoria, but that they were still here.  I figured if the fires had forced them to fly west, that when it came time for them to migrate north, they would just fly north, whether from Mallacoota, or from central Victoria.  Apparently I was wrong.  The fires were in the summer of 2019/2020, more than two years ago.  Evidently, the birds were so stressed by their bushfire displacement (or they found some irresistible new delicious casurarina to eat) that they decided to stay put.  And who can blame them?  I don't know how many Glossy Blacks ventured west, but I'm told that just three or four remain.  As far as we could tell, this fellow was by himself.

Other birds we recorded included a couple of raptors (Brown Goshawk, Peregrine Falcon), some honeyeaters (Eastern Spinebill, New Holland, White-eared, White-plumed and Red and Little Wattlebirds), some very fine Common Bronzewings and some Red-browed Finches (which, I fear, are becoming rarer around Melbourne).  But nothing quite got our hearts pumping like this beautiful Glossy Black Cockatoo.

TOORA AGAIN

 An interstate friend had tried once for the Hudsonian Whimbrel and failed, and decided to try again.  I was delighted for an excuse to get the bird onto my 2022 list, so grabbed at the opportunity to accompany him to Toora.  The best thing about this was, he did all the homework.  He studied the tide times and booked the motel.  All I had to do was to tag along.  I picked him up at Avalon airport and we had a pleasant drive down to Gippsland.

One of the best things about a twitch is the interesting birders you meet at the site.  There are usually people you know and haven't seen for years, people you've heard of and always wanted to meet, and other, new birders, each with their own tales to tell.  In fact, I met one of my best birding companions at a twitch:  PJ.  I met him at Lake Tutchewop in November 2014, where we rewarded with the Long-billed Dowitcher on our second drive up from Melbourne.  PJ and I had some wonderful twitches together after that, including the South Island Oystercatcher and the Aleutian Tern.

On this occasion, there were several fascinating birders in the Toora birdhide, waiting for the whimbrel to appear.  There was a young Kiwi who had packed in his job, and planned to spend a year travelling and birding Australia.  What an adventure!  And there were several local birders from Foster, all with memorable birdy anecdotes.  We happily whiled away the time until a flock of whimbrels appeared.

View from Toora birdhide

We had compiled a short birdlist before the whimbrels put in their appearance.  We were entertained by a White-bellied Sea Eagle and both Sooty and Pied Oystercatchers.  There were several Pacific Gulls, in immaculate plumage.  Best of all were two Caspian Terns with their youngster.  And there were several small passerines hopping around amongst the mangroves:  fairywrens, fantails, Silvereyes and Brown Thornbills.  Forest Ravens flew by, helpfully calling to ensure they were noticed.  

Then, at last, eight whimbrels flew in.  One of the locals informed us that the previous afternoon, there had been a flock of eight whimbrels, which comprised seven Eurasian Whimbrels plus the much desired Hudsonian.  Needless to say, the whimbrels had our full attention.  Scopes were focused.  Chatter ceased.  It didn't take long.

The cry went up.  'Third from the left!'  Great excitement!  We all noted the more obvious white eyebrow, the slightly different shaped bill, and slightly larger size.  Later, we were to observe the darker tail and underwings.

A successful twitch is always cause for celebration, and a twitch that succeeds on the second attempt has twice the reason to rejoice.  A bottle of bubby at the Foster pub was duly appreciated.

BIRDING THE MORNINGTON PENINSULA

Yesterday morning, I birded the Mornington Peninsula, ending up with 72 species, which wasn't bad given the grey skies and sporadic rain.  The highlight was an unexpected Bassian Thrush which I saw at Balbirooroo Wetlands in Balnarring.

I started at West Heads in Flinders, watching a Black-shouldered Kite attack a White-bellied Sea Eagle.  Three Sooty Oystercatchers landed on the shore below and immediately disappeared amongst the rocks.  The next noteworthy sighting was an Australian Hobby struggling against the wind.  

Driving back towards the township, lots of Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos had fun making a mess, leaving a carpet of dropped cones and twigs beneath the pine trees.  A couple of currawongs confused me; I initially thought they were Grey, but on closer inspection, they turned out to be my 'normal' Pied.

I expected some good waterbirds at Balbirooroo Wetlands, but, surprisingly, the best birds were all bush birds.  There were literally dozens of Grey Fantails.  (Lovely photo above my Ken Haines, who wasn't there!)  I never get sick of them.  There were both male and female Australian Golden Whistlers, several White-browed Scrubwren and Superb Fairywren, Spotted Pardalote and Brown Thornbill.  A (or perhaps more than one) Horsfield's Bronze Cuckoo drove me mad, calling from a distance, but not showing himself.  I could picture him, hiding behind a branch, giggling and poking his tongue out at me.  Finally, he flew down to gloat, and I had satisfactory views.  Despite many flowering eucalypts, my honeyeater list was not huge:  White-plumed, New Holland and White-eared, as well as the inevitable Noisy Miners and Red and Little Wattlebirds.  As I say, the waterbirds did not dominate.  There were swans, moorhens, coots, cormorants, Australasian Grebes, Pacific Black Ducks and I did manage to add a Black-fronted Dotterel to the list.

Then it was on to the Langwarrin Flora and Fauna Reserve, where I had heard that Glossy Black Cockatoos had been seen.  Sadly, not by me.  There were few casuarinas, so I wasn't sure where to look.  This was a pleasant spot, but I didn't add much to my list.

Last stop was the Boundary Road Wetlands (above), opposite the Frankston Clay Target Club, quite a noisy neighbour.  Here there were quite a few waders, many of them colouring up beautifully.  They were 98% Sharp-tailed Sandpipers, with just a handful of Curlew Sandpipers and Red-necked Stints to keep me on my toes.  There were more dotterels here, too, and both Royal and Yellow-billed Spoonbills.  A few Pied Stilts, a couple of pelicans and some duck, mainly Chestnut Teal, but also just enough Grey Teal sprinkled among them to make sure I had a good look.  A Swamp Harrier took pleasure in disrupting this peaceful scene, but luckily, having had his fun, he disappeared.

I reckon over 70 species for a morning's work is quite satisfactory, especially when it includes a Bassian Thrush, and a few of my favourites like black cockies and White-eared Honeyeaters.

KIAMA - AGAIN

 I have just returned from my annual pilgrimage to Kiama, attempting, and failing as usual, to see a White-necked Petrel.  This was my 23rd attempt.

Again, I benefitted from being driven to Kiama by Ken Haines (thanks, Ken!) so while the main purpose of the trip was a total failure, we did have some fun birding along the way.

We spent the first night, as on our previous trip, at the Glenrowan Caravan Park, to admire the Turquoise Parrots.  They were still there, in big numbers, although they did not show themselves until dusk and, had it been my first view of these gorgeous parrots, it would have been very disappointing to see them in the half light.

The next day we had lunch at Fitzroy Falls and I had no regrets that I had deleted this site from the second edition of 100 Best Birdwatching Sites in Australia.  The falls were spectacular, of course, but the countryside was extremely dry and the birds appeared to be non-existent.  After lunch we drove on to Bomaderry and visited Bangalee Reserve.  The most interesting thing here was not the birds at all, but an enormous bunya pine.

Then it was on to Bomaderry Creek, a supposedly guaranteed spot for Rockwarblers.  Not only were there no Rockwarblers, there were no birds at all!

On the following day, we started the day at Barren Grounds, as Ken was hoping to photograph Eastern Bristlebirds.  I reckon I see bristlebirds here about 50% of the time.  Naturally, this was one of my unsuccessful trips.  I did see some beautiful red-bellied skinks, and Ken photographed some fantastic Southern Emu-wrens.

At Minnamurra Rainforest Walk ($12 parking fee) I found the walk disappointingly steep.  Nevertheless, we saw one very vocal Superb Lyrebird, one sleepy wallaby and one very friendly water dragon.  That afternoon we searched for a Black Bittern in Bomaderry, where it had recently been seen in a creek behind Emerald Drive.  Consistent with the luck we were having, of course we dipped on the bittern.  We did see some Variegated Fairywrens, several Common Bronzewings and one immature Nankeen Night Heron.

Then it was Saturday.  Time for the pelagic.  Surely my luck would change now.  I had not travelled to Kiama in 2021.  And they saw the bird.  Of course.

I call the pelagic a total failure, and that is no exaggeration.  It was, without doubt, the worst pelagic I've ever been on.  As I dressed that morning, I debated with myself whether or not I'd wear my wet gear. After all, it was February, it would not be too cold.  If I got splashed a little, I'd soon dry out.  Luckily, my conservative nature won, and I did wear my wet gear:  pants and jacket.  Just as well, it was very rough, people brave enough to try to stand up on the boat were only able to stagger.  As always, I remained seated, hanging on for dear life.  I was sitting with my back to the spray, constantly being engulfed in freezing waves.  I was very soon wet to the skin, and shivering with cold.  The captain took pity on me and offered me a warm jacket.  Stupidly, I said I was fine (which clearly I was not) and soldiered on.  The next time he offered, I jumped at the chance.  I ventured inside the cabin, something I've never done before on a pelagic, and spent the rest of the day thawing out and enjoying birdy reminiscences with fellow passengers.

Ken was as disappointed as I was at the absence of White-necked Petrels, but he did manage to photograph this handsome Buller's Albatross (above) and this cooperative Fluttering Shearwater (below).

I plan to return to Kiama next February, to try again for my White-necked Petrel, but I do wonder, how many times is it statistically possible to dip on a bird that is officially classified as seen frequently?

BANYULE

This morning I visited Banyule for the first time this year.  As I drove down Burke Road, I pondered that my bird total for the year was presently 97 and it would be good if I could manage to add three new species to that list this morning.

At Banyule, I parked in the carpark and set off immediately for the Grotty Pond.  Birders know the Grotty Pond because a female Australian Painted Snipe famously turned up here in November 2001.  Today, my expectations were much more modest.  I was hoping for a Buff-banded Rail, but a Latham's Snipe would do.  In days gone by, I often saw Latham's Snipe at Banyule, but it's been a while since I've seen one here.  Alas!  When I reached the Grotty Pond, I saw that the reeds had grown and it was impossible to view the water or its all-important edges from the walking track.  I was surprised to see this as it is not very long since I've visited this spot, and admired Dusky Moorhen at the water's edge together with their cute fluffy black young.  There would be no rails, no snipe and no moorhen today.

I walked back to the lake (pictured above).  Here, again, there was a surprise for me.  The lake had evaporated significantly, leaving some inviting muddy banks, perfect for dotterels I thought.  Evidently the dotterels disagreed.  There were lots of Masked Lapwing, some Pacific Black Duck, quite a few Silver Gulls, one pair of Australasian Grebes, one pair of Chestnut Teal, some Eurasian Coots and some Dusky Moorhens, but no dotterels.

I set off for the river, where there used to be a reliable colony of Bell Miners.  I was thinking of all the easy birds I hadn't yet seen this year:  New Holland Honeyeaters, Eastern Yellow Robins, Spotted Pardalotes.  Surely I could find just three this morning.  Then, out of the blue, without a sound, a Sacred Kingfisher flew to greet me.  He sat right in front of me, wanting to be admired.  I was happy to comply.  Tick.  Number 98 for the year.

My spirits lifted considerably.  At the river, I heard a Grey Shrike-thrush and saw Brown Thornbills, Superb Fairywrens, lots of Grey Fantails and a couple of White-browed Scrubwren.  I did not see any Powerful Owls.  Nor did I see any Eastern Yellow Robins - what an easy bird to be missing!

I walked past the windmill and took the turn back to the main walking track.  There were too many Noisy Miners (of course!) and plenty of Red Wattlebirds, but no hint of robins or Mistletoebirds or indeed anything else I was missing from my list.

Disappointed, I thought I'd go home, but instead, I turned to the right and wandered down to the bridge.  How many years ago were Owlet-nightjars seen here?  I turned to go home, thinking I'd have to be satisfied with a bird total of 98, then a pair of Australian King Parrots (pictured below) flushed from the bushes by the river.  Excellent.  Number 99.

Immediately, from the direction of the golf course, I heard Little Corellas.  I have difficulty discerning the calls of corellas, but I was sure this call was Little, not Long-billed.  I searched the gum trees over the creek, and, sure enough, there were several Little Corellas.  Number 100.  I could go home happy.

In my abysmal birding year of 2021, it took until May for me to reach the grand total of 100 species.  In 2022, I had it on 18 January.  Hooray!  Perhaps things are looking up.

WONDERFUL WERRIBEE!

 Yesterday I went to Werribee, the first time since it re-opened after lockdown.  I had only a couple of hours, but I clocked up 70 species and it was wonderful!

The weather forecast was for thunderstorms, so I took a raincoat, but I didn't need it.  There was some spectacular forked lightning, looking terrific with the You Yangs as a backdrop, and some very loud thunder, but very few drops of rain.  The thunder was interesting because of the reaction of the birds.  Thousands and thousands of shelduck took to the air, in response to a loud clap of thunder.  In fact none of the birds liked it at all.  A flock of sandpipers took fright in front of me, just as I was enjoying them.  I don't remember ever witnessing birds' reaction to thunder before.

I started my visit at the far end of Point Wilson Road, looking for Brolga, but there were none to be seen.  Next stop was the T-section where the shelduck put on their thunder display.  By the time I shut the gate to leave, I had a list of 41 species.  The best sightings were a Horsfield's Bushlark together with a Striated Fieldwren feeding a young bird (photographer's delight!) and a couple of cooperative Stubble Quail.  Apart from that, all the usual suspects were present:  ducks, pipits, skylarks, cormorants and Common Greenshanks.  I was ridiculously pleased to see a European Greenfinch, as I hadn't seen one for the whole of 2021.  One interesting omission from my list was a Eurasian Coot, often in big numbers here.

Next stop was the Western Lagoons where I was hoping to add crakes to my list.  I had no luck with crakes, but I did manage a magnificent White-bellied Sea-Eagle, three Blue-winged Parrots, a Brown Falcon, a scrubwren, some terns and waders and, best of all, five beautiful Brolgas.

Very pleased with my Brolgas, I drove along Beach Road to the jetty.  Here I scanned the bay for Australasian Gannets, then, successful, I drove back into the farm near Freckled Duck Rock.  It is a long time since I've seen Freckled Duck sitting on Freckled Duck Rock, but they used to be reliable, and I think the name will stick forever, with me at least.  Alas, there were no Freckled Duck yesterday.

Freckled Duck in days gone by with Freckled Ducks

I took the coast road to the bird hide, along the way adding Musk Duck and Blue-billed Duck to my list.  The tide was too far in to make visiting the bird hide worthwhile, so I continued on past Lake Borrie to Paradise Road.  I heard, but did not see, Little Grassbird.  An Australian Reed Warbler was more cooperative, flying along the road ahead of the car.  I saw just nine Pink-eared Ducks in a pond opposite Lake Borrie - the only pinkies for the day.

Just as I was leaving the farm, some Zebra Finches came to farewell me and I saw the only Whistling Kite of the day overhead (surprising omission until then).  Some Red-rumped Parrots flew into the gum trees, eager to get themselves onto my list.

There were far too many rabbits and one hare.  I was sorry I didn't see a Cape Barren Goose and I would have liked more waders.  I particularly missed avocets, but I didn't get to the Borrow Pits.  With only two hours, I did pretty well.  The Brolgas were beautiful, and I had excellent views of both the bushlark and the fieldwrens, but for me, the bird of the day was the Stubble Quail, which I hadn't seen since January 2014.  Altogether, it was a great couple of hours:  the best possible antidote to lockdown blues.