BIRD OF THE MONTH

BOM may mean Bureau of Meteorology to you. To me it means Bird of the Month. I make this personal award each month to the bird that has given me the most pleasure. It doesn't have to be a lifer; it doesn't have to be a rarity. Simply a bird that's given me pleasure. At the end of the year I have a list of twelve birds that evokes wonderful memories. Sometimes it is quite obvious which bird deserves the award. If, for example, I've seen a lifer. Sometimes it isn't quite so easy. But, so far at least, there's always been some bird that's given me please and warrants the accolade. In June, I wrote of my birds of the month so far for 2023. Now I can complete the year's list. It looks like this: JANUARY: COMMON KINGFISHER - lifer on Cocos. The thing that struck me most at the time about the kingfisher was how absolutely gorgeous it was. It was even more beautiful (if that's possible!) than our Azure Kingfisher. I hadn't expected that. Then, strangely, I saw another Common Kingfisher on Cocos again in November. It was a young bird and wasn't nearly so brightly coloured. I was very pleased that I'd seen the January bird and understood just how spectacular they can be. These birds have a very wide distribution throughout Europe and Asia, but it was a bird that I'd never expected to be able to write onto my Australian list.I took this photo from HBW and BirdLife International Illustrated Checklist of the Birds of the World:

FEBRUARY: WHITE-NECKED PETREL. This was a real bogey bird for me. I'd looked for it for many years with certainly well over twenty interstate trips for the purpose. And, when I eventually saw it, it was not an anticlimax: it was even more beautiful than I'd expected. This beautiful photo is by Paul Walbridge, who runs the Southport pelagics.

MARCH: EASTERN SPINEBILL I grew up with Eastern Spinebills in Ringwood. They used to be in Kew, where I live. Not any more. So, when a spinebill turned up in my neighbour's garden, it was cause for celebration. Unfortunately, seeing a spinebill in Kew today is a rare occasion. This lovely photo by Ken Haines, is not the bird in question.

APRIL: AUSTRALIAN CRAKE. This illustraion is from HANZAB. - an irruption at Werribee

MAY: OLIVE-BACKED ORIOLE A beautiful bird, well worth the appelation of Bird of the Month in its own right, but on this occasion, the award was made because the bird greeted in my street! It was sitting in the neighbour's silver birch. In May! This summer migrant should not have been in Melbourne in May, let alone in my suburban street. Again, this lovely photo by Ken Haines, is not the bird in question.

JUNE: DAME EDNA, FEMALE SUPERB FAIRYWREN This female Superb Fairywren with the diagnostic red around the eye, has the blue tail characteristic of a male bird. I refer any reader wanting to know more about this phenomenon to my blog posting of last June when I quoted Tim Birkhead on the subject. This photo, taken by Peter petinatos, shows the female Superb Fairywren, with a male's blue tail.

JULY: EASTERN GRASS OWL - at the Western Treatment Plant. You are not permitted to go into the farm at night, but I saw this owl while I was travelling on the public roads. It's the first Grass Owl I've ever seen in my home state. The photo is from CSIRO's Australian Bird Guide.

AUGUST: AUSTRALIAN GOLDEN WHISTLER I saw this bird on a BirdLife Australia weekday outing to Mullum Mullum. Yes, I know it is a common bird, but it was breathtakingly beautiful. Quite irrisitible. Again, this photo by Ken Haines is not the bird in question, but he's just as gorgeous!

SEPTEMBER: THICK-BILLED GRASSWREN race cowarie on Cowarie Station, a new race for me. This photo, which I've taken from HANZAB, volume 5, is not the right race. I couldn't find an illustration of race cowarie.

OCTOBER: GREAT CRESTED GREBE When I visited Lake Colac (on the way to Port Fairy) with Ken Haines, there were several pairs of Great Crested Grebes doing their mating dance. It was truly mesmerizing, something I'd heard about but had never witnessed before. This photo by Ken Haines is of the birds in question.

NOVEMBER: LARGE HAWK CUCKOO - lifer on Christmas Island. My trip to Christmas Island in 2023 was fun of course. Christmas Island is always fun. But, on the bird front, it was a little disappointing. I was delighted to score this lifer, quite unexpectedly, on a walk looking for a passerine someone had reported (which we did not see). I took this photo from a Lynx publication, the Birds of the Indonesian Archipelago.

DECEMBER: BAILLON'S CRAKE. Another Werribee irruption. This photo is by Ken Haines (what would I do without him?)

So here I am in 2024, full of hopeful expectations! I scored seven lifers last year (and the year before!) If I can get two this year, I'll be satisfied. Lifers are getting harder and harder to see! But, even if I don't see any at all, I'm sure I'll be able to achieve twelve lovely Birds of the Month to remember the year by.

WERRIBEE: VICTORIA'S TOP BIRDING SPOT

A Sydney birding friend once said: 'It's impossible to have a bad day at Werribee.' Of course he's right. It is, after all, Victoria's top birding spot.

My birding friend, Ken Haines, and I enjoyed a great day at Werribee last Thursday, persistent cold wind notwithstanding. We clocked up only 75 species, a little disappointing for summer I thought, but we had a most enjoyable day and saw some beautiful birds: what more do you want? The water levels were high just about everywhere, so there wasn't much suitable habitat for waders. We did see quite a few Sharp-tailed Sandpipers (see Ken's photo above, all photos on this page are from Ken) but other waders were all in small numbers. In fact we saw just one Red-capped Plover. There were a few stints and greenshanks and we saw some Marsh Sandpipers, but we had to look hard for Curlew Sandpipers. There were avocets and both kinds of stilts, Banded Stilts coming obligingly close to the car.

There were several Pied Oystercatchers, one with two half-grown chicks.

For Ken, the highlight of the day was a young Spotted Harrier.

For me, the highlight was a Baillon's Crake. I'm told they are easily seen in Victoria at the moment, but I always get a thrill out of seeing a crake, and Baillon's are always special.

We did quite well for ducks, with big numbers of Pink-eared Ducks and Australian Shelducks. The only duck we didn't see which I'd hoped for was a Freckled Duck. There were more White-necked Herons than usual, but we were really down on raptor numbers. We saw just one Brown Falcon as we were leaving, and only two Black Kites for the day. There was just one Black-shouldered Kite and very few Whistling Kites and hardly any Swamp Harriers. Ken may not appreciate my including this blurred photo of the young Spotted Harrier. The joke is that neither of us noticed the Brolgas behind him! We came home without Brolga on our list.

Thanks, Ken for a great day. And thanks for your terrific photos.

MY SIXTH TRIP TO THE COCOS/KEELING ISLANDS

After a successful week on Christmas Island, we flew to the Cocos/Keeling Islands feeling positive and optimistic. There was reportedly a Dark-sided Flycatcher somewhere on West Island and I was hoping to see the recently split Tibetan Sand Plover on South Island. This photo shows where we spent some time at Trannies Beach looking for an Asian Brown Flycatcher. I had good views, but others weren't so lucky.

The Northern Pintail (which I first saw on the remarkably successful December 2016 tour) has stayed around and bred with a Pacific Black Duck resulting in four hybrids, enough to confuse any birder. Thanks to one of our sharp-eyed birders we saw one hybrid on our first day on Cocos, as well as the Common Kingfisher I was so pleased to tick last January. I was surprised to see that this was a different bird sporting juvenile plumage. Of course there were Green Junglefowl everywhere on Cocos and several of the recently split Intermediate Egrets. We'd dipped on Asian Koels on Christmas and promptly rectified this deficit on Cocos. There are lots of Pacific Reef Herons (both white and grey morphs) and just a sprinkling of Western Reef Herons. Both Striated and Nankeen Night Herons are common. Lesser Frigatebirds are common too. I thought they outnumbered Great Frigatebirds significantly. There was just one Oriental Pratincole on the airport runway and I saw just one Cattle Egret too. I cannot confirm rumours of a Tree Pipit (a bird I'd seen here in December 2016). On the day we visited South Island for Saunders's Tern, I saw two Eurasian Curlews, lots of Whimbrels and Ruddy Turnstones and White Terns of course (these are abundant on Cocos) as well as two races of Greater Sand Plover: the nominate race which we see on mainland Australia, and race 'columbinus' with a much thinner bill, making it look like a Lesser Sand Plover. Sadly, I could not turn any of the sand plovers into Lesser of any sort. At the Transfer Station we saw a Common Redshank, a Black-tailed Godwit and a Grey-tailed Tattler, and lots of sticky slippery mud. Despite almost 11 hours of patient, hot, waiting and watching (2 hours on Wednesday, 3 on Thursday, over 2 on Saturday, 2 on Sunday and almost another 2 on Monday) I did not even glimpse the Dark-sided Flycatcher. This photo shows where I looked.

The contraption on the left is a cat trap, and I did see cat footprints on the sand here. Once, I saw something brown moving high in a bush and was momentarily excited, but it turned out to be a rat. So I came home with my record spoiled - I have no longer scored a lifer every time I've visited Cocos. I have a total of 28 lifers for 6 visits. Let's hope that next year is not quite so dry.

MY SEVENTH TRIP TO CHRISTMAS ISLAND

I had only 24 hours at home after my Northern Shriketit adventure before I was off to Christmas Island on a Richard Baxter tour. I'd arrived home from the Northern Territory late on Saturday night, spent Sunday worrying about what to pack and left for Perth early on Monday. At 3.30 on Tuesday afternoon I was disembarking at Christmas Island with nine fellow birders. I learnt immediately that the island was extremely dry and there were few vagrants. Of course I'd seen all the endemics on my first trip in 2005 and have been returning to Christmas Island ever since in the hope of seeing vagrants. Generally, I have not been disappointed. I have never visited without seeing at least one lifer, and have achieved a total of 26 on my previous six visits. This year I had heard that there was a Red-billed Tropicbird on Christmas in August and hoped that he'd stick around to greet me in November. Alas, he did not.

We didn't have a great deal of time for birding on Tuesday, the day we arrived, but we did manage to see (and identify!) both Christmas and Great Frigatebirds and both Red-footed and Brown Boobies as well as the spectacular Golden Bosunbird. No effort was required to add Christmas Imperial Pigeon and Island Thrush to the list and Eurasian Tree Sparrow is probably not worth mentioning. We saw White-breasted Waterhen (a bird I did not see at all on my first visit to the island, but which has become much more common since cat eradication has been taken seriously). They are not yet as common on Christmas as they are on Cocos, but they are very readily seen on Christmas nowadays. On Wednesday, again without effort, we added Christmas Swiftlets and White-eyes, then Java Sparrows and Abbott's Booby. This last entry brought my annual total to 400 birds, a target I always aim for, but which I do not always achieve. We also saw several goshawks (these days deemed to be just a race of Brown Goshawk) and Red-tailed and the white morph of White-tailed Tropicbirds (the same species as the aforementioned gorgeous Golden Bosunbird). On Thursday with a little effort we saw Red Junglefowl. Note that not every feral chook is a Red Junglefowl. We also saw Common Emerald Dove (a different species from the Pacific Emerald Dove on the mainland) and Lesser Frigatebird (not common on Christmas, easily seen on Cocos). Kestrels are common on Christmas Island. We saw Barn Swallows on the top of Phosphate Hill and Glossy Ibis on the oval. Oddly there is also an Australian White Ibis on Christmas at the moment - it's been resident for about eight months. This photo by Heather Alexander is me on the new impressive Margaret Knoll lookout.

On Thursday we did a boat trip to allow the more intrepid of our group to have a snorkel. They tell me the fish are colourful and stunning. I, on the other hand, sat on the boat and watched young boobies and frigatebirds swooping at the bright pink lure being dragged behind the boat. The next day some birders reported seeing a passerine with white wingbars (perhaps a Purple-backed Starling) so we all set off in search of it. We walked along an overgrown track admiring white-eyes and I thought we probably wouldn't be seeing any passerines. This was the same general area where I'd failed to see the Amur Stonechat last year, so I wasn't feeling very lucky. Suddenly everyone was looking up. A bird flying overhead looked as if it were going to land on a dead twig out in the open, but saw us at the last minute and changed its mind, twisting and flying off never to be seen again. Richard said it was a Large Hawk-Cuckoo (#842) so my record of always getting a lifer when I visit Christmas is still intact. Let's see if I can do the same on Cocos.

THE QUEST FOR THE NORTHERN SHRIKETIT

Some birds are easy. You just have to go to the right place at the right time and there they are. Try Island Thrush on Christmas Island or King Penguins on Macquarie Island. Some birds are difficult. I reckon seeing a Lewin's Rail or a Red-lored Whistler is always difficult. Some birds are virtually impossible. For many years, I felt that White-necked Petrels were in this category. But surely every vagrant counts as virtually impossible: there's nowhere you can go to see it; you just have to luck onto it or be fortunate enough to twitch it. While it does not qualify as 'virtually impossible', I'm here to tell you that the Northern Shriketit certainly isn't an easy bird.

When the IOC recently split the Crested Shriketit into the Eastern, Northern and Western, I found myself with two new birds to chase. I grew up with Eastern Shriketit. The first one I remember seeing was on a school excusion to the beach when I was 12 or 13 years old. Why the school saw fit to take us on an excursion to the beach I cannot imagine. But I remember the rest of the class was frolicking happily in the sea and I was wandering alone in the sand dunes quite bored, probably wishing I was back in the classroom doing algebra. Then I saw a breathtakingly beautiful bird - gorgeous bright yellow and black and white. A very striking bird in anyone's language. We called it an Eastern Shriketit in those days. Only later was it lumped to become the Crested Shriketit we've known until recently. Shriketits have been part of my life ever since. They were resident on my parents' property in north central Victoria. I remember sitting on a bench at Banyule catching up with birdy gossip with Richard Lloyn when his astute hearing picked up a shriketit above us tearing the bark from the trunk of a eucalypt. But I'd never seen either a Northern or a Western Shriketit. So now there were two new birds to chase, which was fine by me. I was planning to visit Christmas and Cocos in November, so I figured I could fit the Northern in beforehand and the Western on the way home. So it was that I found myself in Darwin with three other eager birds being escorted by Luke Paterson from Northern Territory Bird Specialists towards Katherine and the Central Arnhem Road. None of the shriketits has a conservation classification, but the Northern is sparsely distributed. We set off from Darwin at 6 a.m. on Wednesday. We had breakfast at Adelaide River and lunch in Katherine, and arrived at the spot where Northern Shriketit are sometimes seen by some select birders just before 4 p.m. It was hot, but we clambered out of the vehicle, eager with anticipation. We hadn't yet failed in our quest. Luke led us bush bashing to the north of the highway. There were few birds of any sort. I think we saw more wild donkeys than birds. We certainly saw more buffalo than birds. We did flush some Brown Quail, which sounded like horses snorting when they flew. We saw several Black-throated Treecreepers (both male and female) and a few Masked and Black-faced Woodswallows. Yellow-tinted Honeyeaters were numerous, but there was precious little else. At 6 o'clock we admitted defeat and returned to our motel, with not quite the enthusiastic optimism we had all exhibited at 6 o'clock that morning. We went spotlighting that night, targeting Chestnut-backed Buttonquail. It didn't occur to me not to join the group spotlighting, although I had assumed that we'd be looking for birds other than the buttonquail and I was surprised when Luke drove past a frogmouth without bothering to slow down or point it out. I guess noone was there to see a frogmouth. We didn't see any buttonquail either. It was a late night after an early start and we set off again at 5.30 the next morning, after having our sleep disturbed by heavy noisy rain in the night. Thursday was a new day and we greeted it with renewed optimism, telling ourselves that the rain would have freshened everything up and encouraged the shriketits to be more vocal and more visible. We left our Katherine motel at 5.30 and breakfasted at a roadside stop on Central Arnhem Road. We told each other that the water beside the road would encourage the birds. Then it started to rain again. Nevertheless by about 7 a.m. we were again looking for the shriketit, this time walking along the road rather than bush bashing. After about half an hour of this we looked a pathetic wet bedraggled bunch. Worse, there was no hint of shriketits. It was about then that I thought it had been a wasted trip and started wondering when it would be convenient for me to come back and try again. A Paperbark Flycatcher attacked a Sacred Kingfisher, but none of us thought it was worthy of mention. Quite undaunted, Luke left us in the rain and ran back to get the vehicle. We squelched aboard and Luke drove slowly, windows down, listening intently for the call of the shriketit that didn't come. After a while, we were out walking again, this time quite lacking in confidence. I must confess that I do not enjoy birding in the rain. I do not enjoy bush bashing in wet bush. I did my best not to be grumpy. Dutifully, we followed Luke, uncertain if it were all wasted effort. I don't remember how long it took. It cannot have been as long as my memory insists, but eventually, Luke heard a shriketit call. It was extremely faint and could have been quite a distance away. We all perked up immediately. Luke hurried towards the call and I did my best to keep up. Quite quickly he found the bird, a single male high in the canopy. We all saw it well; it was joined by a female. We followed the pair. The birds came down to eye level and we all had good looks, as this photo by the unforgettable Jim Sneddon attests.

It is always good to tick a new bird. It's especially good to tick a difficult bird, but it is perhaps even better to tick a bird when you have given up and accepted the trip was a failure and you'd have to try again some other time. Thank you, Luke! With the Northern Shriketit under my belt, I set off happily for Christmas and Cocos Islands, then, on the way home, I paused in Perth to try for the Western Shriketit. That was supposed to be a much easier bird. I had a lovely day in the bush with Des Hume, but, alas! there was no Western Shriketit for me. I should be pleased to have an excuse to visit the south west again, but I'm afraid I am simply frustrated that I have not ticked a supposedly easy bird!

A VERY DISAPPOINTING PORT FAIRY PELAGIC

My birding mate, Ken, drove me down to Port Fairy on Saturday in preparation for a pelagic on Sunday 8 October 2023. At Port Fairy, I heard a Greenfinch (but couldn't see it) and saw several Kelp Gulls.

We also saw a couple of Latham's Snipe in a pond (over the road from the Griffith Island carpark) where Neil Macumber said he'd seen 21 a couple of weeks before. On the pelagic on Sunday, aboard the 'Southern Explorer' I recorded 20 bird species, but only because I started my list before we left port and included such exciting birds as Magpie, Welcome Swallow, Starling, Australian Raven, Silver Gull, Australian White Ibis, Willie Wagtail (I lie! that's always exciting) Kelp Gull (again), Greater Crested Tern and both Pied and Sooty Oystercatchers. That's 12 of my day's 20 species. I saw lots (and lots) of Shy Albatross and Short-tailed Shearwaters, and quite a few Australasian Gannets. There were a handful of Northern Giant Petrels throughout the day - or else a couple kept returning over and over again. Other people on the boat glimpsed one Yellow-nosed and one Black-browed Albatross. I did not, but I had good brief views of one Northern Royal Albatross - the only bird I saw all day which was new for my year list.

There were a few Grey-faced Petrels and I think only one White-chinned Petrel and one Sooty Shearwater. Altogether a disappointing day, I'm sure you'll agree. Others were very excited to see three orcas, but I'm afraid I was there to admire birds not whales. On Monday, on the drive home to Melbourne, we stopped at Lake Colac in the hope of adding Freckled Duck to our weekend list. We were delighted to see about 200 of them, doing what Freckled Duck do, that is, precisely nothing. However, we could see no sign of breeding plumage. We must have been a little early for that. This beautiful photo is by Ken Haines. Indeed all these beautiful photos are by Ken Haines.

We also saw a very interesting Reed Warbler with an aberrant black throat marking. I've never seen that before, nor could I find any mention of it in any of my field guides. But by far the most exciting thing, which made the entire trip worthwhile and transformed what had been a wasted weekend into one of my most memorable birding experiences ever, was: dozens, yes, dozens of Great Crested Grebes. Several pairs were performing their synchronised mating dance. This is a spectacle I'd only ever seen before on film and it certainly lived up to my expectations. I found it literally breathtaking. The birds faced each other in the water. They turned their heads to the side in unison. They twisted their heads and touched their backs in a mirror image of each other. They dived underwater and he emerged with gifts of waterweed to present to his would-be mate. We watched enthralled as several pairs performed their ballet for us but, on each occasion, after the dance was over, the birds each went their separate ways. We didn't see any mating. The main breeding season of Great Crested Grebe (according to the 8th edition of Simpson and Day) is November-January, with possible casual breeding in October and February. So, at the beginning of October, these birds were just starting to think about breeding. Perhaps if we returned in a month's time, we might see some proper mating activity.

So instead of coming home disappointed at our inferior day at sea, Sunday was quite forgotten, and we arrived home thrilled at our most memorable sighting of Great Crested Grebes.

BIRDSVILLE TRACK AND MORE

I have just returned from a great trip with Peter Waanders. We started at Mt Isa and finished in Adelaide. I saw 161 birds. We saw a few animals (surprisingly few kangaroos, some euros and wallabies, dingoes and a spectacular display of half a million Little Red Flying Foxes leaving their caves at sunset in Mt Isa) and a few reptiles (one snake, several lizards). There were seven participants and two leaders on the trip. For me, the bird of the trip was the Thick-billed Grasswren race cowarie, a new race for me. Everyone's choice would be individual of course, but my bird of the day was as follows: Friday: Carpentarian Grasswren, excellent views; Saturday: Latham's Snipe at Lake Moondarah; Sunday: Letter-winged Kites, several at Belle Vista Floodplain; Monday: Grey Falcon in flight, not a perfect view, but a beautiful bird; Tuesday: Thick-billed Grasswren race cowarie, a new race for me; Wednesday: Eyrean Grasswren, several excellent if fleeting views; Thursday: Black-breasted Buzzard; Friday: Hooded Robin, sitting cooperatively on top of a tree at Jarvis Hill in Hawker.

Peter called the tour 'Grey Falcon and Letter-winged Kite tour' and so naturally, we saw both these birds. Here's the tower the falcons were roosting in.

Without a camera, here's the best digiscope of a Grey Falcon I could manage (or, more accurately, Peter could manage on my behalf with my phone!):

Here's the best I could do with three Letter-winged Kites roosting in a tree (see them? top right)

And here's a pellet from a Letter-winged Kite that was pulled apart to reveal a beautiful, tiny foot!

A great trip, great birds, great company, great country.

COMINGS AND GOINGS

Spring is in the air. As I opened my front door this morning, I was greeted by three things simultaneously: a magpie carolling; a Red Wattlebird, which had been feeding in my grevillea, flying to freedom in the neighbours' yard; and, for the first time ever, actually on my front doorstep, a Welcome Swallow swooping around my head. We've had a few swallows overwinter this year, but I reckon this fellow had just arrived. He was swooping joyously, and was soon joined by several mates. Then a blackbird sat up high and sung his heart out. It was the first morning for a long time that I hadn't worn gloves on my morning walk. Although spring is officially another eleven days away, I can already feel it in the air. I have a girlfriend in Canada who told me that she loves the change of seasons. When she said this to me some fifty years ago, I had to stop and consider. I'd never really thought about it. I look forward to the summer migrants of course, and I'm sorry when they depart, but I'd never really given much thought to the changing seasons. If I lived in Canada, I'm sure it would be different. Here, changing seasons are not quite so noticeable as in Canada, but still the birds come and go. They are not all migrants. Some are nomads and others seem to be changing their distribution, whether because of climate change or for other reasons. We had an Olive-backed Oriole overwinter this year. In truth, there were a pair of them. They called throughout winter, and I imagined the displaced summer call to sound melancholy in the depth of winter. Once, years ago, I saw a male Rufous Whistler that overwintered. He seemed quite out of place. I expect, with global warming, there will be more and more strange overwintering interlopers. Occasionally, for no apparent reason, I am delighted to see Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos here. The other day, 33 wailed overhead as I walked down High Street. It was wonderful! Recently, we have been lucky to enjoy some Gang Gang Cockatoos. They arrived in July and I'm pleased to report that they're still here in August. They must be one of my favourite birds. What a delight!

This week I saw an Australasian Swamphen at Hay's Paddock. I used to see them there regularly. But they disappeared sometime last October. Each time I go to Hay's Paddock, I look for them. They haven't abandoned Melbourne: they are still commmon elsewhere. Then, this week, hooray! they are back. They are nomadic, so I have no right to complain when they disappear.

The Australian King Parrot is a bird which has arrived here recently. They are very beautiful, but they were never a rare bird. My brother has them daily in his garden in Eltham. However, I didn't see them in Kew. I saw my first King Parrot in Kew (from memory) early this century. I thought it must be an escaped cage bird, so I rang Mike Carter. He said, no, King Parrots were extending their range, and, sure enough, now, some twenty years later, they are resident in Kew. I see them just about every day. I try not to be surprised when new young birders don't know that Crested Pigeons are new to Melbourne. I remember watching them in the 1980's at Erldunda and admiring their pretty pink feet and loving the pattern they made in the red sand. I never dreamed that they'd one day become a common bird in the suburbs. From memory, they arrived in Kew shortly after I did, in 1994. Another bird that arrived in Melbourne after I did is the Eastern Cattle Egret. It is uncertain whether they self-introduced from Asia, or whether birds introduced to the Kimberley in 1933 to eat ticks from cattle, spread throughout the continent. I prefer to believe that they self-introduced. The 'Atlas of Australian Birds' shows them present in the Northern Territory and Queensland before 1901, and they were in Victoria by the 1950's. This photo is by Brook Whylie and shows his sexy orange breeding plumage.

I look forward to the full glories of spring: more warmth, more sunshine, and, best of all, more birds.

WERRIBEE'S WESTERN TREATMENT PLANT

There is no doubt that the Western Treatment Plant at Werribee is Victoria's best birding spot. Other states can argue about their best spot; in Victoria, Werribee is such a superb place that there is no room for debate. I visited Werribee on Tuesday this week and I had a wonderful day.

As I left home, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. This did not last. It was very cold all day. Every time I had to open or close a gate, the rain squalled. The wind kept many of the small birds under cover. I came home disappointed that I had not seen Striated Fieldwren, Greenfinch or Zebra Finch. I also dipped on Freckled Duck and Great Crested Grebe. But I did see 72 species, including 8 Brolga and more Australasian Swamphen than I ever remember seeing in one place. There must have been thousands of them.

The last time I visited Werribee - in April on my unsuccessful Black Tern twitch - I saw lots of Australian Crakes. This time, I saw none. I had a wishlist of course: a list of birds I hoped to see that I had not yet seen in 2023. They included a couple of 'easy' birds that I expected to see, and several difficult birds that I hoped to see, but didn't really expect to. The easy birds were Eurasian Skylark and Yellow-billed Spoonbill. Of course I saw (and heard) several skylarks throughout the day, weather notwithstanding. The spoonbill was more difficult. I saw some Royal Spoonbills, but a Yellow-billed proved to be harder than I'd expected. I did see one in the end, just one bird, flying overhead, which could have been missed easily. So-called 'easy' birds aren't always easy! I managed to see two of my difficult birds: Black-tailed Nativehen (two birds hiding under shubbery on the river crossing) and best bird of the day, an Australasian Bittern! With an estimated total population of 1,300, Australasian Bitterns are endangered and it is always a thrill to see one. This bird flushed and flew away quickly, never to be seen again.

Raptors performed well throughout the day, with lots of Black Kites and Swamp Harriers (such as the one pictured). There were several Black-shouldered Kites, Whistling Kites and Brown Falcons and just one Brown Goshawk. Alas no Black Falcon which I had rather rashly put on my wishlist. Two birds I did see that were new to the year, but hadn't made it onto my list because I thought seeing them was so unlikely, were: Horsfield's Bronze Cuckoo and Caspian Tern. I thought it unlikely to see a cuckoo in July (in fact I also saw a Fan-tailed Cuckoo on the Point Wilson Road). This was the first Caspian Tern I've seen at Werribee this century. I'm sorry I dipped on Double-banded Plover and Striated Fieldwren. I've no doubt someone with better eyes would have scored both. But I did see both Red-browed Finches and Yellow-rumped Thornbills These birds used to be very common, but I find they are becoming more and more difficult to add to my list. It is possible that my count of eight Brolgas included some duplication, and there were in fact only six birds. What I actually saw was a pair of Brolga on four separate occasions. I am sure, however, that there were at least six. One bird was sitting on a nest, with her mate standing close by. The others were well spread throughout the farm, and I believe that there really were eight different birds. It was a great day. In winter, on a cold, windy day, a total of 72 species is fine by me, especially when it includes one Australasian Bittern.

BIRD OF THE MONTH

Each month I like to select the bird that has given me the most pleasure and reward it by calling it my Bird of the Month. Sometimes it is easy (for example, if I get a lifer); sometimes it is difficult (if I haven't seen anything special). Most months it is surprisingly easy. Birds tend to self select. However, winter in Melbourne can be hard. Mostly, I enjoy the process. I go through the birds I've seen, I remember good trips. It is fun. So far, this year has been a mixed bunch. January was easy. I saw a Common Kingfisher on Cocos - a lifer, and an exceptionally beautiful bird. February was even easier. I saw the White-necked Petrel, a bird I had been wanting to see for decades. It was bigger and even more beautiful than I'd been led to believe. March was not so obvious. In the end I settled on an Eastern Spinebill - not a rare bird, but to me a special one nonetheless. I grew up with spinebills in my backyard in Ringwood and I have been sorely lamenting the fact that, despite all my native planting for that very purpose, they have refused to turn up in my new garden in East Kew. In March I saw one, just fleetingly admittedly, but I saw one unambiguously in the garden next door. Good enough for Bird of the Month for me!

This lovely photo by Ken Haines is not of the bird next door, but I couldn't tell the difference. (All the birds in Victoria are the same race.) The winner for April again was not obvious. I'd been to Werribee, hoping for a Black Tern, which, unfortunately, I did not see. But that day I had been struck by the large number of Australian Crakes. They all wanted to say hello. I think of crakes as being secretive and shy. These birds were not. I've always loved crakes and rails and I do not see them every month. On reflection, the crake was a clear winner. In the end May was easy, despite a large number of excellent contenders. I went to Sherbrooke and saw several Superb Lyrebirds. I saw Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos at Hay's Paddock. I visited Kamarooka and saw lots of wonderful birds, each worthy of being awarded Bird of the Month. There were honeyeaters (Purple-gaped, Tawny-crowned, White-eared and more), Red-capped Robins, Purple-backed Fairywrens, Shy Heathwrens, Crested Bellbird and (a most worthy nomination) Western Whistlers that I didn't know occurred in Victoria. So May was already spoiled for choice when I saw my clear winner: an Olive-backed Oriole in my street. It was sitting on top of a silver birch singing its heart out. In May! These summer migrants should be far north by May, certainly not sitting in my street singing. Another clear winner.

Again, the photo is by Ken Haines and again, it is not the bird in question. However, it is a Victorian Olive-backed Oriole so it is near enough for me. Now as June comes to a close, I am considering who deserves my award this month. I have been to Eden where I admired five species of albatross, each one worthy of Bird of the Month appellation. I saw friendly Buff-banded Rail at Eden, and, even better, Southern Emu-wren. En route I saw Spotted Quail-thrush and, again at Eden, I saw a magnificent white Grey Goshawk. Plenty to choose from. But the winner is none of these. The winner is Dame Edna! A bird I have been wanting to see ever since I heard of her existence. She lives in Royal Park and I look for her each time I visit. This time I saw her. She is an old female Superb Fairywren with a male's blue tail. I have been told that the experts think this is due to her age and an excessive build up of testosterone over the years. This fascinated me, as (in my ignorance) I had not heard of it before. I just happen to be reading 'The Wisdom of Birds' by Tim Birkhead (which I thoroughly recommend by the way) and came across a passage discussing just this issue: female birds exhibiting male characteristics. Here's the relevant bit (from page 282): 'Science is often sexist and, perhaps not surprisingly, until recently it was widely assumed that male hormones controlled male sexual traits - like a cockerel's plumes. The truth is that many male characteristics are determined not by the male hormone testosterone, but by the absence of the female hormone, oestrogen. Typically, males do not secrete oestrogen (or at least not very much), and consequently produce male plumage. Females secrete oestrogen and develop female plumage. A female with a diseased ovary that ceases to produce oestrogen reverts to the default situation of male plumage.' Fascinating. Whatever the cause, Dame Edna is the clear winner for June. And here she is:

The photo is by Peter Petinatos, and you can see that she has a female's orange eye-ring and a male's blue tail. So, so far at least, winter has not been difficult for selecting my Bird of the Month. Fingers crossed for July!