Ian Fraser, talking naturally

This may be of little interest to anybody, but I find constantly that people are visiting older postings, so I skim through them a couple of times a year and update as required. Mostly this means replacing pictures with better ones, or adding to postings as more pics become available.

Here, in the perennially popular posting on Wildlife of Machu Picchu, I've added four more photos of different organisms. Links to images (without captions) here, here and here.
Here, in a posting on millipedes, I've added three photos from Borneo. Links to images (without captions) here, here and here.
Here, in a posting on flightless birds, I've added a photo of the Titicaca Grebe. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on colubrid snakes, I've added two photos, from Borneo and Queensland. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on the Lichenostomus honeyeaters, I've added a photo of Varied Honeyeaters. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on South American flamingoes, I've added a photo of Andean Flamingo. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on camouflage in vertebrates, I've added a photo of a very camouflaged Peruvian frog. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on camouflage in invertebrates, I've added a photo of a near-invisible Bornean ghost crab. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on botanist Charles Moore, I've added a photo of Citronella moorei. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on dragon lizards, I've added a photo of a Frill-necked Lizard. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on kingfishers, I've added a photo of Oriental Dwarf Kingfisher. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on bottle trees and kurrajongs, I've added photos of vine scrub and deciduous bottle trees. Link to images (without captions) here and here.
Here, in a posting on kangaroos, I've added a photo of a Whiptail Wallaby. Link to image (without caption) here.
Here, in a posting on Australian robins, I've added a photo of a male Rose Robin. Link to image (without caption) here.

For me at least, one of the highlights of a visit to the far south of South America - loosely known as Patagonia, incorporating the southern extremities of Chile and Argentina - is the presence across the landscape of flocks of big geese. I well recall my first visit to Patagonia, getting a hire car early on Sunday morning and heading out of Punta Arenas to drive along the Strait of Magellan - an amazing experience in itself. I was concentrating on driving on the 'wrong' side of the road for the first time when I suddenly saw a flock of Upland Geese in a wet paddock near the road and risked a rapid U-turn. In the event I needn't have - the next flock was only just down the road, and the next soon after that, and so on. But I was rapt.

Upland Geese Chloephaga picta near Punta Arenas.
This species is dramatically sexually dimorphic; males are black and white with black legs,
while females are rusty brown with orange legs.

This dimorphism doesn't end there either - the males come in two forms, which can be seen in the same flock.

The barred morph has densely black-barred breast and belly. It is commonest around
the Strait of Magellan, including on Tierra del Fuego.
This one was on Isla Magdalena, which is a Chilean island in the famous strait.

The white-breasted form becomes commoner further north - this is in
Torres del Paine National Park.

OK, back to the indicator in the title that these aren't really geese - and they're not, despite the protestations of my good friend Jorge from Chiloé! They are in the same sub-group as the shelducks - whether this is the tribe Tadornini or the slightly more prestigious sub-family Tadorninae is a debate I'll leave for those with more information and more time than I.

There are four members of the genus Chloephaga, all from the cold wind-swept south. All are essentially vegetarian, concentrating - with one interesting exception - on stems and seed heads of grasses and sedges; it is suspected that they are important vectors of these seeds.

The exception is the surprising Kelp Goose C. hybrida, which lives right in the sea spray, on the often stormy rocky shores and shingle beaches of Patagonia. It does so because it lives almost exclusively on sea weeds (though grazes on grass when breeding on freshwater lakes).

Kelp Goose pair, Puñuhuil, Isla de Chiloé, Chile.
Another strongly dimorphic species - again the male is much paler.

These are very handsome birds - like all their group - and deserve to be admired from closer up too.

Kelp Geese on Isla Magdalena, Strait of Magellan.
Female above, male below.

The other two members of the genus have identical sexes (except for a minor size difference). Ashy-headed Geese C. poliocephala are relatively common, but nowhere near as readily seen as the abundant Upland Geese. In addition to being less numerous, they are birds of forest clearings in the cold Nothofagus rainforests, so less likely to be seen from vehicles crossing the landscape.

Ashy-headed Geese, Ushaia National Park, Argentinian Tierra del Fuego.

The last Chloephaga species is very scarce indeed on the mainland, where it seems that less than a thousand Ruddy-headed Geese survive; they are still abundant in the Falklands however, despite heavy persecution from farmers. I've only seen them once, on the shores of the Strait of Magellan east of Punta Arenas, and have no really acceptable pictures; this one will have to do I'm afraid!

Ruddy-headed Goose C. poliocephala in the foreground.
(Behind it is a male Kelp Goose and two Crested Ducks Lophonetta specularioides.)

Finally there are two other South American geese (I don't think I need to continue with the apostrophes, which will only make them feel judged - they didn't claim to be anything at all!), both found much further north. They form a separate genus in the shelduck group, though the Andean Goose has only recently (and not unanimously) been moved from Chloephaga .

Andean Geese Neochen melanoptera live in the high Andes - never normally below 3300 metres above sea level (except when exceptional snows force them lower) - from central Chile to central Peru and adjacent Argentina. They are a big bird, weighing up to 3.5 kilograms. A haemoglobin mutation has enabled exceptional oxygen carrying ability, to help them at the high altitudes.

Andean Geese in a bofedale - a high mountain wetland - in the Aguada Blanca National Reserve, southern Peru.

Andean Goslings at the same site.
They lay up to ten eggs in a nest on the ground.

Just one member of this group prefers the heat of the tropical lowlands. The Orinoco Goose is found along streams throughout much of the northern Amazon basin, though it is loath to actually take to the water. It is rarely common; indeed in Peru it is listed as Critically Endangered. Both Neochen geese, like their southern relatives, are vegetarian grazers.

Orinoco Goose, Manu National Park, Amazonian Peru.

They don't have the cachet of Jaguars, Condors, macaws or toucans, but I reckon the South American geese (or 'geese') are a special little part of that wonderful continent.

BACK ON THURSDAY (26 November)

I guess we all know of a place - an alluring road we pass the end of, or a walking track we mean to explore, or a sign to a lookout - with which we're familiar to the extent of promising ourselves we'll go there some time. One such to the south of Canberra is a mountain range passed weekly by probably hundreds of people heading along the Monaro Highway to or from the snow, or the far south coast of New South Wales, or eastern Victoria. The Tinderries are a rugged range east of the highway, accessed from Michelago, some 50km south of Canberra.

The Tinderries from the west. The exposed granitic faces are obvious, and are even more so since
an intense bushfire swept through them in December 2009.
In direct sun or after rain they gleam, catching the attention of cars from the highway some 10km away.

Yes, just 10km, but very few people take the trouble to follow the good-quality all-weather gravel Tinderry Road east from Michelago through the paddocks bearing remnant woodland trees, to climb into the forests of the ranges. You should some time, you know.

Looking back to the west from the Tinderries to the Clear and Booth Ranges in the
southern Australian Capital Territory.
The highway traverses the plain in the middle distance - really not very far!

The granites (and as a non-geologist I'm using the term very loosely, I know) date from vast intrusions of molten material from deep down some 400 million years ago. They dominate the range.

Huge granite slabs like this emerge from the forest.

Mostly however they appear on the hilltops, as huge sheets and tors.

Exposed granitic caps like this have interesting plants and are well worth exploring.
Many are remote and require serious walking; others, including this one, are readily accessible
from the roadside.

The Tinderry Nature Reserve, declared in 1981, has since expanded to 14,000 hectares, all of which is to the north of the Tinderry Road. This road, the only vehicle access to the higher parts of the range, passes through a small extent of Timber Reserve, then private (though currently unfenced) land. To date this land has been managed pretty sympathetically - ie minimally - but on a very recent visit I noticed a couple of For Sale signs by the road (including by the magnificent outcrop in the previous picture), one of my favourite spots in the range. I await developments (hopefully not literally!) with some trepidation.

The higher parts of the range support the easternmost outliers of sub-alpine forest and woodland vegetation, dominated by Mountain Gums Eucalyptus dalrympleana with Snow Gums E. pauciflora even higher up. (The highest point, Mount Tinderry, is over 1600 metres above sea level - the highest point of the Tinderry Road is 1280 metres.)

Mountain Gums forming a sub-alpine woodland.

Tough! A Mountain Gum seemingly growing out of sheer granite.
Note the wind in the leaves - this is typical of the higher open spaces.

Further down the mountains, the rain shadow to the west produced dry sclerophyll forest of a type widespread in the lower ranges of the region. There is good access to one part of the nature reserve in this section - returning along the Tinderry Road towards Michelago, turn right (north) onto the Burra Road. Some 10km along, in the far north-west of the reserve, there is a parks sign and gate on the right. You'll have to climb through the fence, but at least it's not barbed wire!

Open grassy dry eucalypt forest of Scribbly Gum E. rossii and Red Stringybark E. macrorhynchalow (800 metres asl) in the dry western slopes of Tinderry Nature Reserve.

One of the most significant plants in the range is the wattle Acacia costiniana (named for eminent alpine botanist, ecologist and conservationist Alec Costin, who at 90 is still, as at 2015, going strong). It is limited to the Tinderries (I'm almost certain, though one source has it further afield) where almost none of the population is in the reserve - most is just to the south, especially on granite outcrops including the one featured above.

Acacia costiniana; the phyllodes are very distinctive. It can form dense colonies among the granite.

The range is worth visiting at any time, but spring (which extends well into November at the higher levels) produces an excellent wildflower display. Here is some evidence for this claim! (And this really is just a selection of what I could have offered you.)

Austral Bugle Ajuga australis Family Lamiaceae.

Mountain Boronia B. algida Family Rutaceae.
Several species of boronia are common in the sandstone to the east, but there are very few this far inland.

Common Star-hair Astrotricha ledifolia Family Araliaceae; a large shrub
with many small flowers.

Common Fringe Myrtle Calytrix tetragona Family Myrtaceae.
Another shrub that thrives among the rocks.

Long-leaf Wax Flower Philotheca (Eriostemon) myoporoides Family Rutaceae.
This beautiful shrub is common in gardens, but not so easy to find in the wild.
Another that loves growing among the boulders.

Peas are abundant, here as seemingly everywhere.

Silky Parrot Pea Dillwynia sericea.

Common Shaggy Pea Oxylobium ellipticum.

Heathy Bush Pea Pultenea procumbens.

I'm getting a bit carried away here, so maybe just some herbs to end the floral menu.

Mountain Violet Viola betonicifolia.

Prickly Starwort Stellaria pungens Family Caryophyllaceae - which includes carnations.

Milkwort Comesperma ericinum Family Polygalaceae.

But of course I can't really end without an orchid.

Mountain Golden Moths Diuris lanceolata.

As for animals - well of course, though I don't seem to have many, which may be as well given how long this posting is becoming. Four very different animals to end on.


Spotted Grass Frog Limnodynastes tasmaniensis.This, and some friends, were using a nice cool moist something (I can't now recall what it was!) sunk into the ground at the edge of the dry forest.

Green Scarab Beetles Diphucephala sp. on Silver Wattle Acacia dealbata.A very common beetle in the mountains regionally.

Magpie Moth Nyctemera amicus; my thanks to Susan for pointing me to an identification for this one (below).
Love the antennae.

Dusky Woodswallow Artamus cyanopterus with chicks.
This nest is in a hollow spout, a typical site for this species.
(And I'm sure she's more interested in her chicks than she appears!)

OK, the Tinderries - if you don't live in Canberra, or visit regularly, this may be of limited interest to you. But if you are one of those who drives regularly by them and wonders what's there - wonder no more! And next time, maybe you can detour...

BACK ON THURSDAY

(My apologies for this late posting; I was only just getting into it yesterday afternoon when I received a phone call to tell me that one of the first White-winged Black Terns ever reported in the ACT had appeared on Lake Burley Griffin in the city. The only other time I know of it happening I was in South America! That was the end of my afternoon's writing - but what could I do?!)

When Captain James Cook in the Endeavour stopped at the site where the south Sydney suburb of Kurnell now stands in late April 1770 his initial reaction was to call the bay Sting Ray Harbour, but after the remarkable collecting spree of Joseph Banks and Daniel Solander he amended it to Botanists Bay, then almost immediately to Botany Bay.

Among the collections made on that rich visit was a sample of the first banksia to be described by science; 12 years later it was named in Banks' honour by Linnaeus the Younger, son of the famous Carl. This first banksia to be named, the type species, was the grand Saw Banksia B. serrata (both names refer to the toothed leaves), which can grow to a 15 metre high gnarled tree in coastal forests from southern Queensland to Victoria.

Banksia serrata, south coast New South Wales, above and below.

Banksias are members of the old Gondwanan family Proteaceae, which I talked about here recently. As I also mentioned in that posting, a 2007 publication, which has been widely accepted, subsumed the large genus Dryandra into Banksia, but that acceptance is not universal. Given that one who vehemently and cogently opposes it is the acknowledged bankia expert, Western Australian Alex George, I am inclined to take a cautious approach. For the purposes of this posting I am limiting to myself to the traditional understanding of banksia - that still leaves us with 78 species to admire however.

Banksias arose in Australia and, with one minor exception, have never left it. Banksia-like trees are known from the fossil record up to 70 million years ago and fossils of 'modern' banksias date back nearly 50 million years.

As is often the case, the south-western corner of the continent has by far the largest number of species, with less than 20 in the south-east and only six in the tropics, of which only three are solely tropical. One of these, the Tropical Banksia B. dentata, is the only species to have left Australia - as well as growing across northern Australia it extends into New Guinea.

Tropical Banksia, Litchfield NP, south-west of Darwin.

The banksia flower spike ('inflorescence' if you're feeling pedantic) is one of its most distinctive features and banksia flowers are among the most widely recognised Australian wildflowers. The woody stem of the inflorescence is covered with densely packed flowers - each single one, unsurprisingly, resembles a grevillea flower - of which there may be hundreds or even thousands. The opening of the flowers from the bottom up (or vice versa in a few cases) produces an impressive slow-motion wave of colour over a period of days. In bud the long style is trapped in the short corolla of petals.

Hooker's Banksia B. hookeriana, Lake Logue NR, north of Perth.
This species is restricted to a small area near Enneaba.

Firewood Banksia B. menziesii Badgingarra NP, north of Perth.
Another inhabitant of the northern sandplains but more widely distributed, from east of Perth to the Murchison River.

Showy Banksia B. speciosa, Cape Le Grande NP, south-east Western Australia.
This one is limited to the south-east sandplains.

After the flowers dry, they may either adhere to the woody stem or drop off entirely.

Persistent dead flowers, Silver Banksia B. marginata, Canberra.

Only a few of the numerous flowers are likely to be fertilised.


Showy Banksia 'cones', Esperance, south-east Western Australia. Each fruit contains only one or two small seeds. Many heathland species require a fire's heat to open the fruit and release the seeds. The cone on the right appears to have no fertilised flowers.

Banksia cone (species uncertain), having dropped seeds post-fire, Fitzgerald River NP,
central southern Western Australia.

Silver Banksia cone with a relatively high rate of fertilisation - the seeds have dropped.
This species lives in forest situations and doesn't require a fires heat to trigger seed drop.

Many species have yellow flowers but there is a range of unexpected colours as well.

Scarlet Banksia B. coccinea Esperance.
The styles still caught in the floral tube, and those released, are very visible here.

Cut-leaf Banksia B. praemorsa, Torndirrup NP near Albany, southern Western Australia.
This truly beautiful species grows only in a tiny area near Albany, very close to the sea,
often among granite boulders.

Heath-leaved Banksia B. ericifolia Nowra.
Here the contrast between styles and floral tubes is spectacular.

Many species favour heathy situations, especially on sand.

Massed Firewood and Hooker's Banksias, Lake Logue NR, north of Perth.
Such scenes are fairly typical of the sandplains, although the extent of this banksia mass is still exceptional.

Others are more specialised - Granite Banksia B. verticillata for instance grows only on or alongside granite outcrops, and only around Walpole and Albany on the Western Australian south coast.

Granite Banksia, Torndirrup NP.

While most banksia inflorescences are large - a Cutleaf Banksia flower spike for instance, while not the largest, can be 27cm long and 6cm wide - some are relatively minute.

The pretty little Teasel Banksia B. pulchella flower, from the central south coast of WA,
is only 5cm in diameter. (North of Esperance.)

Flower appearance is of course driven by pollinators and most banksias seem to be bird-attractors - the numerous flowers of a single spike offer a big reward.

Little Wattlebird Anthochaera chrysoptera on Saw Banksia, south coast New South Wales.

Western Wattlebird Anthochaera lunulata on Showy Banksia, Esperance.

However recent work has demonstrated the unsuspected significance of mammals in banksia pollination. On the south coast of New South Wales experiments involving putting bags over Hairpin Banksia flowers either by day or night showed that flowers pollinated only by mammals (ie at night) had three times the seed set of those accessible only to birds and insects (by day). The most important pollinators were Brown Antechinus Antechinus stuartii (supposedly carnivorous), Sugar Gliders Petaurus breviceps, Eastern Pygmy Possums Cercartetus nanus and Bush Rats Rattus fuscipes, another surprise.

Sugar Glides (above) and Bush Rat (below),
important Banksia pollinators.

Hairpin Banksia B. spinulosa Kanangra Boyd NP.
The styles are very stiff, and apparently act as combs to remove pollen from fur.

And once we start to look there are quite a few banksias which are fairly clearly evolved to mammal pollinators, which also means hiding from birds. The flowers tend to be brown and hidden within foliage - moreover some of them are reported to have a musky 'mouse-like' scent.

Desert Banksia B. ornata, Cox's Scrub Conservation Park, south of Adelaide, South Australia.
The 'desert' here is actually a botanically rich area of heathland and mallee shrubland on sand in
South Australia and western Victoria - the term is a local one referring to low soil nutrients,
hence its unsuitability for farming.

Fox Banksia B. sphaerocarpa, Badgingarra NR, north of Perth.

Some Western Australian species have flowers sitting right on the ground, from stems on or just below the surface, to be even more convenient for furry visitors.

Creeping Banksia B. repens, Stirling Ranges NP, southern Western Australia.

Not all banksia-animal interactions are beneficial to the plant of course; the seemingly rock-hard 'cones' are impervious to most jaws, but the magnificent big black-cockatoos specialise in crushing them open to extract the seeds.

Yellow-tailed Black-Cockatoo Calyptorhynchus funereus extracting seed from
Coastal Banksia B. integrifolia cone.

Carnaby's (Short-billed) Black-Cockatoos Calyptorhynchus latirostris seeking
seeds from Slender Banksia B. attenuata, just north of Perth.

For me, banksias are almost up there with orchids as my favourite wildflowers (or that is to say, they would be if I had favourites...). The fact that they are genuine Old Australians only increases my affection for them.

Acorn Banksia B. prionotes, Moore River NP, north of Perth.

BACK ON THURSDAY

Until this year my experiences of Chile had been in the far south, plus stop-overs in Santiago. In September however I had the opportunity to explore some of the far 'other end' of Chile, 4,000 kilometres to the north. Here the forbidding but compelling Atacama Desert dominates, where there are places where rain has never fallen in the 450 years of written records. This near incomprehensible aridity is, in turn, driven by the impacts of the cold Humboldt Current just offshore, and the towering Andes to the east, whose eastern slopes catch most of the moisture moving west from the distant Atlantic.

There are a few sites and regions I'd like to share with you in due course, but today I'd like to introduce the remarkable Lauca National Park, covering a spectacular 138,000 hectares of high Andean puna steppe-land. 'Puna' can be a confusing concept because it refers to two different things - the Puna Plateau is a high tableland between mountain ranges in Argentina and Chile, while puna is also used for the vegetation type, a largely treeless grassland which also contains some hardy shrubs and cushion plants. (In Ecuador 'páramo' is used instead.) Lauca is inland from Arica in the farthest north of Chile, between the small town of Putre and the Bolivian border.

Lauca National Park is high in the Andes, on the Bolivian border, at the approximate end of the red arrow.

The lowest part of the national park is 3,000 metres above sea level (masl) - 700 metres higher than the loftiest point in Australia! From here it soars to 6,300masl, providing a challenge to those of us from lower elevations. It is characterised by scenery that would take the breath away if one had any left to spare; snow-dusted volcanoes, impossibly blue glacial lakes (glaciers formed much of the landscape), and highly significant alpine wetlands known as bofedales where wildlife concentrates.

Bofedal, above and below.
Just two of hundreds which sprinkle the landscape of Lauca.

Glacial moraine (material deposited by retreating glaciers) around Lake Cotacotani, Lauca NP.

A panorama of volcanoes, some of them in Bolivia, above Lake Chungará which,
at 4,500 masl, is one of the highest lakes in the world.
(The queue of trucks in the right background is part of a 13km long back-up waiting to get through
the border post; opinion seemed to be divided as to how 'normal' this was.)

Part of the queue - they had a very scenic place to wait in at least!

Chungará is truly entrancing - I think it's fair to say that most of us forgot how hard we were working to breathe (it was the highest place I'd ever been while still standing on the ground), as we revelled in the amazing scenery. The lake formed some 8,000 years ago when a massive volcanic cone collapse formed a dam. It is dominated by Volcano Parinocota, one of those ridiculously perfect volcanic cones.

Volcanos Parinocota (left) and Pomerape in Bolivia (right), above Lake Chungará.

A closer view of Parinocota.

Parinocota last erupted 1700 years ago, but it should not be assumed that these volcanoes have all retired from an active life.

Volcanic smoke gently puffing from an unidentified cone, Lauca NP.

I mentioned earlier that the puna is 'largely treeless', but there is one significant exception. Polylepis is a genus of about 20 tree species but the copses they form at high Andean altitudes are very significant habitats indeed, supporting many other plant and animal species, many of them unique to the Polylepis forests. Restricted to the tropical Andes, they are the highest altitude flowering trees known, growing to over 5,000 metres above sea level. They are in the rose family but, unlike most roses, are wind pollinated because pollinators are not common at such altitudes.

Polylepis trees growing in a harsh glacial landscape well above 4,000masl in Lauca NP.

And the landscape is harsh; we were there long after daybreak on a spring sunny day, but much of the water in the bofedales was still frozen.

Frozen pools in a Lauca bofedal.

Even this stream was substantially frozen.

Another characteristic plant form in the high puna - and indeed in alpine areas throughout the world - is the 'cushion plant' form. These are usually woody plants forming dense ground-covering mats with substantial tap roots. This form, which recurs in a wide range of families, seems to be a powerful adaptation to growing in sparse low-nutrient soils, in low temperatures and with limited water and frequent harsh winds. In Lauca, a common cushion is formed by Azorella species, family Apiaceae.

Azorella sp. mounds, above and below, in a harsh landscape.

And by looking at the cushion plants, we're very likely to find another inhabitant too...

Mountain Viscacha Lagidium viscacia;
despite its rabbity appearance, it is one of the old South American rodents and very much
at home in apparently unhomely habitats like Lauca.

In fact, wherever you go in high Lauca there's likely to be a viscacha watching!
Like the South American monkeys, the old rodents have their roots in Africa and, like them,
it's not at all clear how they got here some 45 million years ago, though it must have been by sea.

But it's in the bofedales that much of the animal life can be found.

Here a viscacha has been joined by another enigmatic South American,
a Grey-breasted Seedsnipe Thinocorus orbignyianus.Thereare just four species of seedsnipe, all South American, and apparently aberrant waders.

In the puna the ground-tyrants - members of one of the two ancient South American passerine sub-oscine groups which dominate here - are prevalent.

Cinereous Ground-Tyrant Muscisaxicola cinereus.The tyrant flycatchers apparently arose as aerial insectivores in the neotropical rainforests, where many remain. Others have extended into the Andes, including the ground-tyrants
which have adopted a primarily terrestrial lifestyle.

Puna Ground-Tyrant Muscisaxicola juninensis.

Rufous-naped Ground-Tyrant Muscisaxicola rufivertex. (It's really the crown which is rufous.)

White-fronted Ground-Tyrant Muscisaxicola albifrons.

The other great sub-oscine group, the funariids or oven-birds, is also represented.

White-winged Cinclodes Cinclodes atacamensis. Cinclodes represent some 14 species of ground-foraging mostly cold-loving birds found throughout the Andes and Patagonia.

Crested Ducks Lophonetta specularioides.
A single-species genus which also favours the high mountains and deep south.

Black-hooded Sierra-finch Phrygilus atriceps, another high-altitude specialist. (Thanks Juan!)
(And perhaps because this is South America, sierra-finches are actually tanagers...)

The bofedales have also been sought by human settlers for at least three thousand years, as places to graze stock and grow crops such as quinoa. Traditional use is still permitted in Lauca.

Alpacas Vicugna pacos grazing in Lauca NP.

And finally, along the shores of Lake Chungará, another special South American.

Giant Coot Fulica gigantea.
This superb bird, a specialist of the high Andean lakes, is the second-largest of all living rails;
it can be over 60cm long and weigh over 2.5kg.
(The more familiar Eurasian Coot F. atra is up to 40cm long and weighs perhaps a kilogram.)

Lauca's not on everyone's South American 'must see' list, but I really think it should be. Bear it in mind anyway...

BACK ON THURSDAY

As the year is winding down, I seem to be too, so forgive me if I don't go into any great depth in this, my antepenultimate posting for the year. I've had some fun in the past looking at colours in nature. (You can, if you like, find the most recent one here and go back, or just go to Colours in Nature in Labels alongside this.)

Some time ago someone suggested I might look at 'rainbow colours' in nature - outside of an actual rainbow that's a bit tricky if taken literally, but in the spirit of that I've decided to look at some multi-coloured animals today, which I've defined as having at least three evident colours without counting black, grey, white or brown. It's quite arbitrary of course, but I had to have some guidelines. I'm not going, on this occasion, to look deeply into the mechanics or even purpose of the colours involved, as that's been covered in my posts on the individual colours and this is a time for simple enjoyment, on both our parts.

In the event this is overwhelmingly about birds - I was surprised to find (or fail to do so) any butterflies in my photo collection which meet my criteria, and very few invertebrates at all, or indeed other vertebrates, though that's not to suggest I don't think they exist. I can't really start better than by looking at the three Australian birds which actually have 'rainbow' in their name.

Rainbow Bee-eaters Merops ornatus, Karumba, tropical Queensland.
The bee-eaters overall are one of the most colourful bird groups - this is the only one found in Australia.

Rainbow Pitta Pitta iris, East Point, Darwin.
The name species name also means rainbow. This angle doesn't give you the best view of its assets,
but you get the idea.

Rainbow Lorikeet Trichoglossus moluccanus, Emerald Botanic Gardens, Queensland.
This widespread and familiar parrot is still expanding its range - it really is spectacular.

Which brings us to the parrots, by far the best-represented group that I found. Curiously, some of the best-known parrots however, such as the macaws, didn't qualify (though of course I don't have pictures of them all). I have had to select, and have limited myself to just four of the many I could have used; I'll find an excuse to introduce the rest in the not-too-distant future however.


Superb Parrot Polytelis swainsonii, Mulligans Flat NR, Canberra. A threatened species which has taken to coming into Canberra in recent years, probably spurred by drought years. An unhelpful name, but hard to argue with.

Mulga Parrot Psephotus varius, outback Western Australia.
Widespread in the inland - not just in mulga (Acacia aneura) - it boasts four obvious colours.

Red-capped Parrot Purpureicephalus spurius, Albany, south-west Australia, where it is endemic.

Double-eyed Fig Parrot Cyclopsitta diophthalma, Cairns, tropical Queensland.
Australia's smallest parrot - only 14cm long - and packed with colour!

One of the few Australian birds which can match the parrots for diversity of colour is a rainforest pigeon, and sadly my pics don't really do it justice.

Wompoo Pigeon (or Fruit Dove) Ptilinopus magnificus, Cairns.
This is a glorious big pigeon, whose name comes from its call. Try saying it slowly and sonorously -
lots of gravitas!

Overseas there are of course many contenders too, though curiously not many hummingbirds seem to be among them - they are intensely coloured, often iridescent, but not really multi-hued. Fortunately I know of at least one to whom that does not apply!

Golden-tailed Sapphire Chrysuronia oenone, Waqanki Lodge, northern Peru.

Masked Trogon Chrysuronia oenone, Tandayapa Lodge, Ecuador.
All trogons are spectacular, but are not always easily photographed in the canopy;
here however they come down to the compost heap!

Many-banded Aracari Pteroglossus pluricinctus, Wild Sumaco Lodge, Ecuador.
Aracaris are small toucans, a notably colourful group.

Saffron-crowned Tanager Tangara xanthocephala, Inka TerraHotel, Machu Picchu, Peru.
This bird was in shadow - in the sun the crown is more obviously saffron!
Collectively, tanagers are among the most brilliantly-coloured birds in the world.

Not all multi-coloured birds are from Australia and South America of course. Here are a couple from Asia.

Red-crowned Barbet Megalaima rafflesii, Bako NP, Sarawak.
The Asian barbets are now regarded as being in a separate family from both the African and South American ones -
all are spectacular.

Rubycheek (or Ruby-cheeked Sunbird) Chalcoparia singalensis, Batang Ai NP, Sarawak.
The sunbirds, of Africa and Asia, are another group in contention for
Colourful Birds of the World Award.

And among other vertebrates, I could only find a couple of frogs who qualified.

This superb beastie appeared in large numbers from the ground when it started raining at Cunnamulla
in south-central Queensland. It is a Crucifix Frog (or, wrongly, Toad) Notaden bennettii, which survives
dry spells in a cocoon down in the underground mud. Most frogs don't draw attention to themselves -
everybody, it seems, wants to eat them - but this one can afford to. "Don't eat me, I will make you very sorry."

The poison arrow frogs of South America have, if anything, even more firepower to back up their colourful warnings.

Poison Arrow Frog Ameerega bilinguis, Sacha Lodge, Ecuador.
It exudes toxic alkaloids through its skin - do not try this at home (even assuming you have the frog).
This hand belongs to an indigenous Quichua man who has been handling them all his life and has
evidently developed some immunity.

As for invertebrates, surprisingly I have only been able to come up with four - three grasshoppers (again not what I'd have bet on in advance) and, also unexpectedly perhaps, a crab! None are Australian.

Unidentified grasshopper, Blanquillo Clay Lick, Peru.

And another, also unidentified, from the rainforests of Mt Kupé, Cameroon.

And at last, one I can put a name to - the Galápagos Painted Locust Schistocerca melanocera,on Sierra Negra, Isla Isabela.

Finally, also from the Galápagos, the wonderful Sally Lightfoot Crab Grapsus grapsus.

Sally Lightfoots are found all along the Pacific coast of the Americas,
and they are one of the real features of the Galápagos.

I hope this lightweight post has brightened your day - I feel more cheerful for having put it together.

BACK ON WEDNESDAY FOR DOUBTLESS ANOTHER FAIRLY FLIMSY OFFERING - LIFE IS BUSY AT THE MOMENT!

I've just realised, with something of a shock, that it is now nearly three years since we last went to Kosciuszko National Park, subsequent to which I wrote a series of three postings on this wonderful mountain park south of Canberra. Rather than repeat myself now, if you're interested in the history, nature and significance of the park, and a map, see here. That visit was in February, towards the end of summer and the flowering season; this time we opted to go earlier in the summer - just last weekend in fact - to catch the earlier flowering. It should no longer be a surprise to see that the flowering in the Snowy Mountains, as in the Brindabellas above Canberra, is noticeably getting earlier. Accordingly the flowers were especially magnificent. This has been a very busy time of year, and our weekend provided a welcome respite. As I foreshadowed in my most recent post I'm starting to run down a bit too, so this will be a low-key posting, comprising basically a photo-record of the flowers and some animals that we enjoyed. I hope you can find time to enjoy them with me.

We did the Main Range walk again, a 13km return walk on a metal walkway - to protect the plants, and keep above the boggy ground - from the top of the Thredbo chairlift to Mt Kosciuszko.

Going down - 600 metres from top to bottom. I'm not a great fan of heights, but this one's worth it.

It's always good to be up there, where the Snowy River rises, and this day was warm (apart from the wind!) and sunny, but it was still early summer up there, and snow drifts persisted.

Headwaters of the Snowy River.

As I said, the flowers were stunning, as you can see in the background of that photo.

Massed Silver Snow Daisies Celmisia sp., above and below.

Flowers in front of the Ramshead Range.

Daisies provided much - but by no means all - of the spectacle; the Silver Snow Daisies were the stars in terms of dominance, but here are some others.

Alpine Sunrays Leucochrysum alpinum.This has recently been raised from a subspecies of L. albicans.

Silver Ewartia Ewartia nubigena.Named for Alfred Ewart, Australia's first Professor of Botany as a stand-alone position,
appointed to Melbourne University in 1905.

Cascade Everlasting Ozothamnus secundiflorus.

Dusty Daisy-bush Olearia phlogopappa.

Heaths - formerly Family Epacridaceae in Australia, now mysteriously subsumed in the northern hemisphere Ericaceae - are another important part of the alpine flora; here are just a couple.

Candle Heath Richea continentis, above and below, form massed prickly colonies in swampy ground.

Snow Beard-Heath Leucopogon montanus grows as an erect shrub lower down the mountain,
but above the tree-line it lies flat to the ground or sprawls over rocks.

This mat form is typical of many species in these harsh wind-swept environment.

Alpine Stackhousia Stackhousia alpina.

Sky Lily Herporlirion novae-zelandiae.Of course one shouldn't have favourites, but I can't help it in the case of this delightful ground-hugging
blue-tinged lily, found, as the name suggests, in New Zealand as well as Australian mountains.

Mountain Celery Aciphylla glacialis.Surely one of the most spectacular members of Apiaceae, the celery and carrot family.

Purple Eyebrights Euphrasia collina.
Euphrasia means 'delighting', and it always works for me!

Alpine Mintbush Prostanthera cuneata.A beautiful aromatic shrub which grows close to the rocks, allowing it stand upright.

Alpine Rice-flower Pimelea alpina, a tiny herb.

Bitter-cress Cardamine sp.

Alpine Water-Fern Blechnum penna-marina.I'm always surprised to see ferns growing in a situation where they spend weeks of every year
buried in snow, but these are hardy, and grow among the rocks which provide a heat sink.

Yellow Kunzea Kunzea muelleri.This low-growing shrub can dominate vast areas of hillside - see below.

Another impressively-flowering shrub at the moment - though not nearly as widespread as the kunzea - is Alpine Orites, Orites lancifolia.

Alpine Orites is in the Family Proteaceae, not well-represented at these elevations.

And, far from least, the mighty Snow Gums were flowering too.

Its always seemed a mystery to me that Snow Gums (above and below) are called
Eucalyptus pauciflora - 'sparse-flowering'!
Clearly not named by someone who knew the tree.

This time there were some animals to be seen too, though mostly one has to look. The Alpine Mintbush is a good place to start.

The Alpine Spotted Grasshopper Monistria concinna is regularly found feeding on the mintbush,
despite its aromatic supposedly insect-repelling foliage.

Spotted Alpine Xenica Oreixenica orichora;
thanks for the i.d. Suzi!

Unidentified moth.

And it wasn't until I looked at the moth photo more closely that I noticed
this tiny flower spider lurking with intent.

Vertebrates are much thinner on the ground. Only two birds are regularly seen high on the mountains.

Australasian Pipits Anthus novaeseelandiae work across the ground taking insects from foliage.

Little Raven Corvus mellori enjoying the last light of day in a Snow Gum.
As well as gleaning the mountain insects, they have adapted well to human habitation.

Much rarer is the little Mountain Galaxias Galaxias olidus, now found in the high streams pretty much only where the voracious introduced trout have not ventured.

This little fish is also found at lower altitudes, in waters too warm for the trout.

I hope this has been of some interest or enjoyment, and even more I hope that, if it is possible for you, it encourages you to get up there sometime this summer.

Meantime, I hope that Christmas, if it has significance for you, is a time of happiness and peace - and that you can get out and enjoy nature wherever you are.

Old Snow Gum, Charlottes Pass, with Main Range behind.

BACK ON THURSDAY FOR MY TRADITIONAL REVIEW OF THE YEAR VIA A PHOTO PER MONTH.

As I have made traditional, to mark the changing of years I've selected just one photo from each month of 2015 to commemorate the year past. As ever I don't make any pretences to photographic excellence, but have chosen the pictures because of their associations, and in most cases they are ones I've not previously used this year in a blog posting.

It's been a busy and enjoyable year - as all years should be as far as we can make them so - and I hope this selection of photos reflects this.

JANUARY

Chestnut-quilled Rock Pigeon Petrophassa rufipennis, Burrunggui
(formerly known, erroneously, as Nourlangie Rock), Kakadu National Park.
We spent a week visiting my sister and brother-in-law in Darwin in 'the Wet', an experience in itself.
The highlight however was a couple of nights in Kakadu, one of the world's great parks.
This beautiful pigeon is endemic to the Top End sandstone, almost exclusively within Kakadu.
It is hard to see without climbing into the escarpment, but this one emerged almost at our feet. Very special.

FEBRUARY

Tall Wasp Orchid Chiloglottis trilabra, Mongarlowe, New South Wales.
I made a specific trip to a grassy site here, about an hour east of Canberra, to look for some orchids, including
this one. It's one of those which fool male wasps into attempted mating by simulating a female, both
in appearance and scent. I found the resemblance of the remarkable structure on the labellum to an insect
surprisingly compelling.

MARCH

Highland Copperhead Austrelaps ramsayi, south of Canberra.
For some reason March was a quiet month photographically - I always seem to have one of those -
but I like the scale detail and colouring of this beautiful, venomous but amiable frog-specialist.

APRIL

Brolgas Grus rubicunda near Clermont, inland central Queensland.
In late April I drove a bus north to Cairns in tropical Queensland to meet a tour group.
It was a long drive with limited stops, but early one morning I was stopped by a series of small
groups of Brolgas, one of our two native cranes, flying in from the west, passing low over the road
and landing to feed in the sorghum. I watched for some 20 minutes, by which time there were hundreds
on the ground, but still they came. Many, including these, were young birds.

MAY

Frill-necked Lizard Chlamydosaurus kingii, Mareeba Wetlands, north Queensland.
Not easy picking just one photo from the richness of the Wet Tropics, but this is it. Nearly a metre long,
I've long wanted to see this magnificent lizard, but it's only possible in summer - in winter it goes into a torpor in
the tree canopies. It was a specific goal in January in Kakadu, but no luck. This one was a complete surprise;
I have no idea why it was active in May, but I am very glad it was!

JUNE

Sunda Colugo Galeopterus variegatus, Bako National Park, Sarawak.
Another difficult month to decide on just one photo, because this was when I was 'sent' to Malaysian
Borneo to do some reconnaissance for a potential future tour. This is another animal I'd long wanted to see,
but never hoped to actually to do so. Also called a 'flying lemur' (though it doesn't fly and is absolutely
not a lemur!) it is an accomplished glider, roosting during the day on a tree trunk. Two species
are recognised, though this one may well be divided into three. It has no close relatives, but is
distantly related to the primates.

JULY

Morning frost on a native daisy bush in our Canberra garden.
Another quiet month for photography - a lull between periods of frenetic activity.
Though this was yet another record-breaking warm year (does any sane person still not accept that
we're warming the place up?!), we had some hard winter frosts.

AUGUST

Lago Miscanti, Atacama Desert, northern Chile, at 4,100 metres above sea level.
Travelling again, this time to northern Chile and southern Peru, again accompanying a group.
The Atacama has long been on my must-see list, so another special trip. Despite a distinct shortage of oxygen in the air
and bitter cold, this was one of the most stunning scenes I'd ever seen.

SEPTEMBER

Marvellous Spatuletail Loddigesia mirabilis, Huembo Lodge, northern Peru. Northern Peru (a post-tour reconnaissance for the future) was another eye-opener. Again I could have offered any of dozens of pictures, but this extraordinary hummingbird was yet another on my wish-list since seeing it featured in an Attenborough series. This picture doesn't
do justice to the surreal tail, but you get the idea. It is limited to a very small area on the eastern slopes
of the Andes in north Peru.

OCTOBER

Shingleback Lizard Tiliqua rugosa amid Hoary Sunrays Leucochrysum albicans, Forbes Creek near Canberra.
Back home for the year and glad to be. I've been a fan of Sleepy Lizards (as we called them in South Australia) since
I was a child, and I couldn't resist this one ambling insouciantly through the daisies on a warm afternoon.

NOVEMBER

Native Bee at (exotic) Passiflora flower, Nowra.
One of my great pleasures when we visit my partner's parents on the edge of Nowra, near the coast a couple
of hours to the north of Canberra, is to wander the extensive gardens looking for both birds and smaller
animals, both of which abound. I was fascinated by the parade of tiny native bees (which were avoiding
the far bigger exotic Honeybees) attracted to these passionfruit flowers.

DECEMBER

Diphucephala sp. (a scarab beetle), fly and flower spider sharing a Billy Button Daisy Craspedia sp. head,
Mount Ginini, Namadgi National Park above Canberra.
It was an excellent flower day, but it was this little grouping which really caught my attention.
I don't think the beetle was at risk, but I'm not nearly so sure about the fly!

So, that was my 2015 (or at least one version of it); I hope you got as much fleeting pleasure from rewalking it with me as I did in putting it together. I hope too that your year will also live on in happy memories for you, and that 2016 can bring us all more of the joys of nature, and a more peaceful planet.

BACK NEXT YEAR - SPECIFICALLY, ON WEDNESDAY!

It seems appropriate to start the year with an Australian topic, and this is one that's been on my mind for a while. Australia (which includes New Guinea for most biological purposes) is a world hot-spot for parrots and cockatoos, the other being South America. I'll be using 'parrots' loosely here, to include all members of the Order Psittaciformes - ie cockatoos, 'true' parrots, and the New Zealand parrots. Australia has 55 species (41 true parrots and 14 cockatoos), representing some 14% of the world's total in roughly 5% of the earth's land area. (By comparison, South America has 2.31 times the area and 2.36 times the number of parrot species, which I find intriguing.)

However, of Australia's 55 species, 11 are the only members of their genus, meaning they divided off from their nearest relatives a long time ago. (I also find it curious that South America has only 12 single-species parrot genera, a much lower percentage, though offhand I can't think what the significance is!)

I find taxa, be they genera or families, with only one member to be particularly interesting, which doubtless tells you something about me; today I want to introduce you to those 11 singular Australians. (The Eclectus Parrot Eclectus roratus could be regarded as an 12th, with the only other species, the Pacific Eclectus Parrot E. infectus of Tonga and Vanuatu, becoming extinct apparently some 200 years ago.)

Male Eclectus Parrot (the female is red), Adelaide Zoo - sorry about that.
I have seen them in their natural habitat in tropical Cape York Peninsula but not managed a photograph.

There are six other genera with only one Australian species, but with other members elsewhere in the region, so I'll leave them for today.

The same is true for me regarding the Palm Cockatoo Probosciger aterrimus as it is for the Eclectus Parrot - that is I've seen it on Cape York, but no photos, sadly. The rest however I can offer you.

The four other cockatoos include two familiar pink species, which both apparently split from the main white cockatoo line long ago.

Galahs Eolophus roseicapilla, Forbes, New South Wales.
These lovely birds today suffer from over-familiarity, but half a century ago they were much less familiar
in the most populated parts of Australia, as they spread south-east with croplands and watering points.

Major Mitchell Cockatoos Lophochroa leadbeateri, north of Bourke, New South Wales.
Named for the controversial explorer Major Thomas Mitchell, whose rhapsodising of them
brought them to popular attention. They are limited to the dry inland.

Gang-gang Cockatoos Callocephalon fimbriatum, by contrast, apparently arose early from the black-cockatoo line.

Gang-gangs (male above, female below), Canberra.
One of the smallest cockatoos, we are particularly fortunate here in Canberra,
the only city where one can see these delightful cockies throughout suburbia.
The name is of indigenous origin - though as is so often the case we are not even sure from which language - and
beautifully captures the creaky-gate call. (I actually am minded of a cork emerging from a wine bottle,
though that is a dying sound in Australia as screw-top caps take over.)

The last of our singleton cockies is not always even recognised as one, though it is the world's second-most popular cage bird. (It is no secret that I find the concept of birds alone in small cages to be an immensely depressing one.) The Cockatiel Nymphicus hollandicus is found throughout inland Australia except for the deepest central deserts. Like the Gang-gang its origins are with the black-cockatoos.

Cockatiels, Sturt National Park, far north-western New South Wales.
As seed-eaters they must find water daily.
They are the world's smallest cockatoo.

Male Cockatiel, Mount Magnet, Western Australia.
The name is a diminutive form of 'cockatoo', as adapted from Malay.

And so to the 'true' parrots. The first four of the 'stand alones' we're visiting today are pretty universally agreed to share a common ancestor with each other and the rosellas (that is, more than with other parrots).

The Ringneck Parrot Barnardius zonarius is found over much of the continent; it has four distinctive races, which in the past were regarded as separate species.

Port Lincoln Parrot, race zonarius, Lincoln National Park (appropriately) ,
southern Eyre Peninsula, South Australia. Despite the name, it is found throughout much of
central and western Australia.

Twenty-eight Parrot (for the call), race semitorquatus, north of Perth.
It is limited to the south-west.

Eastern, or Mallee, Ringneck, race barnardi, south-west Queensland.
This is the familiar form in inland eastern Australia.

There is also a very green race, macgillivrayi, called the Cloncurry Ringneck, from a small area of north-western Queensland.

Another widespread inland south-eastern species is the Blue Bonnet Northiella haematogaster; despite the name its most conspicuous feature is its red belly in flight. It is a relatively sombre-coloured parrot, but I'm very fond of them.

Blue Bonnet, Theldarpa Station, north-western New South Wales.
Sometimes the isolated race called Naretha Blue Bonnet, from the Nullarbor Plain,
is regarded as a separate species.

Red-capped Parrot Purpureicephalus spurius, Albany, Western Australia.
Endemic to the south-west corner of the country, the remarkable beak
(which can be almost overlooked in admiration of the colours) is adapted for extracting
the tiny seeds from Marri Eucalyptus (or Corymbia) calophylla.

The relationship of the fourth member of this quartet to the others and to rosellas is less obvious, but I'm happy to accept the DNA evidence. The little Swift Parrot Lathamus discolor is in terrible trouble from a range of causes, including logging in its Tasmanian breeding grounds in the Blue Gum Eucalyptus globulus forests, loss of woodlands on the mainland where it spends winter, and predation on the nest by imported Sugar Gliders.

Swift Parrot, Mount Majura, Canberra. In the mainland woodlands they are nomads, following the eucalypt blossoms.
The genus name is for John Latham, English ornithological giant (albeit somewhat erratic) at the turn of
the 18th-19th centuries.

Another inland parrot in this club is the Bourke's Parrot Neopsephotus bourkii, a subtly-coloured and retiring bird found sparsely across a huge swathe of the arid lands. The name commemorates Governor Richard Bourke, a nineteenth century liberal-minded New South Wales governor with a tragic life.

Bourke's Parrot, above and below, Thargomindah, south-west Queensland.
I find it very hard to get good pictures of these; even having found them, it is
very difficult to get close to them.

And finally, another desert-dweller and probably Australia's best-known parrot - though ironically most of the people around the world who keep Budgerigars in cages (see comment above under Cockatiels!) are probably unaware that they are either Australian or even parrots. When I see wonderful flocks of Budgies flashing past the vehicle in the vast outback, I feel very sad to think of them kept in solitary confinement far from home. For it is the Budgerigar which has the dubious honour of being the world's most popular cage bird.

Budgerigar Melopsittacus undulatus, Mullewa, Western Australia.
The male is on the left, with the blue cere (the waxy structure above the bill).
Budgies have such wonderful stories that they deserve their own posting, and
will receive it one day.

So, there they are - 11 parrots which are the sole members of their genus. I hope you've enjoyed meeting them as much as I've enjoyed presenting them to you. Even more, I hope you can meet them one day on their own ground, if you've not already done so.

And so 2016 has started! Perhaps a visit to South America next time.

BACK ON WEDNESDAY

Some time ago, I told the remarkable story of Angel Paz and his cloud forest property Paz de las Aves on the western slopes of the Andes in northern Ecuador. I won't retell his story here - please trust me that it's worth reading if you're interested in the concept and haven't come across his story.

Today I want to tell you about a very recent such enterprise further south on the other side of the Andes and across the border, on the eastern slopes in northern Peru. Norbil Becerra is a carpenter who was intending to turn his small family-owned patch of rainforest just outside of the little town of Aguas Verdes (not to be confused with the town of the same name on the Ecuadorian border) into a coffee plantation, which is the fate of much of the cloud forest around there. At 1500 metres above sea level these forests have a mix of upper and lower elevation species.

Aguas Verdes is not a wealthy town, and it is unsurprising that Norbil's efforts have met with local
opposition and even derision. But as the number of visitors and their money continues to rise, that
may change. (We arrived in a tremendous downpour; we were invited in to the simple open downstairs room
to have a cup of tea while we waited. The pig above trotted in while we were there, but was
only passing through to the back yard.)

Instead, inspired by what he saw at nearby Huembo Lodge (of which more in a forthcoming posting here), he turned his talents to building a viewing platform facing an array of hummingbird feeders. At Huembo he saw the extraordinary Marvellous Spatuletail (see under September in that link) - his first ever hummingbird - and like many before him he was hooked.

Norbil's viewing platform is spacious and impressive, looking not only at feeders but
at plantings of selected flowering plants, chosen to attract both hummingbirds and butterflies.

Feeders (look carefully!) in the shade behind the flowering Verbena hedge.

Norbil's patience and determination were remarkable - it took seven months for the recalcitrant hummers to find the feeders, but he persisted in putting cleaning and refilling the feeders, in the face of great pressure to be sensible, to clear and plant coffee. And in the end they came, and now, just a year or so later, visitors are coming too. We did, last September, and felt hugely rewarded for our walk through streets still running with rainwater and then along a road for a kilometre out of town; fortunately the white sands under the forest drain the storm waters away efficiently.


Blue-fronted Lancebill Doryfera johannae. This lovely hummer has a remarkably straight bill; it is scarce, though widely-distributed.

Fork-tailed Woodnymph Thalurania furcata, another widespread and truly gloriously
iridescent hummingbird.

Golden-tailed Sapphire Chrysuronia oenone; really, I run out of superlatives for hummers...
This one is found throughout the northern Andes.

Many-spotted Hummingbird Taphrospilus hypostictus, limited to the lower eastern slopes of
the northern Andes.

For me though, the highlight was the truly amazing Wire-crested Thorntail Discosura popelairii. This was not the first time I'd seen it but it was by far the best view I've had, and the only chance I've had to take a moderately acceptable photograph.

Wire-crested Thorntail male at Verbena.
Birdlife International describes it as "generally rare"; Cornell Lab of Ornithology refers to it as "stunning".
It is one of the most enthralling birds I've ever had the privilege of meeting.

I mentioned the butterflies - I can't offer you names (and would be delighted if you could help out) but hopefully you can still enjoy a couple of them in anonymity.

However Norbil didn't stop there. Much more recently he built a nearby raised hide within the forest, and equipped it with a simple but ingenious mechanism to deliver corn to the forest floor in front of the viewing windows.

Norbil's hide for viewing almost mythically shy and hard-to-see birds of the cloud forest floor.
The corn is delivered though the pipe on the left to the ground below the viewing slots (below).

The bird framed by the viewing slot above is one I'd almost given up hope of seeing - a tinamou! Moreover, not one, but two species wandered in to offer us extended views. Tinamous belong to the ratites, the great flightless Gondwanan birds (ostriches, emus, rheas etc), but unlike their larger relatives they can still fly weakly.

This Cinereous Tinamou Crypturellus cinereus came in early, and others later followed.
It is widespread across northern South America but, like other tinamous, is very secretive.

Later it was joined by a Little Tinamou Crypturellus soui, likewise rarely seen normally.

Little Tinamou, another Aguas Verdes thrill.

Another hard to see resident of the forest interior which came to visit was the pretty little Orange-billed Sparrow Arremon aurantiirostris.

Orange-billed Sparrow, another new species for me.

Grey-necked Wood Rail Aramides cajaneus, perhaps not as hard to see as some of the
others, but hard to imagine a view as spectacular as this one!

White-tipped Dove Leptotila verreauxi.A large and widespread forest species, but not normally easy to approach.

When you're in northern Peru - which is entirely different from the more visited south of the country - there are several reasons to visit this wonderful innovation at Aguas Verdes, not the least of which is to do yourself a favour. But supporting people like Norbil and what he stands for is probably even more important.

BACK ON WEDNESDAY

In recent times I've begun a sporadic series on the old Gondwanan family Proteaceae, with emphasis on the Australian ones. The most recent one was on Banksias, which you can see here if you missed it. (I actually fear I'm tempting fate by even mentioning that posting, let alone linking to it. On that occasion, for the first time I failed to post on the promised date, due to the appearance of an unexpected White-winged Black Tern in Canberra. I duly completed the post the next day, and in less than 24 hours I was in the hospital emergency department; however it is quite likely the three events were unrelated so I'll take a chance...)

Fern-leaf Grevillea Grevillea pteridifolia, Normanton, Gulf Country, north Queensland.
A magnificent species, found across tropical Australia - as we shall see, not all grevilleas have flowers in spikes.
This was one of the first grevilleas collected by science; Banks took specimens while Captain Cook's Endeavour
was being repaired after striking the Great Barrier Reef where Cooktown now stands in tropical Queensland.

Grevillea is one of the most-cultivated genera in Australia, especially due to numerous cultivars. The name of the genus, along with others of the family, was the subject of one the most vitriolic botanical scandals of the 19th century. In 1809 the great Scottish botanist Robert Brown, who had sailed on the Investigator expedition with Matthew Flinders and spent years collecting Australian plants, presented to the Linnaean Society of London a landmark paper on the family Proteaceae, which he was in the process of preparing for publication. Among the audience on the day was botanist Richard Salisbury; he was Honorary Secretary of the Horticultural Society, but proved himself not at all honorable.

A little later that year Joseph Knight, gardener to the plant dealer George Hibbert, published a snappily-titled paper called On the cultivation of the plants belonging to the natural order of Proteeae. However, only 13 pages were dedicated to his cultivation tips; the other 100 comprised a detailed plagiarisation by Salisbury of Brown's names. He didn't use his name and Knight got the 'credit' for the stolen names. However everyone knew it was Salisbury's work and he was widely ostracised and people stubbornly referred the names to Brown when he formally published them in 1810. Brown's task was made even easier when Knight/Salisbury misspelt Grevillea as Grevillia! Finally, a century later, the botanical world introduced the concept of Conserved Names, which enabled them to put aside the strict rules if there was good reason to do so. Today Grevillea is officially described as R. Br. [ie Robert Brown] ex Knight.

White Grevillea G. parallela, Undara National Park, inland north Queensland.
This is another of the species collected at Cooktown.

The early history of grevilleas (bearing in mind that the name itself didn't appear until 1810) is confusing - to me, anyway! It seems that Banks and Solander collected some grevilleas at Botany Bay in 1770, including what we now know as Grevillea mucronulata. Later they collected three more in north Queensland (see the captions above). However the first three grevilleas to be cultivated in England before 1800 were none of these, and were apparently sent to Banks and some nurserymen by William Paterson, an army officer whose passion was plants.

Silky Grevillea Grevillea sericea, Goulburn River NP, New South Wales.
This was one of the three species received, grown and named in England in the 1790s.

However, the type species - the first one to be formally named - is a relatively obscure species from around the southern Blue Mountains, G. apleniifolia, not named until 1809! The answer, as I understand it, is that it was described by Knight (fronting for Salisbury), as the first species described as Grevillea. The genus name honours Charles Francis Greville, a friend of Banks and with him a member of the delightfully named Society of Dilettanti (whose passion was the art of ancient Greece and Rome). Greville was a keen gardener, growing tropical species under glass. He had a very close relationship with Emma Hart, who later progressed to being Lord Nelson's lover, but he had no discernible relationship with Australia or grevilleas.

And with that, perhaps we should talk about some plants.... There are some 360 species of Grevillea, of which only 7 are found beyond Australia (in New Guinea, New Caledonia and Sulawesi). Around half of these are found in south-western Australia, one of the world's great botanical hot spots. Most are shrubs, but there are both trees and ground covers.

Beefwood Grevillea striata, Maryvale Road, central Australia.
This is a substantial tree of the central deserts.

Foliage may be simple or compound, relatively soft or hard and spiky.

Grevillea bipinnatidifida John Forrest NP, near Perth, Western Australia.

Grevillea barklayana, Ulladulla, south coastal New South Wales.

Grevillea armigera Reynoldson Flora Reserve, south-western Western Australia.

Flowers are paired, but as they are in racemes this is not always obvious. Unusually, the pollen-bearing anthers are attached to the inside of the floral tube; the styles are initially trapped inside the tube, with the stigma in contact with the pollen. When the flowers open as the tube segments fold back, the style springs out to present the pollen. Shortly afterwards it becomes a pollen receptor, the only role it plays in most plants.

Honeysuckle Grevillea G. juncifolia, central Australia, above;
Comb-leaf Grevillea G. pectinata, Salmon Gums, Western Australia, below.
In both we can clearly see the older flowers with extended styles, while in unopened flowers the
styles are still trapped within the tube.
Mostly in racemes the older flowers are at the base (as above) as the tip continues to grow,
but there is no such evident pattern in the photo below.

Sometimes the racemes are short with relatively few flowers.

Grevillea alpina, Micalong Falls west of Canberra.

Rusty Grevillea, or (my favourite) Seven Dwarfs Grevillea G. floribunda,Goobang NP, New South Wales.

Elongated racemes may be 'toothbrush' types, with the flowers all on one side, or bottlebrush type with the flowers all round the stem.

Grevillea cageana, Southern Cross, inland southern Western Australia, above;
Grevillea excelsior, Hyden-Norseman Road, similar area, below.
These are both toothbrush types; see also several examples above.

Grevillea candelabroides, Kalbarri NP, Western Australia.
'Like a candelabra' is an excellent description in the species name!
This, and the next two, are examples of bottlebrush-type racemes.

Grevillea paradoxa, Ballidu, south-western Western Australia.

Grevillea petrophiloides, Kalbarri NP, Western Australia.

A few species, with small white flowers, are insect-pollinated, but most rely on birds.

Grevillea biternata, Gawler Ranges NP, South Australia.

Dusky Honeyeater Myzomela obscura, on Grevillea cultivar, Darwin.

Grey-headed Honeyeater Lichenostomus keartlandi) on Grevillea wickhamii,Kings Canyon, central Australia.

I hope you've enjoyed this brief visit to the wonderful world of grevilleas as much as I have; my thanks for your company. Perhaps just a few more to finish with...

Desert Grevillea G. eriostacha Kalbarri NP, Western Australia.
A magnificent sight when flowering on red sand dunes.

Woolly Grevillea G. lanigera, Namadgi National Park, near Canberra.
A low shrub growing beneath the Snow Gums.

Grevillea pinaster, South Beekeepers Nature Reserve, south-west Western Australia.

Sandhill Grevillea G. stenobotrya, near Windorah, south-west Queensland.
Another beautiful desert grevillea of the red sand dunes.

BACK ON WEDNESDAY

Ingham is a sugar town in tropical Queensland, and a place where you'd probably not choose to spend a lot of time on your way to more salubrious spots further north. You won't find it hard however to get a decent meal and a coffee there, with over 50% of the population claiming Italian heritage. It's 17km from the sea and sitting in a sea of sugar cane, which rarely makes for environmental benefit or a particularly lovely landscape, though that of course is subjective. Nonetheless, if at all possible you should make an effort to spend a night there on your travels, for just one reason.

Tyto Wetlands comprise some 120 hectares of restored swamp and woodland on
the very edge of town - see the light towers in the background. There are many kilometres of
walking tracks, with hides and raised viewpoints. It is not a gazetted nature reserve, but
seems to be a project of the Hinchinbrook Shire Council - though I'd welcome further information.
With two metres of rain a year, there is generally water present!

Anyone who reads these postings regularly will know that I have a well-developed penchant for pottering around wetlands, and this is an excellent place to potter! It is on the southern edge of town, well away from the busy town centre but still in the suburbs, west of the highway.

As you walk into the complex, initially past the football training fields, the locals will inspect you.

Agile Wallabies Macropus agilis, above, and big male below.
(Most of these photos were taken in the evening or early morning, so the light is muted.)
This is the common wallaby of open country and woodlands across tropical Australia.

There is a mix of open water and reedbeds - inevitably water birds are a feature.

Cotton Pygmy-geese Nettapus coromandelianus, male on the right.
These delightful little ducks are not geese at all, but are generally, though somewhat reluctantly,
placed with the 'perching ducks' - itself probably not a 'real' grouping.
The species is found throughout south and south-east Asia.

Intermediate Egret Ardea intermedia.Another common species and widespread beyond Australia, but too aesthetic - especially in the context
of the water lilies - not to include.

Wandering Whistling Ducks Dendrocygna arcuata (very early morning!).
Another which is found beyond Australia into the islands to the north.
In Australia at least it doesn't actually wander as much as does our other whistling duck,
the Plumed, but it does seem to move around the islands.


Magpie Goose Anseranas semipalmata, the only member of its family, and apparently descended from a very early split from the main line of ducks and geese. These are found commonly in the Australian tropics, but I am always captivated by them (but then, I'm not trying to grow rice!)

As mentioned earlier however, the site does not just comprise swampland. Trees and shrubs are scattered throughout, and many land birds use them.

More views, above and below, across Tyto Wetlands.

Female Blue-winged Kookaburra Dacelo leachii; the male has a blue tail and dark eyes.
This big tropical kingfisher feeds on a range of invertebrates, reptiles and small mammals.
My favourite Australian bird field guide, that of the late Graham Pizzey, memorably describes
the call as 'appalling'. (He does go on to elaborate, but that's an excellent start!)

Crimson Finches Neochmia phaeton are found across much of the tropical north,
generally near water and in tall grassy vegetation.

Rufous-throated Honeyeater Conopophila rufogularis.This inconspicuous little honeyeater is also generaly found near water. Unlike several
of the previous species it is endemic to Australia.

Even weeds can attract birds though (which is not a reason to plant them - the birds like native plants just as much!) One such is the attractive but highly invasive African Tulip Tree Spathodea campanulata, family Bignoniaceae, originally from sub-Saharan tropical and sub-tropical Africa from Ghana to Ethiopia and Zambia, but widely planted in north Queensland, to the detriment of the environment - they are highly invasive and can choke out gullies and waterways. There are moves to eliminate them from wild areas and it is possible that these specimens have been by now removed from Tyto.

Helmeted Friarbird Philemon buceroides in African Tulip Tree.
A large and raucous tropical honeyeaer.

The Yellow Honeyeater Lichenostomus flavus (in the same tree) is found only in tropical Queensland.

Birds aren't the only animals flying around of course; the dragonflies didn't cooperate with my photographic efforts, but this elegant butterfly did.

Orange Bush Brown Butterfly Mycalesis terminus, family Nymphalidae. Her interest in the grass stem is not necessarily
simply as a resting place - she lays her eggs almost exclusively on grasses.

Having said that, one bird really is the star of the reserve - indeed it gave the wetland its name. Tyto is the barn owl genus, and Eastern Grass Owls T. longimembris live in the reedbeds of this wetland. There is even a viewing point dedicated to searching for them when they take flight at dusk.

Owl-viewing platform, Tyto Wetlands.

Here are a couple of views from the platform.

Maybe you can make out the grass owl that I missed on my most recent visit.

Either way, that's just another excellent reason to stop in next time you're driving to or from Cairns or points further north. My thanks to all those who have worked to restore, and maintain, Tyto into the world-class wetland that it is today.

BACK ON WEDNESDAY

'Gull' is a strange word, one of those back-formed in English through both misunderstanding and attempted Anglicisation of a foreign word. (Think of Spanish naranja, heard by English ears as 'an aranja', which became 'an orange'.) In the case of 'gull', it is not at all clear why the word even arrived in western England, from Welsh or Cornish Gaelic, in the 15th century. English is always borrowing words from other languages, and invaders (notably the Norman French) imposed new words on the populace, but Gaelic was certainly not a conquering language, and there is no obvious reason why the doubtless conservative folk of the west felt a need to replace the old cob and mew with another word. The fact stands however that they did. Gullen in Cornish and gwylan in Welsh were words for gull - both meant 'wailing'. However, they were interpreted as plural - like children or oxen - and gull was back-formed as the singular.

Gulls are everywhere, breeding on every continent including Antarctica. They are fairly uniform in appearance - we have no difficulty in recognising a gull, even one we've not previously seen. Indeed for a long time nearly all gulls were placed in the genus Larus, though DNA work has shown this to be too simplistic, and around 10 genera are now recognised. Overall they tend to be black, grey or white (often white head and darker back mantle) with coloured long legs and heavy bills. There are of course exceptions, and we'll come to some of those. Here are a couple of examples, modelling typical 'large gull' and 'small gull' outfits.

Pacific Gull Larus pacificus, Binalong Bay Tasmania, above. As is common for the larger white-headed species,
this bird's legs and beak are yellow, the latter with a red tip.
Below is a beautiful Dolphin Gull Leucophaeus scoresbii, in Ushuaia on Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.
Like many smaller gulls, it has red legs and bill.
Both birds show the fairly standard heavy gull bill, contrasting dark mantle and the pale eye
that is typical of many species when adult.

As I mentioned above, these patterns are by no means universal however. The Arctic-dwelling Ivory Gull Pagophila eburnea, is pure white. On the other hand the Galápagos endemic Lava Gull Leucophaeus fuliginosus is entirely grey-brown.

Lava Gull at sea, Galápago.
This is the world's scarcest gull, with population estimates of less than 250 birds.

Some, in different genera, have dark heads or caps - these species often lose these dark caps when not breeding.

Brown-hooded Gulls Chroicocephalus maculipennis, Isla de Chiloé, Chile.
This elegant little gull is found in much of southern South America.

Andean Gull Chroicocephalus serranus, Lago Miscanti, Atacama Desert, northern Peru.
This species - seen here at over 4,100 metres altitude - is most unusual among gulls in
breeding only at high altitudes.

Swallow-tailed Gull Creagrus furcatus, NorthSeymour, Galápagos.
This exquisite bird is virtually a Galápagos endemic too, though a few pairs also nest on an island
off the Colombian coast. Its large eyes hint at another claim to fame - that of being the world's only
nocturnal gull (I have a strong memory of looking out the cabin window at night and seeing one flying
alongside, illuminated by the boat's lights).
With its markedly hooked bill it takes squid as they rise to the surface.

Wings are long and relatively slender, for soaring above the ocean, and sometimes hovering, albeit somewhat clumsily.

Band-tailed (Belcher's) Gull Larus belcheri, Pisagua, northern Chile.

Brown-hooded Gull, Isla de Chiloé, Chile.

Gulls have independently evolved the response to needing to drink salt water that many other seabirds have also done; glands above the eyes, which filter the blood flowing through them. The resultant salt solution runs in ducts down to the nasal passages, and drips off the end of the bill. (They have this in common with groups as disparate as penguins, petrels, pelicans, cormorants, frigate-birds and sea-ducks, among others.)

Like many different groups of swimming birds too, they have developed webbed feet, by bringing three toes to the front of the foot, and joining them with flexible skin.

Silver Gull Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae, Nowra, New South Wales.
The three forward-facing toes joined by webbing are clearly on display.
This, one of the world's smallest gulls, is seemingly ubiquitous in Australia, including sometimes
far inland. Due to its proclivity for roosting on open spaces - including cricket grounds - it has
become perhaps the most televised bird in Australia!
It's a curious thing that Australia has only 3 of the world's 55 gulls species (not counting vagrants)
but approximately half of the 45 tern species.

This penchant for roosting in flocks is another characteristic; they may gather on the beach or inland.


Grey Gulls Leucophaeus modestus on the beach near Iquique, northern Chile. Remarkably, this gull breeds inland in the harsh Atacama Desert, where presumably the lack of predators outweighs the disadvantages.

A very small part of a huge flock of Pacific Gulls roosting in a paddock near the Tamar River, northern Tasmania.

Among the adult Pacific Gulls above are scattered dark brown immatures. This change from dark or mottled plumage to adult garb over a couple of years for smaller species, or double that for larger ones, is typical of most gulls.

Second year immature Pacific Gull, Esperance, Western Australia.

Immature Silver Gull, Nowra, New South Wales.
The plumage is 'clean' and nearly adult, but the eye, bill and legs are still dark.

Dolphin Gulls, adults and immatures (dark heads) Ushuaia, Argentina.

Franklin's Gull immature, Española, Galápagos.
In this case the adult (below) does have a black head and young birds don't!

Juvenile Swallow-tailed Gull with parent, Genovesa, Galápagos.

A strict hierarchy is maintained in the flocks, especially with regard to food access, and aggression, both threatened and actual, is common.

Dolphin Gull aggression (adult bullying immature, as is usual), Ushaia.

Breeding may take place in colonies or, more rarely, individually. Nests are often just a lined scrape on the ground, but there are variations on this theme.

Kelp Gull Larus dominicanus colony (with Magellanic Penguins),
Isla Magdalena, Strait of Magellan, Chilean Patagonia.

Kelp gull on nest, a ground scrape lined with grass and feathers, Isla Magdalena.

Brown-hooded Gulls over breeding colony, Laguna Coluco, Isla de Chiloé, Chile.

Brown-hooded Gull on floating nest, Laguna Coluco.

Swallow-tailed Gull chick, Genovesa, Galápagos, above and below.
Gull chicks hatch with eyes open and with down feathers; they can move around but
stay in or near the nest to be fed.

Mating tends to be for life, and pair bonds are maintained by displays and mutual grooming.

Swallow-tailed Gull pair allo-preening, South Plaza, Galápagos.

Gulls are widely seen as scavengers - as indeed they are - but they are also quite capable of catching live food (eg the Swallow-tailed Gulls discussed earlier).

Brown-hooded Gulls scavenging spilt fish-meal, Puerto Montt, Chile.

Pacific Gull eating dead fish, Esperance, Western Australia.

Silver Gull with discarded fish-head, Cairns, tropical Queensland.

Kelp Gulls (and Black-browed Albatross) fishing, Strait of Magellan.

Immature Dolphin Gull with shellfish, Ushaia, Argentina.
I have seen Kelp Gulls in Chile carry mussels into the air
and repeatedly drop them on the rocks to smash them open.

Sometimes I think that familiarity, and the ability of some species to make a living on our scraps and garbage, leads to some contempt, or at least a lack of respect, for gulls. Like any animal though they are worthy of our attention - and there are some pretty handsome characters in their ranks!

BACK ON THURSDAY

It's been far too long since I offered a post about Africa (and even longer since I've been there!). I can rectify the former more readily however.

Queen Elizabeth National Park was declared in 1952, and enlarged soon afterwards. It covers 198,000 hectares of rolling grassy and wooded plains in the far south-west of Uganda, some 380kms south-west of Kampala. It lies between Lakes George and Edward - the border with Democratic Republic of the Congo runs through Lake Edward.

Queen Elizabeth National Park marked (somewhat crudely!) in red.

More detailed park map. (Courtesy Safari Bookings.)

For a while the name changed to the arguably more appropriate Ruwenzori National Park (the Ruwenzori Mountains provide a backdrop to the south) but curiously it changed back again more recently, for reasons that evade me.

We stayed at the very nice Mweya Lodge on a peninsula between Lake Edward and the Kazinga Channel which joins the two big lakes. There are several other lodges and camps, as on the map above, but I have no experience of them.

Approaching Mweya Lodge, above and below.
The euphorbias in the foreground are typical of the park vegetation.

I very much like the life-sized statue that greets us on arrival!

The view from the outdoor restaurant, over Lake Edward and the Kazinga Channel, is superb.
Slender-billed and Yellow-backed Weavers work the tables, hoping for left-overs.

Dawn views, above and below, over Lake Edward.

Meals were good, though I confess I didn't try this one.

The lodge grounds are excellent for an array of wildlife - birds, mammals and reptiles.

Yellow-backed (or Black-headed) Weavers Ploceus melanocephalus are bold and ubiquitous.
This seems to be a male moulting into (or out of) breeding plumage.

Swamp Flycatchers Muscicapa aquatica are also prominent here;
they are found right across central Africa.

Grey-capped Warblers Eminia lepida are not nearly as easy to see, though their lovely song
is often present. They are the only member of the genus, in the cisticola family.

Speckled Mousebirds Colius striatus are common enough garden birds in much of Africa, including Mweya,
but they always delight me. There are just six species of mousebirds comprising the family Colidae.

Warthogs Phacochoerus africanus appreciate the watered grounds, where they play havoc with lawns
by digging for roots and tubers. This kneeling posture while foraging is typical.

As can be seen here, they are not at all reticent about approaching the cabins!

Another mammal moves through the grounds en masse too, hunting smaller animals attracted by the amenities offered by the lodge grounds, with a particular fondness for beetles and millipedes. The latter is an unlikely delicacy as many species exude noxious chemicals for protection. They will however eat pretty much whatever comes their way, including frogs, lizards, small snakes, birds and eggs.

Banded Mongooses Mungos mungo are found widely across central and eastern Africa.
Unlike most mongooses they habitually forage in groups of up to 40.

The spectacular Blue-headed Tree Agamas Acanthocercus atricollis loll around the grounds too, though their apparent sloth is in fact an established hunting strategy - they wait for their prey (especially grasshoppers, ants and beetles) to come to them. Like the Banded Mongooses, they too can cope with bitter millipede chemicals.

Male Blue-headed Tree Agama above, female below.
Another characteristic of this lovely dragon lizard is its social structure - unusually among lizards
they live in colonies, with a dominant male and several females and immature animals.

I don't normally do promotions for establishments, but Mweya really is an excellent place for wildlife and scenery. Obviously however there is much more to the park than the lodge, and too much for just one posting; indeed I've realised that I'm going to need three! So, next time I'll look at life across the plains, and in a third installment I'll share a most remarkably wildlife-rich boat trip, along the Kazinga Channel.

BACK ON MONDAY

This is the second installment of my tribute to this magnificent east-central African park. The first part can be read here. With 198,000 hectares, there's a lot of exploring to do by vehicle and pretty much anywhere you go is likely to be of interest. Like all Uganda's parks, Queen Elizabeth suffered badly during the Amin years, with most large mammals being shot by the military for food and fun, but they are all repopulating well now. While this park is not Kruger, it's very well worth while visiting, and worth leaving time for driving, as well as the mandatory launch trip on the Kazinga Channel - which will be the subject of the third episode in this series. There are apparently nearly 100 mammal species living in the park and over 600 birds - that's not a lot short of the Australian total!

Uganda Kob in savannah landscape, Queen Elizabeth NP; hazy Rwenzori Mountains in background.

The park is in the Albertine Rift, the western arm of the Great Rift Valley of East Africa, which is gradually tearing open and will one day see north-eastern Africa floating off as a separate land mass. More information, especially including a map, can be found here.

While obviously a park of that size will not be uniform, the overwhelming impression is of vast grassy savannah lands supporting stands of trees, especially Candelabra Trees Euphorbia candelabrum andPaperbark Acacias Vachellia (formerly Acacia) sieberiana.

Candelabra Trees; this Euphorbia woodland is very typical of much of the park.

Thorntree 'acacia' woodland; also very characteristic.

In the far south of the park, the Ishasha section is famed for a population of lions which regularly climb into the big figs - not to be seen on the day we were there however. Here the Ishasha River is the border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Hippos in the Ishasha River, with the Congo just behind them.
And birders really can be nerds; as we watched, a Hamerkop flew from our bank to the other side,
and a spontaneous cheer arose - we all now had a Congo bird list!!

Another feature of the park is the group of Katwe Crater Lakes, just to the north of the Mweya Peninsula (see map in previous post). They are relatively recent - no more than 10,000 years old - and are volcanic explosion craters, reminders of the volatile nature of lying on a rifting zone.

One of more than 70 crater lakes in the park; salt has traditionally been mined from some of them.

Lesser Flamingoes Phoeniconaias minor, Lake Munyanyange, above and below.
(This species has recently been movedfrom genus Phoenicopterus to being a single-species genus.)
Lake Munyanyange
Lake Munyanyange

And while we're on birds, this is an appropriate time to introduce some more - as mentioned previously, there are a lot to choose from!

Long-crested Eagle Lophaetus occipitalis in thorny acacia.
At the risk of being anthropomorphic, there seems something incongruous about that wispy crest blowing
in the breeze, behind that ferocious stare and wickedly hooked bill!
Also the only member of its genus, it is found widely in sub-Saharan Africa.

Blue-naped Mousebird Urocolius macrourus, also utilising a thornbush.
This mousebird (see previous post for another species) is found in east Africa
and then in a narrow strip westward across the continent to the Atlantic in Senegal.

Grey-headed Kingfisher Halcyon leucocephala, a truly beautiful dry country kingfisher,
here perched on a Euphorbia while scanning for lizards and insects.

African Pygmy Kingfisher Ispidina picta, a tiny and exquisite woodland insect-eater.

White-browed Scrub Robin Cercotrichas leucophrys, another inhabitant of the dry savannahs.
Neither a robin, nor a relative of the Australian scrubrobins, but an Old World Flycatcher.
Lovely warm colours.

Temminck's Courser Cursorius temminckii, perched on a termite mound in recently burnt grassland.
This is typical incidentally, as they seek out burnt ground, often arriving within hours of a fire.
They lay their eggs on the burnt ground, or if unburnt, often hidden among antelope droppings.
Coursers (and pratincoles, in the same family) are waders which have adapted to dryland living,
chasing insects along the ground.

I have fewer mammals photos from this park than I'd thought - perhaps I'd taken most of them elsewhere previously, though I'll make up for it in the final posting of this series.

This elephant (and I'm afraid I'm not sure from this angle if it's a female or young male) was not
happy at our presence, as indicated by the direct gaze, spread ears (above) and lowered head (below).
Being in a vehicle gives you less confidence than you might imagine in such a situation!

Uganda Kob Kobus kob thomasi, a lovely antelope which appears on the Ugandan coat of arms.

Female Waterbuck Kobus ellipsiprymnus, in recently burnt grassland.

One of the most exciting animals for me however was encountered crossing the road at night while we were returning from a drive.

The African Rock Python Python sebae is Africa's largest snake, and one of the world's largest.
Lengths of over six metres and weights of 50kg are accepted - and of course bigger ones are claimed!
This was nothing like that size, but was impressive enough.

Next time, in my last posting on this beautiful park, we take to the water.

BACK ON FRIDAY

Euphorbia candelabrum, Acacia seberiana

This is the third of a series on this magnificent national park in far western Uganda; the series began here. The Kazinga Channel is a broad natural channel which joins the much smaller Lake George to the east, with enormous Lake Edward (230,000 hectares) to the west. Lake George is technically one of the Rift Valley Great Lakes, but at a mere 25,000 hectares does not qualify for the title! Lake Edward does, but only as the smallest of them. George is higher than Edward and water flows via it from the Rwenzori Mountains to Lake Edward. The bigger lake was for a short and less glorious time of its history known as Lake Idi Amin - it is sometimes referred to as Lake Rutanzige, which I suspect is a much more appropriate local name, but there seems little enthusiasm for its general usage. Lake Edward is divided between Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, with the Congo controlling the majority of it; its shoreline is entirely within national parks. It is believed that the channel results from volcanic activity which filled in much of a formerly vast lake, forming two smaller lakes joined by the current channel, though this may not be all of the story.


View across the Kazinga Channel; there are some fishing settlements within the park, with people living in apparent harmony with the wildlife.

Yes, that's a feared African Buffalo Syncerus caffer dozing just behind them! We also saw people swimming
in waters which, as we will see, are heavily populated by hippos and crocodiles...
Sadly, we shall also get to a story which indicates that the coexistence has its limits.

There is a small launch which runs regular trips into the channel from its mouth at the Lake Edward end, below Mweya Lodge - you won't get anywhere near Lake George however, there is far too much to see! (Not to mention the rapids that block the way.) Indeed it was one of the most memorably wildlife-rich boat trips of my life. The concentrations of hippos and buffaloes alone are simply astonishing.

Part of a buffalo herd on a sand spit.

Wallowing is very popular.

Big buffalo bull - an excellent reason to do your wildlife watching from a boat.

Mother and calf.

Hippos and buffaloes happily coexist - there's enough mud to go around, and they're not competing for food.

Mother with apparent twins.

The Nile Crocodile Crocodylus niloticus story in the channel is a fascinating one. Until the 1950s they weren't found at the western end of the channel - it is suggested that this was related to the volcanic event which formed the channel. Then however, people began to cut paths through the forest alongside the channel, and the crocodiles were able to use them to bypass the rapids which had hitherto thwarted them.

Not all mammals seen were associated with the water though - and I'm sure that at the right time of day many others could be seen coming to drink too.

Guereza Colobus Colobus guereza, a truly beautiful monkey, and certainly a favourite of mine.
While they are not directly associated with water, they are generally found in forests near waterways.
They are primarily leaf-eaters.

This Lioness appeared a couple of hundred metres away and stalked (unsuccessfully) a Warthog.
We were told that there had until recently been a pride of six, but that the villagers had killed four of them,
despite being in a national park.

Warthog Phacochoerus africanus - this one lived to raise its tail another day.

The bird diversity was quite overwhelming, with waterbirds of course predominating. The populations of fish and other aquatic animals in the channel are obviously immense, based on the numbers of fish-eating birds present.

White-breasted Comorants Phalacrocorax lucidus were particularly abundant; these are sometimes
still regarded as a sub-species of Great Cormorant P. carbo.Above with Pink-backed Pelicans Pelecanus rufescens - another demander of lots of fish -
and below with a young Marabou Stork Leptoptilos crumenifer. This bird was in serious need of some anti-bullying counselling.
There is also a Little Egret Egretta garzetta in the right foreground of the above photo.

Grey Heron Ardea cinerea; this is the same species found throughout Europe and much
of Asia, as well as sub-Saharan Africa where it is a breeding resident.

Squacco Heron Ardeola ralloides.This attractive heron has two sub-species which do quite different things. One breeds in south-eastern Europe and the Middle East, from where it flies south to tropical Africa for winter. The other lives year-round throughout most of
Africa and Madagascar. This bird is in non-breeding plumage.

African Skimmers Rynchops flavirostris, and a couple of Gull-billed Terns Gelochelidon nilotica.The remarkable bill of the skimmer is used open, the extended bottom mandible slicing the water
to snap up fish. The terns probably bred in southern Europe.

The African Fish Eagle Haliaeetus vocifer is another voracious piscivore.
Its species name is appropriate - its ringing yelps, often in chorus, form one of the sounds of Africa for me.

The Fish Eagle isn't the only bird of course which is named for its fish-eating habits, and two kingfishers were common along the channel - the Pied Kingfisher Ceryle rudis is in fact abundant, as it can be throughout much of Africa and southern Asia.

This fish clearly needed a lot of tenderising!
This is the only member of the genus Ceryle.

The exquisite little Malachite Kingfisher Corythornis cristatus is another common and widespread
African kingfisher. Like the Pied Kingfisher, but unlike the majority of other species,
the Malachite really does eat mostly fish. For more on this apparent contradiction, see here.

The handsome Yellow-billed Stork Mycteria ibis wades for its fish, like the herons.

Like the Spur-winged Lapwing Vanellus spinosus accompanying the stork above, other waterbirds present do not rely on fish.

The Hadada Ibis Bostrychia hagedash - the common and scientific names are intended to reflect its remarkable
and familiar call across sub-Saharan Africa - favours earthworms and snails.

Egyptian Geese Alopochen aegyptiacus, despite the name are found throughout most of Africa
(though in Egypt only along the Nile). The Ancient Egyptians domesticated them, but after the
Persians inadvertently 'liberated' them 2,500 years ago, the knowledge was somehow lost.

The African Black Crake Amaurornis flavirostra is common and widespread, and unlike many other crakes
is not particularly secretive. Nonetheless I've never had better views than at Kazinga.

Water Thick-knees (or Water Dikkop, perhaps slightly more euphonious, though in Afrikaans it means 'thick head'!) Burhinus vermiculatus are less readily seen, with nocturnal habits and beautiful camouflage.
The thick-knee name comes straight from the species name of the European species; in Australia we've
reverted officially to the folk-name of stone-curlew (though of course they aren't curlews!).

African Jacanas Actophilornis africanus aren't really waders either, but walk on the vegetation,
including on lily pads on hugely extended toes, not visible here.
There'll be a posting here on jacanas one day.

And finally, a bird not directly associated with the water at all.

Yellow-billed Oxpeckers Buphagus africanus taking engorged ticks from a buffalo - though
these have taken time out to squabble, as they do. It seems they're really after the blood from the engorged
ticks and are equally happy keeping wounds open and taking the blood directly.
The two species of oxpeckers, both African, have traditionally been placed with the starlings,
but are now regarded as forming their own family, Buphagidae.

If you go to Queen Elizabeth National Park, you'll of course do this boat trip, but I'd suggest that if you're wavering as to whether to include it in your Uganda trip, Kazinga Channel should just about swing it for you.

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Quite some time ago now I had fun compiling an alphabet of yellow flowers, and have been promising myself another indulgence some time by doing the same with red ones. Today it's warm enough - 35 degrees in my study at the moment - to discourage me from anything too enthusiastic, so it seems the right time to take this option. I have talked before about red flowers in general, so don't feel the need to be at all analytical today.

The aim is to offer one species for each letter of the alphabet, based on the genus name if at all possible. If not, I allow myself to used the species name; I think I've only need to take this option a couple of times, one being for Q. Apart from Y (which doesn't appear in Latin), the only letter I've missed is X, which doesn't seem too unreasonable. Where possible I've gone for less familiar plants, though of course that just depends on what you're used to! So, without further ado, and no further commentary, let's get into it.

Mataguanaco Anarthrophyllum desideratum, a spectacular pea, a spiky cushion-bush endemic to
Patagonia, where it inhabits an arid, rocky, cold and windy world.

Bush Pomegranate Balaustion microphyllum, east of Hyden, Western Australia.
A beautiful ground-hugging member of the family Myrtaceae, found in the rich western sand plains.
There are suggestions that it should be moved into the genus Cheynia, but we needn't let that spoil our fun today.

Cantuta Cantua buxifolia, Colca Canyon, Peruvian Andes; family Polemoniaceae.
This is the national flower of Peru, and co-national flower of Bolivia.

Muchison Darwinia Darwinia virescens, Lesueur National Park, north of Perth.
Another Myrtaceae from the northern sandplains of Western Australia - there really are a lot of them,
many of them red! This species is endemic to a very small area.

Epidendrum ardens, Acjanaco Pass cloud forest at 4000 metres above sea level,
Manu National Park, southern Peru.
This lovely orchid is less common than the equally spectacular E. secundum.

Fuchsia ampliata, Yanacocha Reserve near Quito, Ecuador.
This reserve is one of several run by the wonderful Jocotoco Foundation to protect cloud forests in Ecuador.
This spectacular genus in the family Onagraceae is well-known as a garden special in Australia at least, but I
always delight in seeing such plants in the wild. The 110 species are mostly found in South America, with a few
spilling north as far as Mexico, and others scattered across the Pacific to New Zealand.

Flame Lily Gloriosa superba, near Masindi, Uganda.
This dramatic lily (family Colchicaceae) is found across much of Africa and Asia.
Unfortunately, every part of the plant is highly toxic.

Grass-leaf Hakea Hakea francisiana, Pinkawillinie Conservation Park, South Australia.
(I almost had to include this just for the name of the park!)
Found in sands in western South Australia and southern Western Australia.

Isopogon divergens Kalbarri NP, Western Australia.
You may well object that it is actually pink, but those are the buds - the open flowers at the
bottom of the inflorescence are indeed red, I'd submit.
(And my apologies, but this caption and some subsequent ones refuse to appear in
anything but bold, no matter what I do to them! Life is too short to persist fruitlessly...)

Honeysuckle Grevillea Grevillea juncifolia is found widely across the arid inland.
And yes, there is a fair bit of orange here, but J was tricky!

Running Postman Kennedya prostrata, Ulladulla, New South Wales.
This delightfully named sprawling pea is found across much of southern Australia.

Red Leschenaultia Lechenaultia formosa, Stirling Ranges NP, Western Australia.
Beautiful members of the family Goodeniaceae, mostly confined to Western Australia.
The discrepancy between the common name and genus isn't my error on this occasion -
the great Scottish botanist Robert Brown atypically misspelt the name of French botanist Jean-Baptiste Louis Claude Théodore Leschenault de La Tour - and what splendid name it is!

Chilean Mitre Flower Mitraria coccinea (family Gesneriaceae), Isla de Chiloé, Chile.
A beautiful climbing endemic of the Chilean temperate rainforests.


Nemcia rubra, Stirling Ranges NP, Western Australia. This genus of some 40 pea species is restricted to the south-west; some would incorporate it into Gastrolobium, but that would make my current task a bit trickier...

Horned Orchid Orthoceras strictum, Canberra. This may be stretching the friendship slightly,
but there aren't many red Os! A most uncommon orchid locally, but found widely in south-eastern Australia (where
it is the only member of the genus), New Guinea, New Zealand and New Caledonia.

Limestone Mintbush Prostanthera calycina, High Cliffs, Eyre Peninsula, South Australia.
A threatened species, endemic to the limestone sands of Eyre Peninsula.

Grey Mistletoe Amyema quandang, Byrock, New South Wales.
This widespread mistletoe parasitises acacias.

Red Kangaroo Paw Anigozanthus rufus, Stirling Ranges NP, Western Australia.The amazing kangaroo paws surely merit their own posting here one day.

Blood Lily, Scadoxus sp., Mt Cameroon, western Cameroon.
A genus of African lilies in the family Amaryllidaceae.

Thonningia sanguinea, Family Balanophoraceae, Kibale Forest NP, Uganda.
This remarkable plant, the only one of its genus, is found in much of tropical Africa.
It is parasitic, via its tuber, on other plants. The flowering stem emerges from the ground, as here.

Bladderwort, or Fairy Aprons Utricularia multifida, Boyagen Rock, Western Australia.
Yes I know there's not much red here, but U didn't offer many options!
The bladderworts grow in water and are carnivorous, trapping tiny animals in bladder-type traps in the water.

Scarlet Featherflower Verticordia grandis, Gathercole NR, Western Australia.
The featherflowers of WA are some of the loveliest flowers imaginable;
Verticordia means 'heart turner'.

Wickham's Grevillea G. wickhamii, Bladensburg NP, Queensland.
An impressive dryland grevillea found across northern Australia; highly attractive to birds.

Zephyr Lily Zephyranthes sp., Family Amaryllidaceae, below Machu Picchu, Peru.
This is a family of some 70 species from the Americas.

So, our journey is done - I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

BACK ON THURSDAY

It is probably fair to say that most Australians are entirely unaware of one of the world's most important temperate woodlands, even though many people drive through them on the seemingly near-obligatory journey 'across the Nullarbor', the huge 4,000km trip from the east coast of Australia to Perth, capital of Western Australia. The Great Western Woodlands cover some 16 million hectares - the size of England - of semi-arid, largely waterless country in the area that includes Australia's most recent major gold finds; the region is known, both popularly and formally, as the Western Goldfields. The lack of surface water and low soil fertility (by European standards) means that the woodlands and heathlands of the system have been left largely intact - it is the largest remaining relatively untouched area of Mediterranean climate woodland in the world.


Approximate delineation of the Great Western Woodlands, which in part straddle the Great Eastern Highway from eastern Australia to Perth. However, a more satisfying way of experiencing it is to take the 300km Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track from Hyden to Norseman. It is largely unsealed but perfectly suitable for conventional vehicles.

It is underlain by the Yilgarn Craton, a vast block of very ancient granitics - more than 2.6 billion years old, with some formations 3.7 million years old. The Yilgarn Craton was one of the parts of 'original Australia', the bits to which other lumps of land became stuck as it roamed the world's oceans. (I hope this technical talk isn't too off-putting!) A feature of the landscape is the appearance of granite outcrops towering over the trees.

Granitic outcrop on the Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
A characteristic of these outcrops is the presence of gnamma holes (known elsewhere as panholes or opferkessels),
naturally eroded cavities in the rock; they may be small, as above, or large, below.
They were important water sources for Aboriginal People (and European travellers), and very important
ecological refuges for plants and animals.

Newman Rocks near Balladonia.

Australian Shelducks Tadorna tadornoides on Newman Rocks.
They have few options for water in this part of the world.

Such ephemeral stream lines as there are flow into a system of salt lakes, remnants of ancient river systems; after heavy rains they can fill, offering the ducks their only other opportunity, but mostly they are dry with a covering of salt.

Salt lake, Dundas Nature Reserve, east of Norseman.

As for the woodlands themselves, they are absolutely gloriously and bewilderingly diverse - among some 3,300 flowering plant species there are over 80 species of eucalypt! Think of that next time you scratch your head in an eastern forest with perhaps three or four euc species. And to my eye at least these semi-arid woodlands are very beautiful.

Gimlet Eucalyptus salubris woodland over bluebush Maireana sp., east of Norseman.

Gimlet woodland with samphire near a salt lake east of Norseman.

May I introduce you to a few of these woodland eucalpyts? They are trees you're not going to meet elsewhere for the most part - and like some other western ones, they can be rather more dramatic that some we're familiar with in the east.

Sand Mallee E. eremophila, Balladonia; found throughout the Goldfields.

E. georgei north of Norseman. This one is found in only a few scattered localities,
and I count myself very lucky to have found it.

Detail of Gimlet bark - I just can't get enough of this tree!

Dundas Blackbutt E. dundasii, Norseman. Dundas is the name of the shire.
There is an excellent Woodlands Walk off a scenic drive through a hillside reserve in Norseman,
which introduces several of the trees.
It's east of the railway, accessed from the town via Mines Road and Battery Road.

Merritt E. urna, Norseman.
Merritt is more widely distributed in south-west WA. In the 1920s and 1930s it was heavily
logged in the Goldfields for mine props and firewood. Densely regenerating stands are commonplace.

Coral Gum E. torquata Norseman. Restricted to a small range between Coolgardie and Norseman,
it is often grown as s street tree for its lovely pink flowers.

Dundas Mahogany E. brockwayi, Norseman.
George Ernest Emerson Brockway worked for the WA Forestry Department for 40 years from the 1920s,
and spent a lot of time based in Kalgoorlie. The tree is limited to the Norseman area.

Golfields Blackbutt E. lesoeufii.Restricted to the central Goldfields, south to Norseman.
There were three Le Soeuf brothers, all scientists and zoo directors around the turn of the 19th-20th centuries.
I suspect this was named for Ernest who spent many years working in Western Australia.

Ribbon Bark Mallee E. sheathiana, Goldfields Woodlands National Park, Great Eastern Highway.
This is a distinctive species due to the numerous hanging ribbons of bark,
and more widespread than most of the others featured here.
Jeremiah Sheath worked as a landscape gardener at King’s Park in Perth, becoming Superintendent.
Ill-health, apparently attributed to his all-weather outdoor work, led to extended sick leave from which
the government compulsorily retired him without retirement pay.
The King’s Park Board, presumably through shame, gave him a £100 honorarium. He died in 1915.


Wheatbelt Wandoo E. capillosa, Goldfields Woodlands National Park, Great Eastern Highway. Closely related to the more familiar Wandoo E. wandoo, this one typically grows on crumbling granite ridges.

It would be logical now to proceed to other plants, but frankly there are so many that they deserve their own posting, which they will get next time. Instead I'll conclude this instalment with a few animals that I recall from my times in the Goldfields.

Grey Butcherbird Cracticus torquatus, Norseman.
Widely distributed in woodlands and drier forests across
Australia, closely related to the Australian magpies, currawongs and woodswallows.
Always a delight for its melodious song.

Male White-winged Triller Lalage tricolor along the Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
This small cuckoo-shrike can also be found widely in Australia, but that's no reason to disregard it!

Male Chestnut (or Chestnut-breasted) Quail-thrush Cinclosoma castanotumalong the
Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track. They are limited to dry southern woodlands and mallee,
and generally far less obliging than this one was!

Crested Dragon Ctenophorus cristatus along the Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
Another southern Australian southern dry woodland specialist, which we found to be especially
associated with the granitic outcrops.

I hope that you're already inspired to go and explore, but maybe you could wait until next week so you can see some of the flowers you've got to look forward to as well.

BACK ON THURSDAY

In my last post, I introduced this wonderful vast area of semi-arid woodland, apparently the largest such tract of near-pristine Mediterranean climate woodland in the world - 160,000 square kilometres of it. You can find its location on the rough map in that posting. As promised there, I am going to dedicate this entire post to some wildflowers of the region - though with over 3,300 flowering plant species so far recorded, you will appreciate that this is just a very tiny sampler!

This selection is really a random lucky-dip, determined by what was flowering on my last couple of visits, and where I chanced to stop.

The family Myrtaceae is a very important one in Australia - big genera such as Eucalyptus, Callistemon (bottlebrushes), Leptospermum (tea-trees) and Melaleuca (paperbarks) are very well-known, but there are over 1600 species in some 85 genera in Australia alone, both figures representing more than half of the world totals. Very many of those are limited to the south-west of Western Australia (WA hereafter) - indeed 30 of the 85 Australian genera are endemic to the west! That warrants its own posting one day. And some of what follows I cannot fully identify; with such vast numbers it is obvious that there cannot be comprehensive field guides.

Native Pomegranate Balaustion microphyllum, Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track (see last posting).
This is a WA endemic genus with just one species (a former second species has been moved to another genus).


One-sided Bottlebrush, Calothamnus sp., north of Norseman. This is another endemic genus, but with more than 40 species.

Baeckea sp., north of Norseman. I may well be wrong even with regard to genus here -
please feel very free to enlighten me if you know otherwise.

And for this beautiful shrub, at Newman Rocks near Balladonia, I can only say that it is Myrtaceous!
I asked a botanist friend in Perth - he threw his hands in the air, so I don't feel too badly about it.
But again I'd welcome your assistance.

Proteaceae is another major Australian family, but with far fewer endemic WA genera. Here are a couple of very handsome endemic species, of much more widespread genera.

Orange Flame Grevillea Grevillea excelsior, Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
In flower a spectacular large shrub to 8 metres high.

Grass Leaf Hakea Hakea multilineata, Goldfields Woodlands NP.
Another large spectacular shrub; here in the east we generally expect our hakeas to be demurely white or cream,
but the west tends to be utterly shameless in such things!

Orchids are a highlight of the west too (though there are those who would just observe that "well, he would say that, wouldn't he?"), though again while there are numerous endemic species, the genera are familiar. It is surprisingly difficult to get figures for the west, though the rapidly changing face of orchid taxonomy is doubtless a contributor. I have opted to go with the current general flow and use the older, 'lumping' approach to orchid genera - I admit it's easier, though may not well reflect the diversity and subtlety of the orchid world. However for those interested, I've indicated the Jones and Clements genera in brackets. The following orchids are endemic to the south-west except where otherwise indicated.

Common Spider Orchid Caladenia (Jonesiopsis) vulgata, Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
Common and widespread (and always lovely).

Clown Orchid Caladenia (Jonesiopsis) roei, Hyden.
Same comments apply.


Snail Orchid Pterostylis sp. aff. nana 'hairy', Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track. It is fair to say that there is a fair bit of work to be done on the taxonomy of this group of tiny greenhoods!

Western Wheatbelt Donkey Orchid Diuris porrifolia, Goldfields Woodlands NP.

Blue Fairies Pheladenia deformis, Goldfields Woodlands NP.
This one is found widely across southern Australia.

Eremophilas (the 'desert lovers') form a genus of 220 arid land species, in my opinion some of the loveliest flowers in Australia. Until recently they were included in Myoporaceae, but now they are regarded as belonging in the (perhaps inelegantly named) Scrophulariaceae. Group names include emu bush, for the (largely mistaken) belief that seeds must pass through an emu for germination to occur, poverty bush, for the often harsh habitats, or turkey bush, for reasons that evade me. We found an impressive array (in the rain!) in the immediate vicinity of Norseman.

Turpentine Bush Eremophila clarkei, Norseman.

Silver Emu Bush Eremophila scoparia, Norseman.
A very widespread species.

Crimson Turkey Bush Eremophila latrobei, Norseman.

Two colour forms of Kopi Poverty Bush Eremophila miniata, Norseman, above and below.
This one is a western endemic, but I cannot determine the significance of Kopi.

Boronias are almost synonymous with Western Australia, though there are many eastern species too; Phebalium is another in the aromatic family Rubiaceae (including citrus fruit) which occurs in the south-west and south-east.

Blue Boronia Boronia coerulescens, Granite and Woodlands Discovery Track.
Despite its names, this one can be mauve, though I suspect my camera was having trouble seeing
the blue here, as it sometimes wont to do.

Phebalium sp., north of Norseman.

Lamiaceae is another widespread family of aromatic herbs and shrubs, including most of the garden herbs.

Snakebush Hemiandra sp. (I'm almost sure!), Norseman.

Lachnostachys coolgardiensis west of Balladonia.
This species, and the other five in the genus, are endemic to WA.

Keraudrenia integrifolia, family Malvaceae, north of Norseman.

Scaevola sp. Family Goodeniaceae (again, I'm almost certain), Norseman.

Western Candles Stackhousia muricata Family Stackhousiaceae (or Celastraceae), Norseman.

And I'm sure that's quite enough for you - though I'm equally sure that it wouldn't be enough if you were there. And I really hope that one day you will be; it's a very special area.

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As any regular reader of this blog will have noticed, I tend to alternate between featuring a place or area, and then specific animals or plants. This is the turn of the latter, and it feels like time for some birds again. Sometimes the most apparently obvious candidates are the ones overlooked, and pigeons and doves are familiar animals to just about anyone in the world, in one form or another. There are over 300 species in the family Columbidae (now generally regarded as having no close relatives), found across every inhabited continent, from rainforests to high mountains to woodlands to deserts. Their greatest diversity is in Australia and southern and south-eastern Asia.


Feral Pigeons Columbia livia Cusco, southern Peru. This ubiquitous species was originally a cliff dweller, the Rock Dove, around the Mediterranean, before being domesticated for food and more recently spread throughout the world.

The distinction between pigeons and doves is completely arbitrary (the familiar Feral Pigeon is widely known as Rock Dove, remember), though 'dove' is often retained for smaller, longer-tailed species.

The word 'pigeon' came from the Old French pijon, written variously and first recorded in its current form in England in the late 15th century. Originally it apparently referred to a young dove, though was also used for any young bird. It did not become the generally first-choice term until early 19th century however, gradually replacing terms such as queece, culver and cushat, and in part replacing the older 'dove', which by contrast was of Old English origin. It was apparently from an onomatopoeic word since lost, but presumed to resemble dufe.

Characteristics include a relatively small head on a short neck, compact body, short legs, bare skin around the eyes, and a short slender bill with a constriction in the middle, the pinched shape exacerbated by a cere, soft swollen skin at the base.

This Bare-faced Ground-Dove Metriopelia ceciliae, in Socomora in the high Atacama Desert of northern Chile,
illustrates well the essential elements of the family.

This Galápagos Dove Zenaida galapagoensis, in the port of Puerto Ayora,
is modelling the standard pigeon feet, with three toes forward and one back, like a passerine.
This is an excellent - though not the only - form for perching.

Pigeons have a couple of tricks only shared by a couple of other bird groups. One is in drinking; most birds can only take in water a tiny billful at a time, dipping the lower mandible in and tipping back the head repeatedly. This prolongs the time spent at risk from predators, in the open on the water's edge. Pigeons however have learnt to suck, so they can keep the bill down in the water and take their fill quickly. They do it by creating a sort of peristaltic pump by sending waves of muscular contractions along the oesophagus to pull the water back. (The other group of bird 'suckers' is that of the grass finches, many of which achieve the same result by a quite different mechanism, using their tongues as a double-action scoop, at up to twenty times a second.)

Bar-shouldered Doves Geopelia humeralis, Idalia NP, central Queensland;
the bill can be, as here, submerged to the eyes.

Peaceful Dove Geopelia placida (barred wings and blueish eye-ring) and Diamond Doves G. cuneata, (spotted wings and red eye-ring) near Mount Isa, north-west Queensland.

In addition to its time efficiency, this drinking method enables pigeons to access tiny water sources like shallow puddles and water in crevices not readily available to suck-drinkers.

Bar-shouldered Doves drinking from a film of surface water, Batchelor, Northern Territory.

The other area where pigeons really distinguish themselves is in the production of pigeon 'milk'; of course it's not really milk - that's a mammalian prerogative - but it is a liquid protein food for young animals. Unlike mammalian milk it's produced from the lining of the crop, and it's produced by both sexes. (Flamingos do the same thing, though theirs comes from glands throughout the entire upper digestive tract; it has more fat and less protein than pigeon milk. In emergencies male - and only male - Emperor Penguins can also produce it for a short time, from the oesophagus.)

Pigeon nests tend to be flimsy - from beneath one can often see the egg through the lattice of sticks. Clutch sizes tend to be small, varying from one to three. Fruit-eating pigeons have smaller clutches - obligate fructivores have only one (fruit being low energy food). Green-pigeons eat seed as well as fruit, and lay two eggs.

Common Bronzewing Phaps chalcoptera nest on tree ledge, near Forbes, New South Wales.

Crested Pigeon Ocyphaps lophota nest, Canberra.

Courtship methods vary widely. Many use dramatic display flights, including clapping the wings loudly in the air, and exaggerated rocking, gliding descents with wings angled upwards, sometimes followed by elaborate ground displays. Others however, including many Australian species, stick to the ground displays. The 'bow coo' display is common to many pigeons, which sums up the male's performance - deep courteous bows, each one followed by an equivalently deep 'COO'.

Crested Pigeons displaying (above and below), in a carpark, Erldunda, Northern Territory.

Spinifex Pigeon Geophaps plumiferadisplaying, West MacDonnell Ranges, central Australia.
The object of his desire is out of our sight behind the spinifex grass clump.
These two are the only Australian species with an erect crest, though some species
elsewhere in the world are likewise ornamented.

A pigeon's flight tends to be fast and direct, aided by a generally large wing area. The wing shape however varies with the lifestyle of the bird. A pigeon which conforms to the 'fast and far' generalisation is likely to have longer and slenderer wings, while a ground-dweller which relies on an explosive take-off in emergencies is likely to have shorter rounder ones.

Spot-winged Pigeon Patagioenas maculosa, Socorama, northern Chile.
This bird flies powerfully between feeding sites in its open scrubby habitat.

Diamond Dove, West MaccDonnell Ranges, central Australia.
A small ground-feeding dove which needs to be able to take off fast when raptors appear.

It doesn't always work of course; this Australian Hobby Falco longipennis, was too fast or too cunning for this unfortunate Diamond Dove, Karumba, tropical Queensland.

A pigeon has very large breast muscles - up to 45% of body weight in some species, well above that of most other birds (mostly in the 15-25% range). Fast flyers will not necessarily need a long tail as a rudder; this need increases for birds making rapid changes of direction, such as a bird likely to be pursued in a forest. The cuckoo-doves of Asia and Australia are a good case in point.

Brown Cuckoo-Dove Macropygia amboinensis, north Queensland.

Pigeons overall have not fared very well from humans (though some generalists have benefitted greatly from our alteration of habitats). The extraordinary destruction of every last Passenger Pigeon Ectopistes migratorius, a species measured in the many billions in the United States and Canada into the late 19th century, is well-known to most readers of this blog I imagine. Migrating flocks in the 1860s were reported to be close to 500km long and up to 1.5km wide; I'll pause and try to consider that with you. Severe habitat loss threatened them along with enormous shooting expeditions. By 1914 every single one had been slaughtered, mostly for fun. However at least seven other species have also fallen into the black hole of extinction, in addition to the closely related giant flightless Dodo and two Solitaire species, from remote Indian Ocean islands. Moreover another 24 species are Endangered, 9 of them Critically. Overall 61 pigeon species are listed in some category of Threatened; frighteningly, another 40 are listed as Near Threatened - ie in danger of being threatened with extinction if remedial action is not taken. That is 20% of all pigeon and dove species are at very real risk of slipping from the world, and a third overall are at some risk.

It is hard to conceive that this beautiful bird, not much more than a hundred years ago was one
of the most abundant birds on earth.
Mounted male Passenger Pigeon, Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago. Courtesy Wikipedia.

That's a grim note to end on, but there's far too much to say about this fascinating and attractive group of birds in one posting, so I'll be back next time for a journey through the world of pigeons, introducing groups and species from four continents. I'm tempted to call it a Cook's Tour, but that would be too insensitive...

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Housekeeping; updating some earlier postings

Those South American 'Geese'

Tinderry Temptations

Banksias - grand and beautiful old Australians

Lauca National Park - extraordinarily high and highly extraordinary

Beasts of Many Hues

Kosciuszko in December

Farewell to 2015!

Australian Parrots and Cockies; some one-hit wonders

Aguas Verdes; another good news bird ecotourism story

Glorious Grevilleas

Tyto Wetlands: Ingham's highlight

Gulls; the wailers

Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda. Part 1, Mweya Lodge.

Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda. Part 2; across the plains

Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda. Part 3; the Kazinga Channel

An Alphabet of Red Flowers

The Great Western Woodlands; a botanical cornucopia. Part 1.

The Great Western Woodlands; a botanical cornucopia. Part 2.

A Perusal of Pigeons. Part 1.