I won’t tell if you don’t
Last week I was handed a large leaf of silverbeet. This is not so strange in a town where bartering back yard produce is the norm. However on the underside of the leaf was a striking group of insect eggs (picture left). The obvious question asked was What are they? and the predictable response from me was I don’t know. I have a pretty good track record of identifying adult insects (Mr Google et al. help a lot). But I am less than successful with the identification of eggs, where the keywords are pretty and orange.
So I devised a devious plan. I would photograph the eggs under a microscope, hatch the caterpillars, feed them until they pupated and wait for the adults to emerge and then identify them – just like I used to do when I was a kid. The devious plan however, failed. The eggs hatched before my plan could (hatch that is). And what emerged were not caterpillars but larvae of an insect from the order Hemiptera (pictured right).
Hemipteran insects have sucking mouthparts which they use to extract the sap from leaves. They usually grow by ‘moulting’ through a series of larval states known as instars until they finally emerge as the adult. The trouble with my devious plan was that, whereas caterpillars can be fed leaves cut from the plant, I suspect these instars needed to feed on live leaves to get the sap.
This resulted in devious plan #2. To ensure the young insects got a good food supply I had to find a nearby source of spinach – my wife’s prized vegetable garden. Under the cover of nightfall I carefully deposited the wilted spinach leaf and all the young into the middle of a healthy spinach plant in the aforementioned garden. After all how much sap could they suck? I have since checked the spinach and there is no evidence of the deed. I am hoping the young insects have found their way in life.
I won’t tell if you don’t.
Occupied
No matter how many times we check nest-boxes installed around the district, it still comes as a thrill to find a box with a furry or feathered tenant inside. There have been many previous posts on this blog about nest-box occupants and such posts are invariably well received – cute photos of curled-up critters no doubt help.
So we thought it was worth posting another photo of a huddle of Sugar Gliders (Petaurus breviceps) found in the nest-box on our property the other day – one of two boxes occupied by gliders, with two more containing an abandoned egg, egg-shells and stray feathers, probably from Crimson Rosellas.
We also checked some of the boxes installed after the 2009 fires by the Flowerdale Work Engine in Coonans Reserve. Using the Landcare nest-box camera we discovered Sugar Gliders in two boxes, but the photo images were poor. A surprise was in store at another box designed for parrots when a creature, suspected to be a Common Ringtail Possum (Pseudocheirus peregrinus), decided to grab the camera probe. After a brief tug-of-war, accompanied by some angry hissing (by the possum, not us!) we decided to abandon the idea of getting a photo.
Urban myth confirmed
As a kid I lived in fear of getting out of the car after a trip to the country. Everyone knew the story of the unfortunate driver who accidentally drove over a snake on the road, the snake then wrapping itself around the differential only to drop on to the ground when the car stopped and biting the unfortunate person as they stepped out of the car.
As I have grown older I have also grown wiser also. I believed this to be an urban (or rural) myth. Until recently.
Last week a neighbour of mine was having trouble with the electrics of her car. She took it to the local mechanic. As the car was raised on the hoist a long cylindrical form draped down (see photo above). It was not the fan belt. It was the body of a dead Tiger Snake (Notechis scutatus) – although they did not know it was dead at the time. After much discussion and prodding it was determined that the snake was in fact deceased. Further investigation showed that the snake had worked its way into the headlight bracket where it had obviously got stuck (pictured below). One can only assume it was searching for food or warmth at the time (and then felt light-headed!).
In fairness to the myth, this probably did not happen whilst the car was moving.
So it is proof – if you find a snake under the bonnet of your car it could be an Australian Tiger Snake.
Of course if you find one on top of the bonnet it is most likely to be a German Vindscreen Viper.
Nature won’t be denied
Senecios are a species of daisy found world-wide and are one of the major understorey plants on our bush block. Locally it is known as ‘fireweed’ and as evidenced after the 2009 fires swept through our place it is one of the first colonising groups after a fire.
When we first purchased our block, as wannabe conservationists, we decided that one of our goals was to remove by hand, as far as practically possible, all weeds from the 29 acres of bush. Ivy, cotoneaster, blackberry and thistles were quickly put to the sword. For reasons now lost in the mists of time we incorrectly identified the senecios, particularly Senecio quadridentatus (Cotton Fireweed) as weeds and proceeded to remove them with much gusto. Luckily Mother Nature would not be denied and the next season the Cotton Fireweed was back in the same abundance (by which time we had learned what the plant was and left it alone).
And lucky that was. Cotton Fireweed is the food source of a beautiful and particularly hairy caterpillar of the moth unsurprisingly known as the Senecio Moth (Nyctemera amicus), pictured above. As the name suggests the larvae feed on various species of senecio. This moth is one of the insects captured pictorially by naturalists on the First Fleet. The adult insect (pictured left) is also known as the Tiger Moth because of the orange and black striped body, (not seen in the photo).
Luckily there are still fireweeds on the block for it to enjoy.
Cooling off
With temperatures soaring, our little band of Striated Thornbills regularly find respite in a couple of our bird baths with a drink and a bathe. So they will be likely candidates to be recorded in the Australian Bird Feeding and Watering Study which kicks off today. This is a citizen science project that runs for four weeks twice a year and aims to assess the impacts of providing food and water on bird ecology and diversity. It also looks at the hygiene aspects of bird baths and feeders, and aims to deveop guidelines for people who feed birds to do so with minimum risk to the birds.
Anybody can get involved – simply sign up on the website, follow the set-up directions from there and then spend 20 minutes watching for birds at your bird bath/feeder.
Another way of getting involved with birds locally this week is to join the Murrindindi Birders’ Morning Walk with the Birds at the Yea Wetlands on Thursday 2nd February, starting at 7.30am. Meet from 7am onwards at the Y Water Discovery Centre with your binoculars and/or camera for a guided walk through the wetlands, hoping to see a range of birds and maybe even a Platypus or Rakali. A light breakfast will be provided by the Wetlands Committee following the walk. You are asked to email wetlands.yea@gmail.com if you plan to attend.
When the outside comes in
I live in the bush primarily because of the close proximity of nature OUTSIDE my house. Occasionally however the borders are breached and wildlife invades the inside space. Every winter we expect house mice (not native) to try and find a warm and dry spot to live inside the building. The microbats that inhabit the roof space infrequently are seen fitting around our living room only to disappear in the crack between the wall and the door frame.
I was however surprised this week when confronted by an Eastern Banjo Frog or Pobblebonk Frog (Limnodynastes dumerilii), pictured left, peering from beneath the kitchen shelving. Embarrassingly, sticking to its body (pictured below) was an accumulation of dust, lint and fluff (must have brought it in from outside!).
Pobblebonks are burrowing frogs that spend a lot of time underground. In dry seasons or during hot days they will dig themselves a shelter and then come out after it has rained. The call, said to resemble a banjo string being plucked is quite distinctive but the frog, which can call even if it is underground, is rarely seen. Most people come across pobblebonks when they unearth them whilst digging in the garden.
Don’t be concerned if you happen to dig up a frog. They will soon dig themselves underground again. More concerning is if you dig up half a frog.
Thirst quenching
Upper Goulburn Landcare Network coordinator Chris Cobern is in the enviable position of having Long-nosed Bandicoots (Perameles nasuta) visiting his Kinglake West property. The one pictured at left was captured on remote camera coming out from under Chris’s decking, possibly from a nest, a few weeks ago. Last week the same bandicoot, identified by a notch in its left ear, was recorded on video. Another bandicoot without ear damage visited Chris’s garden the same night and is shown drinking from a pond in a delightful short video clip on YouTube – click HERE to view.
There have been a number of sightings of Long-nosed Bandicoots in the Flowerdale, Kinglake, Glenburn region in recent years, following an unfortunate spate of road-kill bandicoots on the Whittlesea-Yea Road, mostly in 2012. Apart from being recorded on remote cameras, the presence of these endearing little creatures can be identified by the conical holes that they dig in search of invertebrates, fungi and tubers.
Chris will be kept busy topping up his pond in this hot weather, considering all the wildlife – echidnas, wombats, snakes and birds as well as the bandicoots – that he has had using the pond.
The Dilemma of Political Correctness
We have recently become dog owners for the first time. The said canine is very grey around the muzzle, half deaf and half blind (some would say just like me). It is now my companion whenever I journey out to find another blogging subject and will sit patiently by me while I try to get THE photographic shot, irrespective of how long it takes. HOWEVER…
Whenever I go into town the dog seems to have the knack of poo-ing in the most public of places – usually in the middle of the broad grass median strip separating the highway that traverses the middle of town. And being a new conscientious dog owner I am always ready with the plastic bag to pick up the deposits and place them in the nearest rubbish bin.
In the time it takes me to get out the plastic bag and bend down to scoop up the poo, dung beetles have arrived (even before the flies) and are already burrowing in. They come from everywhere. Not being an aficionado of dung beetles I have no idea of the genus or species. Australia has over five hundred species of dung beetles and about two dozen species which have been introduced.
What I do know is that it leaves me with a problem. Do I leave the poo where it is and let nature’s little poo scavengers do their job? Do I pick up the poo (and the beetles) in a plastic bag, knot it up and then deposit the bag in the rubbish (and thereby consigning the beetles to a certain death)? Or, do I pick up the poo and beetles in a plastic bag and then deposit them sometime later under a bush or shrub? I have opted for the latter…but geez it’s a hassle.
The dilemma of political correctness (or is it council by-laws?)
A rude awakening
There we were, trying to enjoy a post-lunch siesta in the searing heat, when we were disturbed by a scuffling sound followed by a clatter and thud as something plummeted past the window. We jumped up to see what it was and discovered a lizard clinging to the brick window ledge – a rather dazed looking lizard that had collected a few cobwebs and spiders on the way down (see picture at left).
Heading outside we took a quick photo before it took cover between a climbing vine, Hoya sp., and the brick wall, where it remained for most of the afternoon. But we could see its tail had spiny scales, and after closely studying the photos we took, decided it was probably a Cunningham’s Skink, Egernia cunninghami. The head scale pattern, the lobes in front of its ear opening and the longer fourth toe all seemed to point to the genus Egernia, but we would welcome any dissenting identification.
It seems it was on the polycarbonate sheets covering a porch area when it lost its footing and slipped down the gap between the roofing and wall. Actually, with its clinging feet, it’s hard to believe it accidentally slipped. There were some more scrabbling sounds above and we suspect there was another skink and they were fighting on the roof’s edge – in an active commmunal species like Cunningham’s, there’s bound to be a bit of squabbling.
Anyway that meant the end of our siesta for the day!
I feel like a Greek god
Those familiar with the Greek classics will know the tale of the 12 Labours of Heracles (Hercules in Roman mythology). As penance for killing his own family Heracles was told by the Oracle at Delphi to serve King Eurystheus. The King assigned him twelve tasks, all of which put Heracles’ life in great danger. The third task was to capture the Golden Stag of Artemis which after a year of traipsing around the Mediterranean (sort of like the first Contiki tour) he accomplished.
This week I accomplished the same task in a fraction of the time. Rustling in the undergrowth in the garden was a Golden Stag Beetle ( Lamprima aurata) – or maybe it’s a Golden Green Stag Beetle (Lamprima latreilli). Either way it’s an impressive looking insect – iridescent green wing casings, blue legs and an orange-pink head.
The male and female beetles of this genus are vastly different in size. The one pictured is a female so the large mandibles which give the beetle the ‘stag’ description are very small (right). The adults feed on dead wood and the larvae inhabit rotting trees. When I was a kid I seem to remember collecting handfuls of these around Xmas time. Up until this week I hadn’t seen one in years.
Maybe capturing the image of a Golden Stag Beetle doesn’t rate with capturing the Golden Stag. Given it’s lunchtime, maybe I don’t really feel like a Greek god – I’ll settle for a Greek yoghurt instead.
Focus On Fauna 