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.
The Hunters and the Hunted
Transverse Ladybird (Coccinella transversalis), adult and larva, & aphids
Spring and early summer are the time of garden shows in the valley. For those with the taste for European gardens, roses seem to be the showy flower of choice. But whilst visitors walk around admiring the blooms, right under their noses, on the millimetre scale, nature’s life and death struggles continue unabated.
Most gardeners, particularly of roses, will acknowledge aphids as one of their main garden pests. Aphids are soft bodied sap-sucking insects. Many species are plant specific in that they only feed on one type of plant. They congregate on plants in large numbers. When a particular stem or flower becomes overcrowded new aphids are born with wings so that they can move to another food source.
Lacewing
What can stop these ravenous hordes? There are a number of insects (and their larvae) that feed on aphids. A surreptitious peek at the underneath of the blooms during the garden shows revealed not just aphids in abundance but also their predators grazing on them. Ladybirds, ladybird larvae, lacewings and parasitic wasps were all there – nature’s balance being maintained.
Parasitic Wasp
In fact there were so many aphids and things feeding on them I am sure if people walked around the gardens listening, the visual feast of the flowers would have been accompanied by the audio soundtrack of quiet sucking and munching.
A Tawny tale
Arriving at the chook shed to fix a hole where a fox had got in and wreaked havoc with our hens, we discovered that someone had left a feather duster outside the shed – or so it seemed. It turned out to be a fluffy Tawny Frogmouth chick who presumably had fallen out, or prematurely tried to fly out, of a giant Yellow Box tree that overhangs the shed.
With the young bird looking very vulnerable and a fox known to be around, the question was: to intervene or not? Unable to locate a nest or any adult birds in the tree, we felt there was the possibility that the chick had been abandoned, but there was also a chance the parents were keeping an eye on it – and us! In the end we lifted the ball of fluff, without protest, from the ground onto the low roof of the shed, hopefully out of reach of any fox.
After dusk we discovered the chick gone, but a couple of frogmouth silhouettes swooping low around us and emitting a soft ‘woop-woop-woop’ (rather than their usual resonant ‘oom-oom-oom’ call) indicated that it had not been abandoned. Next morning the chick was back in the same spot on the ground outside the shed gate. So repairs were again put on hold.
A more careful scan of the tree finally revealed the rudimentary nest with one adult bird and what could have been another fluffy juvenile beside it. Further out on a limb was another adult showing its beautifully patterned plumage. A couple of hours later the presence of a second wide-eyed chick was confirmed as it had shifted position to be beside the second adult – see photo at left.
On nightfall our little friend showed it could at least get off the ground as it flapped up onto fence wire then the top of a couple of gates. Somewhat reassured we left it to its own devices.
After a wild windy night none of the frogmouth family were visible the following morning – not surprising as the nest was on the exposed windward side of the tree. But the fate of the brood is unknown. It’s a tough world out there and we can only hope for the best. But at least the repairs to the chook shed can proceed in time for the arrival of a new lot of hens today.
Click on any of the photos below to view as a slide show.
Third time lucky
Back in September we ran a post about a pair of Eastern Spinebills nesting in a bushy bay tree close to our house. That event ended badly when we discovered the two still unfeathered chicks gone and the nest abandoned. The parents were not having much luck as that was the second nest in the same tree. We suspected the culprit in both failed attempts was a Grey Currawong which had been hanging around the garden.
Being persistent, but perhaps not very smart, the pair of spinebills soon started building a third nest in the opposite side of the same tree. To our surprise their persistence paid off and two fledglings eventually left the nest. A couple of days later one was spotted in a melaleuca, lacking the coloration of its parents and trying to pretend it was invisible – see photo above.
