Common or garden
The fierce-looking fellow shown at left is in fact only about 90mm long and harmless. It’s what must be one of our most abundant and visible small veterbrate animals, the Garden Skink (Lampropholis guichenoti).
They are lovely reptiles to watch as they dart around amongst leaf litter after small invertebrate prey or bask in the sun on rocks.
They are oviparous, with females laying 4 – 6 eggs in spring, often in a communal nest. In a good season they can lay two clutches and can apparently even store sperm from a late-summer mating to fertilise their eggs in the following spring.
Another similar skink common in Victoria and often also referred to as a garden skink is the Delicate Skink (Lampropholis delicata) which is of a comparable size but is more of a bronze colour on the back and generally lacks the darker markings of the Garden Skink. Our resident small skinks, shown in the photos here, all seem to be of the (common or) Garden variety.
Really unruly
I have unruly eyebrows (or so I’ve been told) and the older I get the more unruly they seem to become, much to the amusement of my partner. She calls them ‘Dutch eyebrows’ a generalisation which is no way based on fact but probably originated because she met a few more than two people with the aforementioned eyebrows and they all had Dutch ancestry (the others were probably my brother and my legion of uncles!)
I was recently relieved to find a creature with more unruly eyebrows than me, a Feather-horned Beetle (Rhipicera femorata). Granted, it doesn’t have eyebrows but very impressive antennae, but I’m not picky.
Not much is known about this genus of beetle. The male of the species has fan-like antennae, the female, rod-like ones. The white dots on the wing cases are actually patches of hair. It is suspected that the larvae are parasitic on cicada larvae. Not much to go on is it?
I don’t care. Whenever someone has a shot at me about my eyebrows I am going to whip out one of these photos and say, ‘You think that’s bad, check out this. That’s really unruly’.
Wetlands, wildlife and wildfire
Strath Creek Hall is the setting for a talk next Friday by Jo Wood, Environmental Water Project Officer with the Goulburn Broken Catchment Authority – click on the flyer at right for full details.
Jo’s considerable experience includes preparing management plans for wetlands and monitoring wetlands using time-lapse cameras and acoustic equipment to record birds, frogs, vegetation and macroinvertebrates. In the last year she has also been involved with the recovery of wetlands near Shepparton after the Wunghnu fires.
Black Swamp February 2014
Black Swamp August 2014 after environmental water delivery
Clearing and drainage for agriculture and urban/industrial development has led to the loss of more than one third of Victoria’s wetlands since European arrival. Numerous farm dams have been constructed, but they rarely have the complexity or structural diversity of natural wetlands. The remaining wetlands, many of which are on private land, therefore represent a valuable sanctuary for wildlife and native aquatic and wetland plants.
Ronlit has provided us with some wonderful wildlife images from our local Yea Wetlands, where he is an enthusiastic volunteer.
Only a stone’s throw away
In 2007 the Strath Creek Landcare Group published a booklet entitled Birds of the lower King Parrot Valley featuring the most common birds found in the district. The ‘centrefold’ and front cover displayed focal species, woodland birds that were probably once common in the valley but may be on the brink of local extinction. Readers were encouraged to look out for these species as the plantings in the valley should cater for the needs of these indicator species and attract them back.
Of the five birds mentioned, four of them—the Crested Shrike-tit, Hooded Robin, Southern Whiteface and Jacky Winter—have been subsequently seen in the district. The Brown Treecreeper (Climacteris picumnus) has not. (The scientific name is derived from klimax meaning ladder, klimakter meaning rung and the diminutive of picus meaning woodpecker. If you have ever watched a treecreeper in action, it is a very apt description.)
We’re back….almost!
This weekend Macwake and I joined the Yea Birders for their monthly birdwatching outing. We started at the Goulburn Valley Highway at Ghin Ghin Road, moved to the Yea Sewerage Farm and then on to a section of the High Country Rail Trail. At our first stop what should we find but a flock of Brown Treecreepers. Google Maps tells me that the distance from there to Strath Creek is 25 km (via the King Parrot Creek Road). Presumably Brown Treecreepers would not use the road so the distance is considerably less.
So all you Flowerdalians and Strath Creekers, keep your eyes peeled. The Brown Treecreepers are only a stone’s throw away … if you have a good bowling arm.
Awesome and a little scary
Imagine…the air is warm. There is not a breath of wind. And rising through the air on gossamer wings are thousands of flying ants on their nuptial flight. Zooming through these clouds of insects are Fantails and Thornbills making the most of an easy mid-morning snack. It is a scene most of us have experienced on a warm summer night. Now imagine that those ants are huge Bull ants (Myrmecia spp.).
How many ants? Count the antennae and divide by 2.
Over the long weekend on a walk along Cottrells Ridge Track at the back of Flowerdale, we found ourselves among several thousand mating bull ants. The larger winged females (pictured above) were at ground level or hanging from grass stalks while the smaller winged males swarmed in frenzied flight looking for partners with which to mate. Female ants were crash-tackled by up to six 
males at a time (pictured above). The trick if you were a male was obviously to keep out of the way of the female’s pincers. Very often a female could be seen twisting around and unceremoniously removing an attached suitor and flinging him aside (pictured left). Many of the males in their frenzied state seemed to be trying to mate with sticks and rocks (pictured below).
Mating with a rock – it’s not gneiss
Standing in the swarming cloud taking photos was an awesome feeling, yet a little scary given the workers of these ants can give a nasty bite. But the circling males were not worried about a human intruder, having other things on their mind. In fact with all that ant-mating going on, it could be said the air had a sense of ant-i-climax.
Young plumage III
Adult Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike
A couple of earlier posts were about young birds with plumage differing from that of the adults, and here is another example. We came across a pair of obviously young and not too confident birds preening their downy feathers and making unusual, possibly begging, calls, although no adult birds seemed to be in the immediate vicinity. They were identifiable to us as cuckoo-shrikes, and we assumed them to be juvenile Black-faced Cuckoo-shrikes, the common local species. But without the black facial colouring being fully developed (cf adult below), the young birds (above and at right) could possibly be mistaken for White-bellied Cuckoo-shrikes, a species we have come across in Seymour Bushland Park. The fine barring on the crown and dark shadow behind the eye (not clear in the photos) seemed to indicate Black-faced.
The cuckoo-shrikes are neither cuckoos nor shrikes and the origin of the term is somewhat obscure, although probably due to their undulating flight similar to a cuckoo and their shrike-like bill. The Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike has had a wide variety of common names, including Blue or Grey Jay, Shufflewing, Leatherhead, Stormbird, Cherry Hawk and several others. None seems entirely satisfactory for this very elegant bird.
Black-faced Cuckoo-shrikes are migratory, moving north for winter, although not all birds do so and we have recorded them here throughout winter in three out of the past fifteen years. The unmistakable call of the adult bird, recorded locally, can be heard by clicking on the audio below.
Fly United
Damselflies and dragonflies make up the insect order Odonata. For anyone who has walked past a dam in summer the mating process is probably very familiar. Males patrol and aggressively defend a territory of water. After he attracts a mate, the male will grasp the female behind the head with claspers on the end of his abdomen. Pictured left are two Aurora Bluetails (Ischnura aurora) in that position.
Mating occurs when the female curls her abdomen underneath the male and picks up the sperm from a location where the male has previously placed it (see picture right). This is called the heart or wheel position. The pair will then fly in tandem, with the male still grasping the female behind the head while the female deposits eggs on submerged plants. In this way the male ensures that his sperm is used to fertilise the eggs, because if the female is left alone other males can scrape out the sperm of a previous male and deposit their own.
I have observed many damselfly pairs land on the appropriate vegetation so the female can deposit the eggs on underwater stems and leaves (pictured left). I recently witnessed an extraordinary display of stamina, when over the course of an hour a female dragonfly grasped and laid eggs on several different submerged stems. 
During the entire time, the male remained in flight and fended off continuous attacks from other males (right). The mating game out there is tough!
Just some more Odonata data for you.
Heaven sent
A sure sign that I have been busy is two Macwake posts in a row on this blog. In a desperate attempt to write a post I was sitting at my computer staring out of my office window when a swallowtail butterfly appeared to drop from the heavens, gracefully float past outside the window and land on the lemon tree. The butterfly (pictured left) was a Dainty Swallowtail (Papilio anactus) alternatively known as the Small Citrus Butterfly. Existing along the east coast of Australia the range of this butterfly has probably been extended into central and southern Victoria by the planting of citrus trees, the larval food source.
And sure enough a single, pale yellow spherical egg was laid on the tip of a young lemon leaf (pictured right). The ongoing life-cycle will be the topic of another post but until then I’d better find something to write about for next week.
Collateral damage
This ugly sight confronted fish research scientist Jo Kearns recently while she was mapping fish habitat along the King Parrot Creek. The photo shows a cormorant, probably a Little Pied Cormorant, hanging from fishing line left strung across the creek by a careless angler.
(We hate to think of an alternative possibility that the cormorant was deliberately killed and tied up – cormorants are not the favourite birds of some fisher-persons !)
It is not uncommon to see litter and tangled fishing line left along the creek and in overhanging vegetation. As well as being an eyesore, this presents a potential death trap for wildlife including birds, platypus, rakali, turtles and fish. So, a plea to anglers: retrieve any tangled line for the sake of the creek’s wildlife.
Incidentally, on a positive note, a platypus watch held last Saturday by Strath Creek Landcare and Flowerdale Landcare at several observation points along King Parrot Creek for one hour at dusk recorded a total of 8 platypus.
Well camouflaged
Here’s a bird you’re unlikely to find on a bush block. It’s an Australasian Pipit, formerly known as Richard’s Pipit, an open-country bird you might see even on a heavily-grazed paddock, as this one was between Strath Creek and Flowerdale.
Despite its apparent vulnerability as a bird that feeds, roosts and nests on the ground, it is fairly common and is found throughout most of Australia, as well as New Zealand and New Guinea. Its secret to survival is probably its excellent camouflage and its swiftness in both running and low flight.
It’s not an easy bird to detect, but after straining to spot even one, we eventually realised there were at least five scurrying around, probably after the many small grasshoppers among the grass tufts. The pipit’s pale eyebrow and white edges to its tail are indicators of its presence, and it often perches on rocks or fences, flicking its tail up and down.
Its unobtrusiveness was highlighted when a second bird showed up in a couple of photos that we hadn’t even noticed in the paddock!
At breeding time in spring/early summer we have seen a male pipit displaying in a courtship flight, swooping and rising while repeatedly emitting a drawn-out trill.
Focus On Fauna 