9/4/11-17/4/11: Bowra Part 3- Best of the rest

There were several frog species around, a result of the plentiful standing water. Familiar species like Green Treefrogs (Litoria caerulea), Desert Treefrogs (L. rubella) and Emerald-spotted Treefrogs (L. peronii) abounded [there were several that had permanent residence in the toilet bowl (header pic; courtesy R. Yong)], but we also managed to find two species of burrowing frog (Cyclorana alboguttata (right) & C. novaehollandiae), two marsh frogs (Limnodynastes fletcheri & L. tasmaniensis) and most intriguingly, a desert toadlet, identified as Uperoleia rugosa/capitulata (below). Toadlet taxonomy is another famously confused and foul conundrum; depending on who you ask, U. capitulata is either separate to or synonymous with U. rugosa. The current majority opinion is that they are identical, and as U. rugosa is the senior species, it threatens to subsume the former. Either way, most of these species are either rare or nonexistent in greater Brisbane, so seeing them was something special.


Native mammals were stop-start; there were plenty of red and grey kangaroos about, and a few Common Wallaroos, but it was the microfauna we were really interested in and fortunately for us the few we saw were notable. The claypans were most rewarding, yielding two species new for the sanctuary: Giles’ Planigale (Planigale gilesi) (left; pic courtesy J. Rowland)and the Stripe-faced Dunnart (Sminthopsis macroura) (below; pic courtesy J. Rowland), two small marsupial predators that push all the adorableness buttons. The Harp traps were also fruitful, yielding several bat species including Gould’s Wattled Bat (Chalinolobus gouldii), Lesser Long-eared Bat (Nyctophilus geoffreyi), Inland Forest Bat (Vespadelus baverstocki) and two species of broad-nosed bat (Scotorepens balstoni & Scotorepens sp.), the last one an as-yet undescribed species (below; pic courtesy R. Yong); microbats are one of those animal groups whose taxonomy seems to be in a perpetual state of flux.



Stripe-faced Dunnart


Undescribed Broad-nosed Bat (Scotorepens sp.)

These and other small mammals are less well-known than the more charismatic kangaroos, wombats and echidnas, but they form the bulk of Australia’s mammal fauna, and being voracious predators, are important components of the dry country biotopes. Nevertheless, their unassuming habits and often-restrictive lifestyles mean many species are highly endangered; finding several individuals of these native mammals is indicative of the need to regulate and manage Australia’s sensitive dry country ecosystems, not only to protect charismatic wildlife but also relatively obscure creatures such as these.


The regularity of work meant we had precious little time to regard the avifauna around us, but we did manage to come away with some good sightings. Bowra is particularly famous as a sanctuary for the Hall’s Babbler (Pomatostomus halli) (above), the most restricted in range of the four Australian babblers. Sure enough, we managed to sight mobs of these birds with some regularity, indeed one of our sites was located within the territory of one family, meaning we were at one point treated to daily views of this special dry-country bird. Another local specialty to offer good views was the Chestnut-breasted Quail-thrush (Cinclosoma castaneothorax)(right). These attractive birds are not the rarest, but they are notoriously elusive, often affording birders no more than a fruitless pursuit around the mulga chasing their calls -a ventriloquic high-pitched “seeee”- and a fleeting glimpse as it runs for cover. We were therefore fortunate, not only to be able to see them on several occasions, but to come away with premium views.


Bowra was also known as a good site for both Grey Falcons and Letter-winged Kites; these, however, again proved elusive- another trip, another blank for Jeremy, who’s racking up the miles fruitlessly searching for both these species. As for myself, I managed to come away with decent views of Restless Flycatchers (Myiagra inquieta) and Spotted Bowerbird (Chlamydera maculata) (above), both new ticks, and Bourke’s Parrot (Neopsephotus bourkii) (left) which felt like a whole new tick, given my only previous sighting was the most fleeting of glimpses from a moving vehicle. Parrots were particularly bountiful, and we saw six other species: Blue Bonnets (Northiella haematogaster) (below), Mallee Ringnecks (Barnardius zonarius) (below), Red-winged Parrots (Aprosmictus erythropterus), Major Mitchell’s Cockatoos (Lophocroa leadbeateri) (below), Little Corellas (Cacatua sanguinea) and Mulga Parrots (Psephotus varius).


Blue Bonnets (and Black-faced Woodswallows)


Major Mitchell's Cockatoos


Mallee Ringneck Parrot

All the iconic outback species were present: Woodswallows [four species: Black-faced (Artamus cinereus), Dusky (A. cyanopterus), White-breasted (A. leucorhynchus) (right) and Masked (A. personatus)], Brown Treecreeper (Climacteris picumnus) (below), Sacred Kingfisher (Todiramphus sanctus), Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys), White-winged Fairy-wren (Malurus leucopterus), Red-capped Robin (Petroica goodenovii), Striated Pardalote (Pardalotus striatus), Chestnut-rumped Thornbill (Acanthiza uropygialis) and Crested Bellbird (Oreoica gutturalis). Less common species included Chestnut-crowned Babbler (Pomatostomus ruficeps), Red-backed Kingfisher (Todiramphus pyrrhopygius), Painted Buttonquail (Turnix varia), both Stubble and Brown Quail (Coturnix chinensis & C. ypsilophora) and Spotted Nightjar (Eurostopodus argus). Raptors were thinner on the ground, but we nevertheless got decent views of the most common species, including Whistling Kites (Haliastur sphenurus), Brown Falcons (Falco berigora) (below) and most impressively a Nankeen Kestrel (Falco cenchroides) eating a Bearded Dragon.


Brown Treecreeper


Brown Falcon at sunset


Nankeen Kestrel

The ones I had been really hoping for though were Australian Bustards and Brolgas. Both species had eluded me the previous trip and I was desperate to get them; the former is rare this far south and might have been a pipe dream, but surely I would get Brolgas? As our trip wound down it became increasingly clear I would miss out once more. We heard Brolgas one morning but that was as close as we would come; they were clearly toying with our senses, tormenting me with titillations but no more. Leaving Bowra, we had our eyes peeled, but as we left Cunnamulla steadily behind, hope disappeared. I was all ready to give up when Jesse suddenly started: “Brolgas!” And there, flashing by the window at 110km/h were a pair of stately Brolgas, standing insouciantly in a mud puddle by the highway bordering a worse-for-wear paddock. There a second, gone the next, with nary a picture but an eternal memory to commemorate the moment I first saw these majestic birds. The return was rushed, as we had to cover the entire distance in one day. The route replicated the one Jeremy and I had taken back from Scotia: Cunnamulla to Dalby to Brisbane, with a lunch stop at St George. The little wildlife we saw whizzed by; most notable was a Spotted Harrier (Circus assimilis) over the highway approaching Moonie. By nightfall we had passed Toowoomba and our journey was soon over.

So it was that we left Bowra. We had spent a week there, during which we managed to experience the joys of the dry country’s animals both charismatic and obscure. It was hard work for a good cause richly rewarded, and we can only hope that further fulfilling experiences are in the offing.

9/4/11-17/4/11: Bowra Trip Part 2- Rigor & Reptiles

Stony mulga with Eriacne/Eremophila understorey

The pattern was quickly established and rigorously adhered to: a rolling system was devised wherein we would awaken early every day to check 2-6 trap sites, construct one more and take down those that had been up for three days. Being smaller than Scotia, Bowra was easier to get around, and between us three, the two ecologists and one other volunteer who stayed for half our trip, we had plenty of hands to efficiently carry out all the tasks. Checking traps was the easy part; digging in holes for the 10L buckets was far more arduous: the soils we dug in alternated between highly compact alluvial clay and loose clay interspersed with gibber stones and boulders. Digging bars were necessary to help break through the hard soil and rocks, which were sometimes even bigger than the buckets themselves. After that, laying the traps and setting up the camera and Elliot arrays was a comparative walk in the park!

The other worry was the large numbers of feral animals present; unlike Scotia, Bowra has, as yet, none of the infrastructure for keeping out feral animals. As a result, wild goats, pigs, foxes, cats and rabbits run riot through the sanctuary. Additionally, the deal struck with the previous landowner allowed him to continue running his livestock on the sanctuary until the end of June, meaning cows and horses were also present (right). To top everything off, the mouse plague was in full swing, ensuring we would catch a healthy crop every night, not to mention a fair few in the house! The result was a fear of having our sites trampled (which happened on several occasions) or our trapping efforts otherwise compromised. In one memorable incident, I was baiting an array of Elliot traps when I heard one trigger behind me. I peered through the bushes to see a ruddy fox had set off a trap and made off with the bait! The next morning, no less than 12 of the 20 traps had been either dud-triggered or had the bait stolen out of them, at least one of them had been pissed and defecated upon; we caught nothing. All this without even mentioning the effect so many clod-footed and cloven-hoofed grazers would have on the environment.

If the blatant persistence of ferals was depressing, however, the numbers and variety of native animals we did find provided an exciting and spirit-raising counterpoint. Every day brought some creature that was new for us, and indeed a good number that had never even been previously recorded for the sanctuary. While I had somehow contrived to go without seeing a single snake on the previous trip, this time we managed no fewer than six species, including three from the brown snake complex: Strap-snouted Brown Snake (Pseudonaja aspidorhyncha) (left), Mengden’s Brown Snake (P. mengdeni) (below) and Ringed Brown Snake (P. modesta). We also found another Dwyer’s Snake, a Curl Snake (Suta suta) and a feisty baby Mulga Snake (Pseudechis australis).


Mengden's Brown Snake (Pseudonaja mengdeni)

Curl Snake (Suta suta)

Mulga (King Brown) Snake (Pseudechis australis)

There were also plenty of interesting lizard species, most notably the two Pebble Dragons we found in stony mulga. True to their name, these lizards are one of the most fascinating examples of reptilian mimesis, their pattern and body contours splendidly camouflaging them amidst the scattered stones and pebbles. It was out of sheer serendipitous luck that we found them: the first was a tiny baby Smooth-snouted Pebble Dragon (Tympanocryptis intima) (right) that I initially thought was a mole cricket, such was its size and scurrying nature. We subsequently found another of similar size, and Jesse managed to see a second species, the Lined Pebble Dragon (T. lineata) (below) on our last morning. Other dragons getting about were Nobbi Dragons (Amphibolurus nobbi), Burns’ Dragons (A. burnsi), Bearded Dragons (Pogona barbata) and Central Netted Dragons (Ctenophorus nuchalis) (below); this last one was new for all of us.


Lined Pebble Dragon (Tympanocryptis lineata). Photo courtesy Jesse Rowland.

Central Netted Dragon (Ctenophorus nuchalis)

We also managed a handful of geckos: Bynoe’s Gecko (Heteronotia bynoei), Varied Dtella (Gehyra variegata), Fat-tailed Stone Gecko (Diplodactylus conspicillatus) (left) and Tessellated Stone Gecko (D. tessellatus) (below). We had never seen either Diplodactylus species before, and unbelievably I had to wait this long to see my first Bynoe's Gecko and Varied Dtella; thankfully there were several of these common inland species about for me to appreciate. There had been initial hopes for other interesting species like Strophurus and Nephrurus, but these ultimately came to nought.


Tessellated Stone Gecko (Diplodactylus tessellatus)

Skinks were similarly profuse, ranging from the familiar [Common Bluetongue (Tiliqua scincoides) and Tree Skink (Egernia striolata)] to the unexpected [Ctenotus ingrami (right)and C. leonhardii (below), both new records for Bowra]. In between were some moderately interesting species, including the tiny Dwarf Skink (Menetia greyii), Southeastern Morethia (Morethia boulengeri), Royal and Barred Ctenotus (Ctenotus regius & C. schomburgkii), Metallic Fence-skink (Cryptoblepharus metallicus) and tiny wormlike Mulch Sliders (Lerista fragilis).


Ctenotus leonhardii

8/4/11 - 9/4/11: Bowra Trip Part 1- Bendidee and Beyond

Deja vu as once again we found ourselves piled into a large, rugged vehicle and headed west. This time, the destination was Bowra, another AWC sanctuary located approximately 850km west of Brisbane, near the town of Cunnamulla. The plan was to stay for a week and help with the general fauna surveys on the property; we were accompanied this time by Jesse, who provided his new vehicle, a sturdy, tough, rough on the edges, rough on the inside Defender, with its long-trip debut. The route we took would see us head south thru Millmerran and Goondiwindi before travelling westwards via St George (see map, below). In between, we would camp overnight at a local national park of Jesse’s choosing.


We left on the Friday afternoon [work commitments precluded an earlier embarkation], leaving behind a rainy, gloomy Brisbane. No sooner had we hit the Warrego Highway did the clouds clear, and by the time we approached Gatton the sun was fully in our eyes. We fairly sped through Toowoomba and via a dinner at Millmerran, were en route to Bendidee National Park, a little-known patch of forest in between the Cunningham and Gore Highways. Getting to it entailed a drive of about 15km on desolate Wyaga Road, which always augurs well for wildlife spotting. The drive brought quick reward, as we soon found our first Brigalow Scaly-foot (Paradelma orientalis) (left), an uncommon species of legless lizard, and a small Dwyer’s Hooded Snake (Parasuta dwyeri)(below). We also noted myriad small mammals scurrying away in our headlights. We at first thought these were native species, like some sort of planigale, but attempts to secure one revealed what they were: House Mice (Mus musculus). By the time we reached Bendidee and our campsite, we had seen dozens of them on the road, and they would further torment us at our campsite. I was periodically awoken by one rustling underneath my tent near my head, but Jesse copped it worst: sleeping in an open swag he had to retreat to the car by 1am, driven there by mice crawling over him and stealing his hair. Like all the other outback denizens, the mice were evidently prospering in this boom period. The park was alive with the calls of Tawny Frogmouths, Masked Owls and Owlet-nightjars, distant Fallow Deer rutting and numerous insects and bats. Even sans mice, I would imagine I wouldn’t have had it any easier getting to bed.


One of the joys of such travel is ‘the morning reveal’, when one wakes up and has the true nature of the place s/he arrived at the previous night revealed. In the cold light of morning, Bendidee revealed itself: a mixed dry sclerophyll/casuarina forest, the understorey and odd bare patches strewn with saltbushes and the tall eucalypts hung heavy with ripe mistletoes (right; top image). A quick sunrise birding sojourn brought all the regulation species: Rufous Whistler, Brown Quail, Yellow-faced Honeyeater, Noisy Friarbird, Willie Wagtail, Inland and Yellow-rumped Thornbills and Leaden Flycatcher. By 7:30 we were on the road again, getting brief glimpses of Black-striped (Macropus dorsalis) and Red-necked Wallabies (M. rufogriseus).

This stretch of our journey was used to field-test an experiment Jeremy had devised, basically a road transect survey of raptors; by logging the birds of prey along each stretch of highway and data regarding their habitat quality, we would be able to make inferences on the impacts of land use on different species. This meant we all had our eyes peeled, and until St George the birds did not disappoint: in those four hours we logged Wedge-tailed Eagles, Whistling Kites, Black-shouldered Kites, Black Kites and plenty of Nankeen Kestrels. To say the final leg between St George and Cunnamulla was a disappointment, however, would be a gross understatement; maybe it was time of day, or just plain luck, but the entire 300km of the Balonne Highway yielded nary but a single Wedge-tail. In fact, there were barely any birds at all, save for a few Mallee Ringneck Parrots (Barnardius zonarius). It made for a rather boring afternoon, and we were glad to pull into Cunnamulla, where a quick pit stop yielded the first of innumerable White-plumed Honeyeaters (Lichenostomus penicillatus). From there it was just a quick trip to Bowra, which lay only 10km from town.

A quick passage about Bowra: A recent purchase by the AWC, Bowra was -and until the end of June, still will be- a cattle property, covering about 16kha, about a quarter the size of Scotia. The environment was also very different to Scotia’s: where the latter featured predominantly red sandy soils, mixed mallee and spinifex swales, the former is a mix of clayey grass plains and mixes of stony mulga, acacia, chenopod and Eremophila scrub; it’s remarkable to an outsider how even an area as synonymous with monotony as the outback can have such a range of dissimilar habitats. Unlike Scotia, which had no permanent water sources other than dams, Bowra had stretches of river running through it, creating small areas of riparian eucalypt-dominated habitat, in addition to several dams and piped bores. The fauna is characteristically semi-arid-zone, with its distinctive suite of reptiles and a range of common inland birds and mammals. Our arrival and obligatory introductions were followed by our briefing: there were to be none of the bird surveys we had at Scotia; our work was centred on constructing and using pitfall arrays, along with Elliot traps for small mammals, camera traps and Harp traps for bats. Our home for the next week was a wooden shearer's quarters, very cosy and well-equipped. As night fell and the temperature dropped, we went to bed, lulled to sleep by the sound of owls and frogs down by the nearby pond. Peace, before the hectic tumult of the coming week.

8/4/11 - New trip planned!

Dear readers and followers:

We haven't gone anywhere this past week due to the usual factors: dud weather and work commitments. Sorry about that. Here's a scorpion.


We have, however, been planning a new trip, and it will commence this afternoon as we drive once more 1000+km out west, this time to Bowra. Located just northwest of Cunnamulla, Bowra is another Australian Wildlife Conservancy property. Formerly owned by Birds Queensland, it protects 14000ha of sensitive bushland habitat in the Warrego-Paroo river catchments, including 14 different ecosystems ranging from coolibah woodland to scrubby grasslands. Unlike Scotia, this sanctuary has plenty of natural standing water including, it appears, a permanent billabong.

All of which means we should have plenty to see and plenty to document. Our central aim is to, once again, volunteer on some fauna surveys, which will involve all the usual trapping methods: trip cameras, pitfall, Elliot and harp trapping, bird surveys etc. It might be touch-and-go for herps as winter is upon us and stuff will be entering hibernation, but there are a few mammals around [the station lists Kultarrs as present and confirmed; do an image search if you wish to brighten up your day!], and lots of birds!

Most of the avifauna will be familiar to us from Scotia, but there are a few iconic species we can hope for, including a few we missed the last time we passed through: Chestnut Quail-thrush, Hall's Babbler, Painted Honeyeater and Blue-winged Parrot. We will, of course, be continuing our quest to find a Grey Falcon and a Letter-winged Kite, and I will be hoping to seal the deal with some glaring omissions from last time (see 11/11/10- Day 24), most notably Brolgas, Australasian Bustards and White-backed Swallows.

We will be gone from this afternoon till the following Sunday (17/4/10). This time we'll be journeying with our good mate Jesse, who had a brief overlap in time with us at Scotia; we'll be driving up in his four-wheeler. Here's hoping it will be a productive trip, and until then, happy hunting to everyone! Peace.

R & J (and J!)

19/3/11 A sodden, sodden Lockyer...

A very full Lake Clarendon

[N.B: All the photos in this entry were taken by me and not Jeremy; you can tell by the dramatic difference in quality!]

The sun did not shine, but we tried to play; we were NOT sitting in that house all that cold, cold wet day! I went out with Jeremy, Taryn and Jesse too; boy were we killing for something to do! We'd planned a trip to Crows Nest, and though the weather filled us with dread, we were determined to do our best, to ensure a trip went ahead...


Such was the erratic state of Brisbane's autumn weather. We had had wonderful bluebird skies for much of the week, and as such had made plans to camp out over the weekend and explore the Ravensbourne region, about two hours northwest of Brisbane (see map above). Our aim was to explore two patches of national parkland: Ravensbourne NP and the nearby Crows Nest NP, famous for its Brush-tailed Rock Wallabies (Petrogale penicillata). Two other close friends, Jesse [whom readers would have seen mentioned in the Scotia diaries below] and my housemate Taryn, were joining us. The camp site at Crows Nest was booked, and the gear was packed; the weather was not going to be so obliging: leaden grey clouds swept over in all-too-familiar fashion, and by 10am the first misty drizzles began to fall over Brisbane. We could not risk camping [the national park carried a flash floods warning], and our plans were duly downgraded to a day trip to the Gatton region, where it was hoped that the rain would hold off at least for the afternoon so as to allow for some birding. Once on the road, though, it became clear that any hope for a let-up would be a pipe dream. Wave after wave of clouds swept in bringing near-unceasing rain. We holed up in the Gatton McDonalds, trying to keep chipper about our prospects whilst simultaneously watching as the rain washed them away.

Determined, however, to not make this the longest ever foray to a Mackers, we decided to take advantage of the one small window in the weather to make a dash for Lake Clarendon, a large dam just a short drive away. En route, we stopped at a large farm pond which usually held a small amount of tepid murky water and is always a waterbird attractant. The pond, though, was fuller than we had ever seen it, and the surrounding paddocks were lush and green; the area had seen some of the flooding which had so badly affected the Gatton area, and the infrastructure throughout bore the marks of the disaster. Birdwise, there was moderately exciting activity: lots of Australasian Grebes (Tachybaptus novaehollandiae) and Pacific Black Ducks (Anas superciliosa), while an Intermediate Egret (Ardea intermedia) and some Little Black Cormorants (Phalacrocorax sulcirostris) hunted along the reedy margins.


In a next-door paddock, a flock of Magpie Geese (Anseranas semipalmata) stood in the taller grass (above), while a few Plumed Whistling-ducks (Dendrocygna eytoni) grazed the shorter fodder. Most interestingly, however, was one Wandering Whistling-duck (D. arcuata), a close relative of the Plumed, which did an awkward run away from us before taking off. While both species are widespread over Australasia and south-east Asia, the Wandering is generally less common; this was my first official sighting of one and hence a new tick. Both species mix in large flocks that can number hundreds, if not thousands, of birds, but there may be several dozen PWDs for every one WWD. A cacophonous clamour behind us alerted us to the presence of the local flock; we turned to see a sky black with both types of whistling ducks, Straw-necked Ibis (Threskiornis spinicollis) and Black Swans (Cygnus atratus) wheeling overhead (right). The floods may have been devastating to local communities, but it seemed not to have affected the wildlife; the flush of growth created by the deposition of mud and constant wet would have been manna to the waterbirds.

We proceeded from there to Lake Clarendon, which was just a five minute drive up the road. By then the rain had begun to start up again, with a fine drizzle descending as we alighted from our vehicle; it would turn into full-blown rain by the time we left. The dam itself was an astounding sight: I had come here a half-dozen times since late 2008, and it had never been more than 20% full at best; the current water level was just a couple of metres off from topping the dam wall (left). A paddock gate which we would park at was now almost a metre under water. A quick survey over the now vast expanse of water revealed more Black Swans, both whistling ducks and lots of grebes including a Great Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus), while a White-faced Heron (Egretta novaehollandiae) did laps around us as we started along the dam wall.

This spot was always a haven for raptors, but none were on show this sodden day, and the Fairy Martin (Hirundo ariel) mud-nests on the dam tower were now scarcely a metre above water. The marshes immediately under the dam wall (right) were even more widespread than when were last here the previous October, and while there were less birds about, there were still a few interesting species. Most notable was a pair of Cotton Pygmy-geese (Nettapus coromandelianus), as noted in the previous post these were a reasonably rare bird in the greater Brisbane region; we had seen them here the previous October so this looks to be another regular site for them. Other birds seen included Golden-headed Cisticola (Cisticola exilis), Tawny Grassbird (Megalurus timoriensis) and Purple Swamphen (Porphyrio porphyrio), while a pair of Black Swans gamboled about on the standing water, now essentially a lake in its own right (below).


With the rain now sheeting down we made for our next stop, the Apex Lakes in Gatton. None of us had ever been there before and had no idea what to expect; the end product could scarcely have been more disappointing: the lake was essentially little more than a White Ibis colony. The pelting rain quickly sapped what little motivation we had for exploring this place, and in less than five minutes we had retreated to the car. Thoroughly soaked, we curtailed our trip and ended it with a similarly brief sojourn at the UQ Gatton lakes. There at least we saw some interesting birds, chief among them Pink-eared Ducks (Malacorhynchus membranaceus). It was a decent day, ruined by thoroughly abysmal weather.

This was merely the first in a hat-trick of 'dud' trips within the past week. On Wednesday (23/3/11) night Jeremy, Taryn and I attempted to take advantage of a brilliantly warm day to do a herp [reptile] drive across the Mt Glorious track in northwest Brisbane; normally picking up at least one reptile would be routine on this route, but we ended the night with not a single animal bar a Long-nosed Bandicoot (Perameles nasuta). Then on Sunday (27/3/11) the four of us attempted a small circuit in southside Brisbane, doing Venman Bushlands NP and the Sirromet winery near Mt Cotton. Bird life was moderate -we saw or heard both Brown and White-browed Treecreepers (Climacteris picumnus & C. affinis), Little Lorikeets (Glossopsitta pusilla), Noisy Friarbirds (Philemon corniculatus) and Yellow-faced and White-throated Honeyeaters (Lichenostomus chrysops & Melithreptus albogularis)- but any more substantial efforts were put paid to by gusty winds which murdered any potential bird activity. Jeremy has not even taken any pictures due to the unfeasible conditions, which is why my [distinctly poorer!] images furnish this particular post. It has been a bleak week, but we can hope for better.

8/3/11- A new dawn

Much of the world knows about Brisbane-ites' travails with the floods in January; for this author it was a case of fortune favouring excellent timing, as I high-tailed it out of the city the day the floodwaters rose and got on a plane bound for Malaysia, where I was to spend the next six weeks. It wasn't exactly a planned move, at least not in terms of the timing, which was merely a fortunate coincidence. While away I was kept abreast of developments: the state of inundation, the recovery and clean-up efforts and my partners-in-crime's myriad attempts at undertaking wildlife forays, made infinitely more difficult by the assorted infrastructural damages as well as the continuously erratic weather. This was not a good summer for wildlife-watching.

I returned on the second of March to a much-rejuvenated Brisbane; many places were still inaccessible, but the reconstruction was progressing well and there were still a few places to explore that were relatively unscathed. I was chomping at the bit, but as it happened, I could only go out for the first time a week later, as Jeremy decided to do a circuit of some of our regular haunts in the south and west side of Brisbane (see map below).


Our first stop was supposed to have been Oxley Common, a much-heralded and oft-frequented patch of pasture and wetland that sits right opposite the Rocklea markets. We were interested to see how the place had gotten on since the floods [the entire area was inundated], but ended up not even getting out of the car: the pastures and wetlands looked wrecked, as if someone had decided to thresh the fields before the mud had even set. The carpark was full of tradies' 'utes' and even a boat; it appeared that the common was, in addition to undergoing its own rebuilding, also being used as the depot for other reconstruction efforts in the area. It was a grim start to the day, and I worry for the continued sanctity of the common. The Brisbane City Council has long been threatening to open the place up to development, and its destruction might be just the excuse they would need to push such a proposal through.

Having opened our day with disappointment, we scooted straight off to a rather unlikely place for wildlife watching: Forest Lake park, a small man-made water body surrounded by manicured parkland, jogging tracks and million-dollar homes. This wouldn't be a place where one would expect to get much wildlife, but one should never underestimate the average Australian park's ability to attract a wide range of creatures. A sizeable lake like this is Mecca for waterbirds, and the surrounding parklands are a haven for all manner of animals, including a good range of bird species which take well to human development. We arrived at about 7am and were immediately greeted by flocks of Little Friarbirds (Philemon citreogularis) and Superb Fairy-wrens (Malurus cyaneus). Headed towards the lake, we spied some Red-browed Finches (Neochmia temporalis), and rather more surprisingly, a female Leaden Flycatcher (Myiagra rubecula). These two species are common rainforest-edge birds, and their presence further affirmed the usefulness of such green spaces as wildlife refuges.


The lake itself was full of the regulars: Australian Wood Ducks (Chenonetta jubata), Pacific Black Ducks (Anas superciliosa), Dusky Moorhens (Gallinula tenebrosa), Purple Swamphens (Porphyrio porphyrio), Coots (Fulica atra) and Australasian Grebes (Tachybaptus novaehollandiae) (above) were all present in some numbers, while there were also a handful of Australasian Darters (Anhinga novaehollandiae), Little Black Cormorants (Phalacrocorax sulcirostris) and Little Pied Cormorants (P. melanoleucos) (left). There was one bird we were specifically looking for though that was the entire reason we came to this lake: the Cotton Pygmy-goose (Nettapus coromandelianus). This duck, among the smallest of all waterfowl, is widely distributed from across southern Asia into northern Australia, but is declining in Australia and is regarded as near-threatened in this country. An erratic species, its presence anywhere in the greater Brisbane region is notable, and bizarrely Forest Lake, of all places, has become a regular spot for them, with even breeding recently recorded. Of course, there was no guarantee we would actually see them, but in the event they showed: three birds, two males in eclipse plumage and a female landed on the lake, as if on cue (below).


A quick breakfast in Inala was followed by an attempt at gaining access to a conspicuous patch of wetland in neighbouring Doolandella, comprising a good-sized swathe of land surrounding a marsh which appears to be a stagnation of Blunder Creek. The plot sits on private land, but we were hoping to scout around the periphery for anything interesting. As it turned out, the only way around was an overgrown and sodden track which we quickly gave up on; the only notable sighting here was of a Pheasant Coucal (Centropus phasianinus) basking in a high tree.

With the day getting on, we headed for the last stop on our itinerary, Gold Creek Reservoir in Upper Brookfield, a small dam with a circuitous walking track that takes one through a range of habitats: wet gully, wet sclerophyll and casuarina forest as well as patches of thick lantana scrub. The trail has been noticeably less-frequented recently and the lush rain-fed growth means it is in danger of becoming overgrown in parts. Additionally, one end of where it normally starts is inaccessible as it begins at the dam spillway, which is now a fast-flowing torrent. We didn't stay long as activity was already dying down, and drifts of misty rain had begun to sweep down. We did however catch glimpses of Striated Thornbills (Acanthiza lineata), Bell Miner (Manorina melanophrys) and White-naped Honeyeater (Melithreptus lunatus).

It wasn't the best day, but it wasn't the worst either. We'd come away with nothing new but a couple of decent ticks for the year and some idea of the state of a few of our regular haunts. If nothing else, it was good getting out again around Brisbane, and we can hope for plenty more excursions of the sort in the near-future.