In my last posting I featured, in passing, a Grey-headed Honeyeater
that I only half-facetiously described as a small dinosaur.
Perhaps by way of making amends, I thought I’d showcase today
the genus that this species belongs to. Honeyeaters comprise the largest family
of Australian birds (74 species, or over 10% of all Australian species); Lichenostomus is the largest honeyeater
genus, whose 18 species represent nearly a quarter of our honeyeaters,
including some of the most familiar ones. The name, meaning ‘lichen mouth’ comes from
the Purple-headed Honeyeater L. cratitius
of the southern mallee woodlands, which has a curious little mauve wattle at the
gape. I can’t you offer a picture of it, but I do have snaps of many of the
others (of varying quality!) and I’d like to introduce them to you.
[Since writing this posting, taxonomists have done dramatic things to this genus, such that its 18 species have been reduced to just two (Purple-gaped and Yellow-tufted), and the genus split into 7! Without at presuming to criticise the work - it was based on molecular studies, and I have no expertise there - I always marvel at the very different approaches taken by bird and plant taxonomists. The bird people are very thorough in sorting out subtle groupings within larger ones, while the botanists tend to use a very broad brush - or large barrel - indeed, creating huge taxa of related plants without, it sometimes seems, a lot of nuance. Anyway, that's just me. Rather than do away with this posting altogether, I've opted to retain it, noting that many of the species still form a natural grouping, even if not a genus. I have inserted the new genus names in brackets - that doesn't imply I'm rejecting the changes though.]
[Since writing this posting, taxonomists have done dramatic things to this genus, such that its 18 species have been reduced to just two (Purple-gaped and Yellow-tufted), and the genus split into 7! Without at presuming to criticise the work - it was based on molecular studies, and I have no expertise there - I always marvel at the very different approaches taken by bird and plant taxonomists. The bird people are very thorough in sorting out subtle groupings within larger ones, while the botanists tend to use a very broad brush - or large barrel - indeed, creating huge taxa of related plants without, it sometimes seems, a lot of nuance. Anyway, that's just me. Rather than do away with this posting altogether, I've opted to retain it, noting that many of the species still form a natural grouping, even if not a genus. I have inserted the new genus names in brackets - that doesn't imply I'm rejecting the changes though.]
Let’s give the Grey-headed a chance for a reprise
appearance. Although not very familiar to city bird-watchers, it occupies a
huge swathe of the arid inland, in sparse woodlands and hummock spinifex grasslands.
By contrast, one of the commonest honeyeaters in the south-east
is the Yellow-faced, abundant in coastal and mountain forests alike. In late
autumn in Canberra flocks ranging from a few to hundreds pass noisily overhead
on still sunny mornings for a few weeks, funnelling along the river corridors
to destinations along the warmer northern coasts. In spring they slip back much
more discreetly.
Yellow-faced Honeyeater L. (Caligavis) chrysops, south coast New South Wales. |
Another member is perhaps the
most widely familiar honeyeater to any camper in Australia, especially along
the inland stream lines dominated by River Red Gum Eucalyptus camaldulensis. The
White-plumed honeyeater is gregarious, voluble and pugnacious. It’s something
of a relief to get to the far north of Australia, where suddenly the
White-plumeds give way to other, more sedate species along the creeks.
White-plumed Honeyeater
L. (Ptilotula) penicillata, a name which compares
the white plumes to a paintbrush. Milang, South Australia. |
One of those honeyeaters which replaces it in the tropics is the White-gaped honeyeater, whose cheery chewy calls in the pandanus thickets and streamside scrubs are a pleasant change from the White-plumed’s constant carping.
White-gaped Honeyeater L. (Stomiopera) unicolor, Darwin. |
Another close relative which takes over from it across much of northern Australia is the similar Yellow-tinted Honeyeater.
Another tropical lichen-mouth is the lovely Yellow Honeyeater, sometimes known as Bush Canary for obvious reasons. It is found only in north-east tropical Queensland.
Yellow-tinted Honeyeater L. (Ptilotula) flavescens, Edith Falls, Nitmiluk NP, Northern Territory. |
Another tropical lichen-mouth is the lovely Yellow Honeyeater, sometimes known as Bush Canary for obvious reasons. It is found only in north-east tropical Queensland.
Yellow Honeyeater L. (Stomiopera) flavus, Ingham, north Queensland a close relative of the White-gaped. |
At the other end of the colourfulness scale (in this genus
at least) is an often overlooked bird which is nonetheless not uncommon in Canberra
woodlands and along the east and south-east coasts. Fuscous Honeyeaters are something
of a favourite of mine, perhaps in part because they do seem often to be
forgotten.
A rarer visitor here is the lovely Yellow-tufted Honeyeater,
which turns up sporadically where native trees or shrubs are flowering; it is
commoner nearer to the coast. The critically endangered Helmeted Honeyeater,
the Victorian state emblem, is a sub-species of Yellow-tufted.
Yellow-tufted Honeyeater L. melanops, Jerrabomberra wetlands, Canberra. |
The White-eared honeyeater on the other hand has a remarkable
habitat range in south-eastern and south-western Australia, from coastal heaths
to subalpine Snow Gum woodlands to the dry inland mallee scrubs, where I first
met it. One spent much of last winter in our garden, favouring the big Banksia
tree that dominates; I eagerly await its 2013 return.
White-eared Honeyeater L. (Nesoptilotis) leucotis, Jindabyne, New South Wales. A feature of this very handsome bird is its ringing melodic ‘chock’ call, like a guitar chord. |
Another lichen-mouth shares its inland woodland and mallee
habitats, but doesn’t follow it to the east coast (or Canberra); it does
however reach the arid coasts of western South Australia and southern Western
Australia. Yellow-plumed Honeyeaters can be abundant where eucalypts are
flowering.
And, almost finally, one of the most head-scratching names ever applied
to an Australian bird – the Singing Honeyeater. About the most I’ve ever heard
it manage – and I’ve heard a lot of them – is a slightly peevish ‘prrrit’. Yet
the great, and generally sober, John Gould, who named it, waxed lyrical about
its singing prowess. Goodness knows what he was hearing (or imbibing). Don’t
get me wrong – I love Singers, which I meet anywhere across the vast dry
inland, as well as on the arid southern and western coasts, but it’s not for their
melodies.
Similar to the Singer and closely related (yes really, they are in the same new genus) is a pair of east coast tropical and sub-tropical species. The Varied Honeyeater Lichenostomus (Gavicalis) versicolor is found in tropical Queensland (and north into New Guinea) south to about Townsville, where it is replaced by Mangrove Honeyeater L. (Gavicalis) fasciogularis. It occurs south into northern New South Wales.
We’ll end where we
started, with the obliging Grey-headed Honeyeater feeding in the Watarrka
grevillea. How could I refuse a bird that looks this menacing?
Varied Honeyeaters, Cairns Esplanade. |
BACK ON TUESDAY
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