Not an Owl; some of the other night birds

It's a common, and perfectly understandable, assumption that all nocturnal hunting birds must be owls. Most of us don't usually get a good look at these birds unless we happen upon them when they're trying to sleep in the daytime, while hoping to escape the notice of the noisy day birds which always want to move them on. Moreover, even if we do get a decent look, they still look rather owl-like - big eyes, soft plumage, delicately patterned plumage, often mottled or streaked for camouflage. These 'not owls' are the potoos of South and Central America, the Oilbird of northern South America, the nightjars and nighthawks, found across most of the world, the frogmouths of Australia and south-east Asia and the owlet-nightjars of New Guinea, plus a few nearby islands (including Australia). Each of these groups forms a Family, and until recently all were placed in the same Order, but in 2021 it was broadly agreed that each of these Families was better understood as a full Order in their own right (see here and find Version 11.2).

Hopefully you've read this far! If so, please persevere - that's pretty much the end of the taxonomy lesson, and the rest is just about these very interesting groups of birds.

Tawny Frogmouth Podargus strigoides near Canberra; they typically spend
the day in the open, relying on their impressive camouflage for protection.

While we're on frogmouths we might as well continue with them. There are 16 species, and through most of their extensive range, which stretches from Australia to India, they are rainforest dwellers, many of them very hard to find. However the Tawny Frogmouth is the exception, being a bird of drier forests and woodlands throughout Australia, including the arid inland, wherever there are trees and open ground for hunting. They are found in suburbia, including in all Australian capital cities, and I'm sure that they are the most familiar night birds to most Australians.

Tawny Frogmouth and large chick, about to fledge (indeed it flew just a day after this),
in a park near our Canberra home.

Despite the apparent similarities with owls, there are significant differences. Whereas owls have forward-looking eyes (like us), frogmouths' eyes are more on the side of their head, like most other birds. They have broad shallow beaks for scooping up food (insects, plus some frogs and mice, taken mostly from the ground), whereas an owl's beak is sharp and narrow for tearing up prey. Owls hunt primarily with their feet, which are powerful and taloned like a hawk's; a frogmouth's feet are comparatively weak and are not used to seize food. Much the same comments could be made about the other 'not owls' we'll be meeting today.

 

While these photos don't show it to best advantage (mostly because these birds didn't choose a well-matching branch to roost or nest on), the frogmouth's camouflage is remarkable. The streaks in the plumage can resemble cracks in bark to a remarkable degree. The head is held upright to reinforce the impression of a broken branch. The eyes are closed, though, if the bird is approached too closely, they will open to slits, and the head will turn ever so slowly to keep the intruder in sight.    

 

As the previous photo suggests, nests are very flimsy and placed on a horizontal branch or a flat fork.

Adult on nest, Narrabunda Hill, Canberra.

Sometimes old nests of other species are repurposed by frogmouths.
 

Tawny Frogmouth on old White-winged Chough nest, Mulligans Flat NR, Canberra.
It may just have been perching, but it was in November when I'd expect them to be breeding.

The three Australian/New Guinea species are all in the genus Podargus; Marbled and Papuan Frogmouths are found in both islands, while Tawnies are only in Australia. I find this surprising though, given that they occur almost to the tip of Cape York, just across the narrow Torres Strait from New Guinea. Going further north-west, the 13 Asian species are only found on the other side of Wallace's Line; all are smaller and restricted to rainforest.

Papuan Frogmouth P. papuensis, Centennial Lakes, Cairns, above and below.
This tropical species is found north from about Townsville to the tip of York Peninsula,
and throughout New Guinea. It is usually found along rainforest edges and in
drier rainforest, which is generally known as monsoon, or vine forest. This pair was
roosting in mangroves, where they were surprisingly hard to see.

The third Australian species, the Marbled Frogmouth P. ocellatus, is notoriously hard to find in its rainforest habitat. It has two very separate small Australian populations, on Cape York Peninsula, and in the border ranges of near-coastal NSW and Queensland, as well as throughout New Guinea.

It seems logical to me to go from frogmouths to potoos, though the latter are in a different Order, as we have seen, and only found in the American Neotropics. Whenever I see them though I am struck by how much they resemble frogmouths, though that's entirely due to adaptations to similar lifestyles. Like frogmouths they hunt from a perch, but unlike them they take prey almost exclusively from the air, and never from the ground. Their camouflage is just as good but rather than perch on horizontal branches they use vertical stumps or broken branches, positioned upright so as to seem like an extension of the stump.

Great Potoo Nyctibius grandis, Pantanal, south-western Brazil. This is the largest
potoo, up to 60cm long, and is found from south-eastern Brazil to southern Mexico.

The seven species are found between them in every Central and South American country, though they are most prevalent in the Amazon Basin.

The Long-tailed Potoo Nyctibius aethereus, here at Tambopata Reserve in the southern Peruvian
Amazon, is found throughout the Amazon basin, and in the southern Brazilian Atlantic forests.
I love how the white wing patch resembles lichen on a tree trunk!

Common Potoo Nyctibius griseus, Muyuna Lodge, northeastern Peru. It is found
almost throughout South America except for the far south and the higher Andes,
and in much of Central America.

They don't build a nest, simply laying a single egg in a depression on a branch, or on top of a stump. The pale chicks have their own camouflage, resembling a lichen-covered branch.

Common Potoo chick, Yasuní NP, Ecuadorian Amazon.

Great Potoo chick, Muyuna Lodge, Peru.

Unsurprisingly, I am a big fan of potoos, not to mention the amazing guides who can reliably spot them!

The smallest of these 'not owl' Orders is represented by just one species, the somewhat enigmatic Oilbird Steatornis caripensis, found along the slopes of the Andes and in the lowland forests of northern South America. While distantly related to the other Orders, it differs from those birds in almost every way except for being nocturnal.

Oilbird above a rainforest waterway in Yasuní NP, Ecuadorian Amazonia.
My friend and guide extraordinaire Juan Cardenas were in a canoe doing
reconnaissance for a tour when we saw what we thought was a nightjar above
our heads. When we arrived back at our lodge, we both realised what we'd
really seen, for the first time for both of us.

 

For a start, of all these 'non owls' only the Oilbird is fully vegetarian, living on fruits of palms and laurels. Along with the New Zealand Kakapo, a flightless parrot, it is the world's only nocturnal fruit-eating bird. It finds the fruit by night by smell, and can travel up to 120km from their roost to feed. Moreover it not only has the remarkable night-sight that we'd expect, but it also uses echo-location, like a microbat. This is because, like the bats, it breeds and largely roosts in caves, and needs the 'super power' to navigate in the total darkness. This is not unique among birds, but it is very rare - the only others that I am aware of using it are some swiftlets, which also nest in caves. If caves are not available, Oilbirds will also roost in deep rock crevices and ravines, and it has recently been discovered that they regularly roost in trees in the rainforest too.

Oilbird roost in a deep slot canyon, at the Quiscarrumi Bridge near Moyobamba
in northern Peru. The birds look like brown rice grains on the ledge
in shadow in the left foreground.

A closeup, somewhat hazy, view of the roosting Quiscarrumi Bridge Oilbirds.

Of the five 'non owl' orders in the torch light today, the delightful little owlet-nightjars form something of an outlier - in fact their closest relatives (though still distant) are the swifts and hummingbirds! They are essentially a New Guinea group, where are seven species. One of these extends to and throughout Australia, and there is an endemic species in each of the Indonesian Moluccas and New Caledonia. (There was also a flightless New Zealand species which became extinct in about 1400 when rats arrived in New Zealand with humans.)

 

The elegant little Australian Owlet-nightjar Aegotheles cristatus (also found in the savannas of southern New Guinea) is less than 25cm long and is found in open country throughout the continent. Its musical churring call is a familiar night sound, including in suburbia near bushland. It is the only open country member of the group, the rest being rainforest birds. It hunts insects like a flycatcher does, taking off from a perch to seize prey in the air or from a branch or the ground.

Australian Owlet-nightjar catching the sun in a eucalypt hollow in the
Australian National Botanic Gardens in Canberra. This is typically how we
see them, though I've also seen them roosting on a branch. They rely heavily
on such tree hollows for both roosting and breeding.

Finally there is the biggest family of 'non owls', the nightjars (which includes the American nighthawks). There are 96 species found on every vegetated continent, quite a few being inter-continental migrants. They live in forest and deserts and big cities. All are superb aerialists, hunting insects by sight in apparent complete darkness, though many can also be seen hunting in the dusk, when their elegantly long wings and aerial virtuosity are there to be admired. I have enjoyed many an evening in camp watching a nightjar hunting, swooping past in the gathering twilight, working up and down the open area of the campground, or flashing repeatedly over a pool or river, intercepting the insects rising from it. And listening! Nightjars have the most amazing calls, wild rising, accelerating bursts of gobbling and bubbling. The Large-tailed Nightjar of northern Australia sounds like someone repeatedly hitting a hollow log with an axe.

Blackish Nightjars Nyctipolus nigrescens, eastern foothills of the Andes in
northern Ecuador. Roosting on or near the ground is typical of nightjars,
and this one specialises in rocks or fallen tree trunks.

And now for the very embarrassing and embarrassed confession. I have quite a few photos of nightjars, some of them reasonably acceptable (though you may judge that below), but, but... I have never managed to take one of any of the three Australian species, though I've seen them all. The one I've seen most often is the Spotted Nightjar which occurs across most of the inland of the mainland Australia, in dry open habitats. By day you typically you first see them when they flush from the ground. They spend the day roosting, often in the shade, among ground litter or rocks, where they effectively disappear, courtesy of their superbly camouflaged plumage. I have watched carefully to see where they've landed (they often don't go far) and cautiously approached to get a photo - and have failed to find them every single time! I know. As I said, embarrassing. Let's move along to some that I have managed to see (with help on each occasion I should add), in Africa and the Neotropics of America.

Common Pauraque Nyctidromus albicollis (the origin of the common name seems to be
something of a mystery) is the commonest American nightjar pretty much throughout its range,
which includes most of Central and South America. The far-flung sites of
these two photos gives some indication of this. The one above was roosting near
our room at Muyuna Lodge on the edge of Amazonia in northern Peru...

... while this one was by the track in the northern Panatanal, south-western Brazil.
They are often encountered on tracks or roads at night.

Also in the northern Pantanal is this one, which I am very cautiously suggesting
is a Rufous Nightjar Antrostomus rufus, but without much confidence.
At the time it was called as a Little Nightjar Setopagis parvula, but
that doesn't convince me either. Any suggestions welcomed.
(Frankly it doesn't much resemble anything in the Pantanal field guide!)

I mentioned earlier that nightjars often hunt insects over water, so it's no surprise to see them along rivers, though the sheer numbers of these Sand-coloured Nighthawks Chordeiles rupestris along the Manu River in the southern Peruvian Amazon basin astonished me. (Nighthawk is a name used in the US for nightjars that are members of the genus Chordeile).

This was just a small part of a loose roosting flock.

A closeup of a couple of members of the same flock, roosting on flood debris.
It is found along river corridors in the western Amazon basin.

More surprising was seeing this Lesser Nighthawk Chordeiles acutipennis on the beach in Costa Rica, though apparently this is one of its normal habitats while overwintering there. It breeds in deserts in the south-western US and Mexico, and then flies south to Central and South America for the rest of the year, where it prefers watery habitats.

Lesser Nighthawk roosting on driftwood at the mouth of the Tarcoles River,
eastern Costa Rica.

Some nightjar males have spectacularly long and elaborate tail feathers or flight feathers for display purposes; here are some, though the first couple are unfortunately for us not adult males.

Fledgling Ladder-tailed Nightjar Hydropsalis climacocerca, Yasuní NP, Ecuador.
It is found throughout the Amazon Basin. When older, especially if it's a male,
it will have a curious tail structure, with the longest feathers being the central and
outermost ones. I confess that this doesn't say 'ladder' to me, but that comes from the
translation of the Latin name (not that that helps us of course). More importantly,
males fan the tails while flying slowly low over water to attract a female's attention.
It evidently worked for this one's parents!

Scissor-tailed Nightjar Hydropsalis torquata, Peruibe, on the coast north of
Sao Paulo, Brazil. Adult males have a pair of long slender outer tail feathers
which often break, so this could be such an unfortunate male, or a female.
Oddly the tail doesn't seem to feature in courtship displays, which
take place on the ground in an open space, while he claps his wings overhead!
This one was roosting in coastal heath just above the ground.

  

Pennant-winged Nightjar Caprimulgus vexillarius, Murchison Falls NP, Uganda.
This bird seemed to be injured, perhaps by another car. The extraordinary
pennants are hugely extended second primary feathers (ie growing from
about the centre of the wing) which grow longer each year, being shed
with the annual moult after breeding. They are used in courtship displays both
in flight and while perched on a rock or termite mound, with his back to the female.

Standard-winged Nightjar Caprimulgus longipennis, Ngaoundaba Ranch,
central Cameroon. His camouflage is exquisite. He is facing right, with his
head just under the two green leaves at the centre right of the photo. His
ornamentation also features a greatly extended flight feather on each
wing, though in this case much of the length comprises a bare shaft,
with the two black 'standards' at the tip, and clearly visible here.
The standards trail behind him in normal flight but are held straight up
when displaying, which occurs in leks, with many males gathered to compete.
It must be a spectacular event!

Lyre-tailed Nightjar Uropsalis lyra, Mindo Valley, north-western Ecuador.
This unlikely beauty is found along most of the Andes from Ecuador to northern
Argentina. Its behaviour doesn't seem to be well known, though males apparently
also form leks, competing with females through their flight display. To this end the
males' tails are up to 60cm long.

And I think that's probably enough, but hopefully you've been able to find something of interest here. One day I'll do a post on birds that are owls, but the not-owls are, I think, also fascinating and diverse. Thanks for bearing with me, and them.

Tawny Frogmouths by the Murrumbidgee River south of Canberra.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 19 OCTOBER
for more on Costa Rica - some animals

 

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An Orchid Alphabet

I am writing this post in the depths of Canberra winter, thinking longingly of the coming spring. And when I think of spring I also inevitably think of orchids. In anticipation of that I've put together an alphabet of orchids from four continents, just as a celebration of these wonderful plants, with which I am besotted. (If you enjoy it, you might also enjoy some previous alphabets that I've put together; on yellow flowers, red flowers, white flowers, acacias, and eucalypts.)

My general guidelines are to try to offer an Australian and an overseas orchid for each letter, using a genus name if possible, but using a species name if I can't manage a relevant genus. I'm not going to get hung-up on taxonomy here (it is a celebration after all), and inevitably some of the names I'm using are not now universally accepted, but all are published and at least have been and usually still are widely used. In a couple of cases I simply can't narrow it down to just one Australian or overseas offering per letter, but if you're interested in orchids I can't imagine that will be too hard to take. Finally I've failed on a few predictable letters - K, Q and W-Z.

So thanks for joining me, and let's go tiptoeing through an orchidaceous alphabet!

A

Large Mosquito Orchid Acianthus fornicatus, Callala, New South Wales south coast.
The mosquito orchids (named for their pointy flowers, which is also the meaning of Acianthus) are a group
of mostly autumn-winter flowering colonial orchids of damp places

Bamboo Orchid Arundina graminifolia, Crocker Range, Sabah, Malaysian Borneo.
A big and dramatic orchid found from India to New Guinea

 B

 

Tiny Strand Orchid Bulbophyllum (this species sometimes separated as Adelopetalum) exiguum, near Nowra,
south coast New South Wales. This is the largest orchid genus, with over 2000 species across the tropics.
This species has tiny delicate flowers less than 10mm across growing on rocks and tree trunks in rainforest.

 C

Two of my favourite Australian orchid genera start with C, and I can't omit either.

Purple Beard Orchid Calochilus platychilus, Gungahlin Hill Nature Reserve, Canberra.
An orchid genus dear to my heart (though my own beard has faded with the years). One of the many
ground orchids which attract pollinators by deceptively mimicking (in looks and scent)
a female insect.

Flying Duck Orchid Caleana major, Bundanoon, southern New South Wales.
What else could you call it?! The flower is 'upside down' and the labellum at the top snaps down
when an insect alights, trapping it inside for a while until it has been forced into contact with the
reproductive organs. The genus name is for George Caley, an early 19th century collector
around Sydney, socially difficult but very good in the field, employed by Sir Joseph Banks.

 And I have the same problem with the overseas Cs - two beauties and I can't ignore either of them.

Porcelain Orchid Chloraea magellanica, Torres del Paine NP, Chilean Patagonia.
Aside from its inherent beauty, this robust orchid fascinates me for its ability to survive
far to the freezing windy south of South America.

Coelogyne sp. near Serian, Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo.
One of some 200 species of this magnificent genus, across southern Asia; Borneo is a hotspot.

 D

Diuris, the donkey orchids or doubletails (both reflecting the flower's form, supposedly like a donkey's face - well I can see it! - though 'doubletail' also translates Diuris) are common and familiar orchids across southern Australia. In a good season open forest floors are carpeted with yellow flowers. They are the first orchids I remember being made aware of, on family excursions to the Adelaide hills.

Common Donkey Orchid Diuris corymbosa, Wireless Hill, Perth.
Probably, as its name claims, the commonest donkey orchid in Western Australia.

However not quite all these donkeys are yellow, and I really had to introduce you to one of the truly lovely purple ones (about 12 of the 65 donkey species).

Purple Donkey Orchid Diuris punctata, Tallong, New South Wales Southern Highlands.

Disa spp., Bamenda Highlands, western Cameroon.
This is a large genus - more than 160 species - essentially restricted to Africa.
As usual, any further identification help gladly received.

 E

The Purple Enamel Orchid Elythranthera brunonis, Two People's Bay NP, is a startlingly glossy orchid from the south-west
of Western Australia, one of only two members of the genus. The species name means 'brown', which
is pretty perplexing until you know that it's in honour of the great Scottish botanist Robert Brown.
(Attempts to subsume this genus into the huge genus Caladenia haven't received much traction in Australia.)

Epidendrum syringothyrsus, Inca Track near Machu Picchu, Peru.
This beauty is restricted to rock outcrops in cloud forest in the high Andes of Peru and Bolivia.
There are more than 1500 Epidendrums through the tropics and subtropics of the Americas.

 F

And  here's another Epidendrum whose species name starts with F, because I have no photos of any orchid genera starting with F! (In fact there seem to be only two tiny Australian 'F' genera, from the Queensland tropics.)

Fringed Epidendrum Epidendrum funkii, also on the Inca Track.
(Also known as E. blepharistes, but that wouldn't do for my purposes here!)

 G

Waxlip Orchid Glossodia major (and bonus jumping spider, Salticidae), Black Mountain NR, Canberra.
This is yet another that some would subsume into Caladenia, but Glossodia (which contains just two species)
is still widely used. This one, common and in a good season abundant in colonies, is sometimes known
as the Parson in the Pulpit for the erect column over the white base to the labellum.

Orchidea amarilla ('yellow orchid') or Varita do oro ('golden wand') Gavilea lutea,
Torres del Paine NP, Chilean Patagonia. A common robust orchid of cold grasslands
as far south as Tierra del Fuego.

 H

Midget Greenhood Hymenochilus (Pterostylis) muticus, Nangar NP near Canowindra, New South Wales.
This group of very small-flowered greenhoods (the flowers of this species are less than 10mm long) was
split off as a separate genus for some time, though most recent sources would reinstate the huge and varied
genus Pterostylis.

In acknowledgement of that, I'll also offer another Australian 'h-orchid', this one based on the species name.

Purple-heart Fingers Caladenia (sometimes Petalochilus) hillmanii, Myora, south coast New South Wales.
The name commemorates George Hillman of Port Stephens, who brought it to the attention of orchid
guru (and somewhat maverick) David Jones in the 1990s.

Habenaria sp., Wayquecha Research Station, high southern Peruvian Andes.
(At least that is what I was told at the time, though now I have some doubts.)
Habenaria is a genus of over 600 species found throughout the tropics.

 I

This letter caused me some angst too; I have a photo of the lovely Ida locusta from Peru but the poor thing is so nibbled and shrivelled that it would be embarrassed to be shown. Instead I offer another Australian species chosen for its species name.

Spotted Sun Orchid Thelymitra ixioides, Bundanoon, New South Wales southern highlands.
A very widespread and common orchid in south-eastern New South Wales.

J

A slightly contentious one, in that the establishment has largely returned all the genera which were split from Caladenia in an attempt to provide some nuance, back to the huge amorphous grab-bag of Caladenia. However some authorities, including the respected Atlas of Living Australia, still recognise this genus for instance, named for the eminent Australian orchidologist David Jones; good enough for me today!

Zebra Orchid Jonesiopsis (or Caladenia) cairnsiana, Stirling Ranges NP, southern Western Australia.
I really love this jaunty little orchid, which can be quite common in sandy heaths throughout the south-west.

L

Rattle Beaks Lyperanthus serratus, Wireless Hill, Perth. Apparently the flower rattles if you shake it,
but I've never felt the need to do so! A very distinctive orchid, which has a relative (but only one)
in the south-east of Australia too.

M

Alpine Onion Orchid Microtis sp. aff. unifolia, Brindabella Ranges, Namadgi NP, above Canberra.
As far as I can tell, this one is still undescribed. I've mentioned a couple of small-flowered orchids above,
but onion orchid flowers are tiny, just 2-3mm long, sitting on an expanded ovary.

N

Mayfly Orchid Nemacianthus caudatus Spring Mount CP, south of Adelaide.
A very distinctive colony-forming orchid, widespread and common, formerly included in Acianthus;for a change this split seems to have been widely accepted.
(Scan of an old slide - sorry.)

 

Neodryas rhodoneura, Acjanaco Pass, high Andes, Manu NP, southern Peru.
There appears to be some confusion surrounding this genus, which is also sometimes dumped in Onicidium,
seemingly (as far as I can make out) because no-one quite knows what to do with it.
Not our problem here - we just get to enjoy a lovely orchid starting with N!

 O

Horned Orchid Orthoceras strictum, Black Mountain NR Canberra.
This is a most distinctive orchid, quite widespread and said to be sometimes common, but that hasn't been
my experience. In the ACT it grows in just one small site.
(David Jones, in his monumental Complete Guide to the Orchids of Australia, suggests that there are
two or three other undescribed species in Australia and that the New Zealand and New Caledonian populations
also represent separate species. You'll read otherwise elsewhere, but my strong inclination is to believe
Jones until more evidence is available.)

Odontoglossum auroincarum, Wayquecha Research Station, high southern Peruvian Andes.
(This has also been called O. lasserum, but auroincarum seems to be correct here - it was only described,
from this area, in 2014.) There are about 100 Odontoglossum species, nearly all from the northern Andes.

 P

P begins with a double-P in fact, and it's a rare species as well.

Tarango Leek Orchid Prasophyllum petilum, northern Canberra.
A grassland species now regarded as Endangered, as are many native grassland-relying
species in south-eastern Australia.

Pleurothallus sp., above Machu Picchu, southern Peru.
I love the way these flowers seemingly grow from the leaf stalk.

R

R was surprisingly challenging. There aren't many Australian orchid R-genera; the best known is probably Rhizanthella, the truly remarkable underground orchids - three species which live entirely beneath the ground, the flowers covered by soil or litter. Needless to say I don't have photos of them. Let's settle for an R-species instead.

Large Gnat Orchid Cyrtostylis robusta, Alligator Gorge, southern Flinders Ranges, South Australia.
A fairly common species of sandy alkaline soils of the extensive limestone belt of southern Australia;
it is usually found in big colonies.

 S

S provided the opposite problem - too many delicious choices. In the end I could only get it down to two Australian S-orchids, plus one from overseas.

 

Myrtle Bells Sarcochilus hillii, Nowra, south coast New South Wales. This is a pretty little drooping
epiphyte, with flowers less than 10mm across, usually along streamlines in drier rainforest.
I love the glistening crystalline effect of the flowers.

Pink Spiral Orchid Spiranthes australis, Canberra. Another small-flowered orchid, this one of moist grassy areas,
with flowers tightly spiralling around the stem, a most unusual effect.

 

Sobralia dichotoma, Inca Track above Machu Picchu, southern Peruvian Andes.
A stunning big flower on a plant that can be three metres high! Hard to ignore.

  T

Swollen Sun Orchid Thelymitra megacalyptera, Weddin Mountains NP, south-western slopes New South Wales.
The 100+ species of sun orchids tend to open only on warm sunny days. This one is most prominent
in the drier forests of the western slopes.

Telipogon salinasiae Acjanaco Pass, high Andes of southern Peru.
Another big Neotropical orchid genus, many with unusually patterned flowers.
This one was described in 2003.

 U

Green-banded Greenhood Urochilus (Pterostylis) vittatus, Shannon NP, south-western Western Australia.
As mentioned previously, many do not accept the breakup of Pterostylis into more manageable chunks,
but Urochilus is still used, including by the Atlas of Living Australia.

 V

And finally - because after this we hit the tricky end of the alphabet, which I found intractable today - we end with a V, another based on a species name.

 

Common Hyacinth Orchid Dipodium variegatum, Nowra, southern New South Wales.
The hyacinth orchids are big leafless orchids which are semi-parasites, relying on a complex relationship
of its roots with both a host plant and a fungus.
This one, with a 60cm high stem, is by no means the tallest; it is found from Queensland to Victoria.

I do love orchids, and I'm really hoping that this spring is more productive than the last couple of dry years have been. Meantime, I hope this has encouraged you too to start looking forward to this year's orchid season.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 22 AUGUST
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