Farewell to 2017!

Continuing my tradition of recent years, to mark the changeover of years I've selected just one photo from each month of 2017. As ever I don't make any pretences to photographic excellence, but have chosen the pictures because of their associations, and in most cases because they are ones I've not previously used this year in a blog posting.

It's been another busy year with some exciting natural highlights; as I get older I feel increasingly the need to make the most of every month of every year. I hope you can enjoy my selection of 2017 photos, and maybe it can encourage you to think about your own highlights.

JANUARY

A tailed weevil Rhinotia sp. (probably suturalis or brunnea, but I don't know enough to be sure), family Belidae.
I was delighted when I came across this lovely weevil in a bushland area known as Bluett's Block, not far from
where I live in Canberra, as I'd not seen anything like it before, and this is an area I've recently started exploring.
I've learnt that the group tends to specialise in acacias, but beyond that we don't seem to know much about them.

 FEBRUARY

White-lipped Snake Drysdalia coronoides, Yerrabi Track, Namadgi National Park.
This is a lovely little snake, the most cold-adapted in Australia, and one I don't see all that often, though
it's not uncommon in the high country of the Australian Capital Territory (and from New England in northern
New South Wales south to Tasmania). This was a highlight of a most enjoyable summer walk in the
Snow Gums of the southern part of our territory.

MARCH

Grey Goshawk Accipiter novaehollandiae, Tomakin, south coast New South Wales.
A wet weekend at the coast was greatly enhanced by this magnificent bird - which I'd never
successfully laid lens on before - perched on the powerlines in the pouring rain
by the busy highway.

 APRIL

Golden Orb Weaver Nephila edulis, Duffy, Canberra.
This handsome lady was too busy wrapping up dinner - an unfortunate fly - to notice us watching her
at close range from our balcony; she probably wasn't particularly aware either of the little male spider
in the web by her feet, hoping for some scraps. I loved the way the web glowed golden in the sunlight.

   MAY

The view south from Cooleman Ridge Nature Reserve.
Another walk, this one in autumn, and much closer to home. In fact Cooleman Ridge is the closest reserve to our house.
The purple hue in the Red Boxes Eucalyptus polyanthemos was the sun's reflection from
 hundreds of thousands of buds ready to survive winter and burst into spring flowers.
The looming hill behind is Mount Tennent, in the far north of Namadgi National Park.
A reminder of how lucky we are to live in the 'bush capital', where everyone lives close to such a reserve.

JUNE

Rose Robin Petroica rosea, Nowra, southern New South Wales.
At my partner's parents' home on the outskirts of town; this glowing little bird, not a common garden bird,
spent a morning flitting around the lawn and perched on the clothesline. A delight.

JULY

Indri Indri indri, the largest of all living lemurs, Antasibe-Mantadia NP, eastern Madagascar.
Tragically, this magnificent animal, which communicates by singing duets, is listed as Critically Endangered;
hopefully this baby will survive with its parents and siblings and in time start its own family.
Spending time with these superb animals early in the trip was a high point of a
thrilling but challenging trip to Madagascar.

 AUGUST

Giant Day Gecko Phelusma grandis Ankarana National Park, northern Madagascar.
Madagascar is home to 110 known gecko species, a number rising by the year, 90% of them endemic.
This is more than double the species of Australia, which is some 13 times the size.
One group, representing a third of the island's species, has reverted to diurnal living, with smaller eyes and
often remarkable colours. This one was in the park, but we also had a couple of these jewels in
our cabin at the edge of the park.

 SEPTEMBER

Box-leaf Wattle Acacia buxifolia Black Mountain Nature Reserve, Canberra.
This was a disappointing spring for wildflowers in Canberra, with very little rain and almost no orchids, but
it started promisingly, and we can always rely on the wattles! I remember on this early spring day
being filled with the optimistic enthusiasm that spring always brings me.

 OCTOBER

Inca Tern Larosterna inca, Pucusana, south of Lima, Peru. Restricted to the cold Humboldt Current of
Peru and Chile, it must surely be the most glorious tern in the world. We went south as soon as we got to Peru,
and on the first afternoon did a memorable boat trip round the rocky headlands and islets of this little
fishing village, steeped in seabirds, with the Inca Terns the stars for me.

NOVEMBER

Jaguar Panthera onca, Three Brothers River, Pantanal, western Brazil.
Surely my wildlife highlight of the year, after a decade of looking for Jaguars in Peru and Ecuador,
when we were able to follow, in a small boat, three adult cubs and their mother as they walked along
the river bank  through the forest, probably hunting caimans.
I'll never forget the moment this big youngster stopped and stared closely at us for a few seconds
before returning to more important issues.

 DECEMBER  

Freckled Duck Stictonetta naevosa, Jerrabomberra Wetlands, Canberra.
Probably Australia's rarest duck, with no close relatives, it nonetheless visits Canberra relatively regularly
in small numbers, especially when it's been dry in its heartlands to the west of here.
I'm always very pleased to see them.

So, that was my 2017 - or rather that's one version of it. As I said at the start, I hope this can prompt you to your own reverie of your natural history year.

Thank you for doing me the honour of reading this, whether you're a regular or you've just come across this. I hope you find your way back to this blog in 2018; meantime, have a happy and exciting start to 2018 - naturally!

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 11 JANUARY.

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The Mighty Baobabs

This is another in my periodic series on favourite trees; the most recent one was here, and you can backtrack from there if you're so inclined. I've been wanting to write something on the wonderful baobabs for some time, but was putting it off until I'd met a few more in Madagascar. In the event happenstance and Madagacar Air conspired to rob us of some of the planned trip a few months ago, so I didn't see as many as I'd hoped, but I think there's still enough here to make a post worth while.

Fony Baobab Adansonia rubrostipa, Ifaty Spiny Forest, south-western Madagascar.

Baobabs are a very distinctive genus of nine species found in Madagascar (six), Africa (two) and north-western Australia (one). Until recently they were placed in the family Bombacaceae, but as seems to the way with botanical taxonomy these days, they have now been swept into the huge and unwieldy family Malvaceae (traditionally the home of hibiscuses and mallows). 

The genus name was bestowed by Linnaeus in 1762, to honour French botanist and polymath Michel Adanson, a year after Adanson published the first description of the tree from his explorations in Senegal, where he spent five years collecting everything imaginable, not only plants and animals but trade items, languages and detailed meteorological observations. His family had migrated from Scotland (no idea - weather perhaps?!) and changed the 'm' in their name to an 'n'. He went on to write a two volume Familles des Plantes in which he sought to form all generic names independently of all known languages, including Greek and Latin; it seems to have been too daunting a task however. He also later wanted a coffin garland to represent all his 58 families. Perhaps more significantly his taxonomy was based on what he interpreted as natural relationships, rather than the rather arbitrary arrangements of Linnaeus' early attempts; in this he was ahead of his time, though echoing the suggestions of Robert Ray, a century earlier. He wrote a Natural History of Senegal, but his publisher went broke and Adanson felt obliged to refund those who'd subscribed; this plunged him into a poverty from which he never emerged and he survived only via a small stipend from the French Academy of Sciences. It didn't stop him spending his life on a truly monumental writing project, which basically seems to have comprised everything known about the entire natural world. He offered to the Academy 27 volumes of principles, followed by 150 volumes listing 40,000 species, a dictionary covering 200,000 words (I find this hard to believe, but the 1911 Encyclopaedia Britannica vouches for it!), 40,000 illustrations, and 30,000 specimens of plants, fungi and animals. The Academy declined to publish. It is reported that when the prestigious French Institute invited him to join, he had to decline because he couldn't afford to buy appropriate clothes.

OK, probably time to return to the trees...

Australian Baobab A. gregorii, Gregory NP, Northern Territory.
This species is closest to a group of four of the Madagascan baobabs,
including the three species illustrated in this posting.

It is unclear whether the genus arose in Madagascar, now their stronghold, or on the African mainland. It is a relatively young genus, apparently no more than 10 million years old, so its journey between Madagascar and Africa, and to Australia, must have been achieved by seeds floating across the ocean. More recently humans have transported the widespread African Baobab A. digitata to Madagascar and much of the tropics. It is a greatly valued species, used for food - the fruit, dried or fresh, is prized, and both seeds and young leaves are eaten, timber (including for musical instruments and weapons), fibre and firewood.

A. digitata, Darwin Botanic Gardens.
Recently (2012) a second African species was discovered. Named A. kilima, it is found widely in southern
and eastern Africa, where it sometimes co-exists with A. digitata. The species are very similar, but A. digitatais unique in having twice the chromosome complement of all the other species.

Very old African Baobabs - individual trees have been aged at over 1,000 years - in the Kalahari Desert,
Botswana, above and below. Both these pictures are from old scanned slides.

 

Indigenous Australians make cords from the root bark fibre of A. gregorii, and eat the sap.

Australian Baobab, Gregory NP.

In Australia the name baobab - which was collected by Adanson in Senegal - is often corrupted to 'boab'. 'Bottle tree' is also sometimes used, but this is a confusion with Queensland members of the unrelated genus Brachychiton.

Za Baobab A. za, Ifaty Spiny Forest.
I can't find a reference to the name, but I assume it is a Malagasy word for the tree.

In all the species above, the form of the tree is distinctive. They are 'pachycauls', with thick trunks relative to their height, and few branches, mostly sprouting from the top. They are said to be able to store up to 100,000 litres of water in their trunk (in tissue, not a big internal tank!) to last them between wet seasons. All are deciduous, to assist in water conservation.

Perhaps we could end by just enjoying a few more portraits of these magnificent trees.

Madagascar Baobab A. madagascarensis, Ankarana NP, northern Madagascar.
This is a limestone national park, and this species is closely associated with that rock.

Fony Baobab, Ifaty Spiny Forest.

Za Baobab, Ifaty Spiny Forest.

Sakalava Weaver nests, Ifaty village, south-western Madagascar.

Australian Baobabs, Gregory NP.
In a diary entry from my first trip to the east Kimberley, where I first saw these wonderful trees,
I wrote of the "magnificently grotesque Baobabs.... great corpulent patriarchs, with twisted swollen arthritic limbs".

Hopelessly anthropomorphic, I readily acknowledge. But baobabs tend to have that effect on me, I'm afraid. I love them.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY .

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Chameleons; the fascinating ground lions

Chameleons are truly amazing lizards, but until a recent trip to Madagascar I'd had almost no contact with them. Madagascar though is the world centre of chameleondom, and you can't avoid them (in the highly unlikely case that you might want to!). The 85 species – every single one of which is endemic to the island – represent over 40% of the world chameleon total (in an area less than 0.4% of the world’s land area), and more are being described every year. 

Female Jewelled Chameleon Furcifer lateralis, Peyrieras.
(All photos in this posting were taken in Madagascar. The animals at Peyrieras were captive,
in a large aviary - or whatever is the term for the lizard equivalent -
containing natural vegetation; the rest are wild animals.)

Their name comes from Latin for ‘ground lion’, though most are arboreal; I'm at a loss to explain the 'lion' part either, though it may relate to the ornate neck decorations of some species. Chameleons all belong to one family of lizards, within the broader grouping that also includes iguanas and dragons, though they apparently separated from those at least 100 million years ago. It has been suggested that, based on the concentration of species there, they arose in Madagascar and spread, but recent detailed work shows that they most likely evolved in Africa and spread to Madagascar on two separate occasions. 

Male Panther Chameleon Furcifer pardalis crossing the road near Ankarana NP,
in the far north of Madagascar.
Like all lizards and snakes chameleons must shed their skin regularly, to expose a new, larger skin beneath.
Unlike most other vertebrates their skin does not expand as they grow.

They are characterised by gripping feet, a curious rocking gait, protruding eyes which can swivel independently, horns or crests on their head or face, a prehensile tail (in most species), an enormously extendable sticky tongue and of course the capacity to change colour.

The foot arrangement is often described as zygodactylous, but that is inaccurate as it properly refers to four toes, with the outer two opposing the inner two (as in parrots). A chameleon has five toes on each foot, flattened and bound together by skin into bundles of two and three toes, an excellent arrangement for gripping branches.  

Panther Chameleons (male above and female below), Peyrieras,
displaying their distinctive foot structure.

Chameleons have excellent vision (especially for a reptile), seeing in both violet (ie the wavelengths we see) and ultraviolet light. Upper and lower eyelids are fused, and the animal sees through a ‘pinhole’ just large enough to enable the pupil to function. They can focus on an insect up to ten metres away – the best magnification of any reptile. Their independently pivoting and swivelling eyes can allow them to focus on two objects simultaneously and have a 360 degree view of the world, but when hunting they focus together to give binocular vision. 

Oustalet's Chameleon Furcifer oustaleti, Anja Community Reserve, southern Madagascar,
watching us through its 'pinhole' eye.
This huge chameleon, arguably the world's largest (see below) lives in the arid forests of the west and south-west.

Female Panther Chameleon, Ankarana NP; her left eye is looking forward and her right
is focussed out to the side.

The 'horns' are in fact nose extensions covered in scales; mostly a feature of males, they form a key aspect of display and mate selection. 

Big Nose Chameleon Calumma nasuta, Ranomafana NP.

Northern Blue-nosed Chameleon Calumma linota, Amber Mountain NP.

Male Parson's Chameleon Calumma parsonii, Andasibe Mantadia NP.

Rhinoceros Chameleon Furcifer rhinoceratus Peyrieras.
(I am almost sure of this one, but happy to take advice to the contrary.)

Short-horned Chameleon Calumma brevicorne, Analamazaotra Lodge.

The prehensile tail is primarily used as an anchor while the animal is stepping across a gap between branches, but we also observed one hanging apparently lifeless by its tail from a wet cold tree early in the morning; by afternoon it had gone about its business.

This is the same Short-horned Chameleon as in the previous photo, first thing in the morning,
still in the torpor in which it had apparently spent the night.

Female Jewelled Chameleon, Peyrieras; presumably hanging on with tail as well, just in case!

Their tongue can be projected to more than twice the owner’s body length (in smaller species), via a complex muscular arrangement supplemented by an ‘elastic power amplifier’ based on energy stored in elastic collagen. The wet sticky tip grips prey strongly; the explosive extension of the tongue is independent of the surrounding temperature, while pulling it in again is slowed down by low temperatures. Prey mostly comprises insects, but larger species regularly take smaller lizards and even nestlings.

Panther Chameleon, Peyrieras, above and below.
The tongue strike is almost too fast to see, and I am nowhere near good enough to catch it extended!
This is the start of the strike.

And this the aftermath - the grasshopper didn't have a chance!

The colour change is often assumed to be primarily for camouflage, but display to females or rival males or threats, and temperature regulation, are at least as important in many situations. The mechanism has only been understood very recently (2015), and works by a combination of surface pigments and underlying guanine nanocrystal arrays. In relaxed mode these arrays tend to reflect shorter wavelength light (blues and greens) but when they are ‘excited’ the distance between the crystals increases and longer wavelengths (reds and yellows) are reflected. In combination with the surface pigments, which can also be dispersed variably, this can produce a surprising variety of colours and shades. 

Here is a series of individual male Panther Chameleons at Peyrieras; they were more or less in sight of each other, so it is possible they were reacting aggressively, though this is a very variable species.

All Madagascan chameleons are egg-layers, but some species elsewhere give birth to live young. 

Madagascar is home to both the smallest (Brookesia micra, less than 30mm long including tail) and the largest (either Parson’s or Oustalet’s Chameleon, both of which can be more than 650mm long) chameleon species. The tiny pygmy or leaf chameleons of Madagascar (Brookesia), and the pygmy leaf or African leaf chameleons of East Africa (Rhampholeon) spend most of their time foraging for tiny insects including ants among the leaf litter on the forest floor. There are over 30 described Brookesia species, but more are being recognised by the year - not an uncommon situation in Madagascar.

Brown Leaf Chameleon Brookesia superciliaris Ranomafana NP.

Brygoo's Leaf Chameleon Brookesia brygooi, Peyrieras.

Minute Leaf Chameleon Brookesia minima, Peyrieras.

Amber Mountain Leaf Chameleon Brookesia tuberculata.This is an immature animal, but still... The skill of the guide in finding this minute creature in the leaf
litter was amazing. I don't usually photograph animals being held, but there wasn't much choice here,
and her hand does give some idea of the scale.

Oustalet's Chameleon lives in the dry forests of the south-west and west, while Parson's is from the eastern rainforests. It is generally agreed that Parson's (which can be nearly 70cm long and weigh three quarters of a kilogram) is the more massive, while Oustalet's is a little longer but more lightly built.

Male Oustalet's Chameleon Lac Alarobia, Antananarivo.
It's a tough gig being a chameleon, it would seem!

Female Oustalet's crossing the road near Ankarana NP.

Male Parson's Chameleon, Andasibe Mantadia NP.

One huge problem in Madagascar is widespread habitat loss, with little original vegetation left outside reserves; this is especially true of the vast central plateau. Populations of many species are restricted to isolated reserves, and it is often unclear if they always had such limited distributions. The tiny Amber Mountain Leaf Chameleon above lives now only on this wonderful rainforested mountain in the far north, as does this species.

Amber Mountain Chameleon Calumma amber, Amber Mountain NP.

I think that chameleons are just wonderful, and I hope you do too. I hope too that eventually I can see some in other parts of the world.

NEXT POSTING MONDAY 23 OCTOBER
In a couple of days I'll be in South America, but I've prepared three
postings to appear while I'm away, albeit a bit less frequently than usual.
My aim will be to introduce just one member of (nearly) every Australian
bird family over those three postings, beginning on the first day of
National Bird Week.

(And remember that you can get a reminder when the next post appears by putting your email address in the Follow by Email box in the top right of this screen.)