Seeking Hides

A rule of mine when travelling is never to drive past a sewage pond without visiting to see what birds are there. (You'd be astonished how many visitor information centres have no idea where their nearest ponds are!) It's becoming tricky actually, as lawyers increasingly impose themselves and more councils are closing their ponds to public access; really, there's not much other reason to visit some of those places!

Another 'must stop for' is a bird hide. Actually, the two are not necessarily exclusive of each other. In Paarl, north-east of Cape Town, the sewage works are delightfully called the Paarl Bird Sanctuary and come with welcome signs, an information shelter, hides and picnic tables! I was most impressed. Most hides are in wetlands, though not all. In Gluepot Reserve in the South Australian mallee, and at the excellent Arid Lands Botanic Garden in Port Augusta (also South Australia), there are good and productive hides facing small artificial drinking points in dry woodland.

Nor do hides necessarily have to feature birds, though most do.

White Rhinos, above, Nyala male below,
Kumasinga Waterhole, Mkuzi Reserve, Zululand, South Africa.

This superb hide, accessed by a wooden corridor two metres high and at least 200 metres long, overlooks a small pipe-fed pool. Needless to say, birds feature heavily too - a gorgeous Purple-crowned Turaco springs to mind.

Elsewhere in South Africa I recall the impressive Sable Hide in Kruger National Park, where one can rent a fold-down bed for the night. This is an especial treat because in most of Kruger you are forbidden to get out of the vehicle, on pain of instant expulsion from the park. (Or death, depending on whether the rangers get to you before an elephant, lion or buffalo.)

So, what is a hide? Essentially it is just a little room, usually wooden, with slot windows in front and perhaps the sides, and benches to sit on. Ideally the approach will be screened so that birds are not scared off even before you get to the hide.

Cygnus Hide, Kellys Swamp, Jerrabomberra Wetlands, Canberra. The brush fences screen the approaches to the hide from the birds on the water (to the left of the picture).

Crucially, it has a back wall (or usually a wooden baffle, inside or outside, masking the doorway) so that watchers sitting at the windows are not silhouetted from the front of the hide. Birds are nervous about this, and generally won't come as close. It's a universally recognised requirement, so it's a surprise to find a few hides that overlook this necessity. In Australia, Abattoir Swamp Environmental Park near Julatten in tropical Queensland is one which is notorious for this design flaw (at least it was last time I was there, some years ago now; if it's been rectified I'd be glad to pass on the good news). This hide is also notorious for being bird-poor in a very bird-rich area, though of course I can't say that this is the only reason. New hides near Lake Cargelligo in central western New South Wales were built similarly flawed, though I've heard that there is interest in fixing them.

Embarrassingly and incomprehensibly, the formerly excellent hides at Kellys Swamp, Jerrabomberra Wetlands - Canberra's premier wetlands - have recently been severely compromised by having the internal baffles removed so that the incumbent birders are now clearly silhouetted!

Cygnus Hide, Kellys Swamp, from a bird's eye view. Anyone sitting in the middle of the hide is now clearly outlined against the sky behind. Nor is the problem just from straight in front, as the shot below from off to one side illustrates.

Additionally, there were extra benches along the internal baffles, so there is now also less seating area. The rationale is a complete mystery. At one stage it was vaguely suggested that some people might be nervous about coming into a dark hide, but I've never met or heard of a birder unwilling to use these hides (though I know of hundreds who do). A direct written question to the board administering the wetland failed to elicit a response, so one must assume that no such survey was ever actually done and that hideophobia is an urban wetland myth. [Since I first posted this it's been brought to my attention that the need for wheelchair access was another motivating factor; if so, it would not have been difficult to extend the hide back a bit to allow manvouevring space around the baffle.]

The little screen to the right of shot in the first picture of the hide above is supposed to overcome this problem but, as the subsequent photos show, it is nowhere near high enough.

My consolation comes from my experience of cycles and corporate memory; one day someone will say "isn't it funny that they never thought to put baffles in those hides?", and they will reappear!

In Peru and Ecuador (and probably elsewhere in South America) there are hides erected at clay licks where parrots come in to collect clay at cliff faces or river banks - apparently primarily as a sodium source, though we can talk more about that another day. Some, such as this one near Amazonia Lodge on the Rio Madre de Dios, are very basic open structures, but backed by a vegetated bank.

Needless to say, the views here as elsewhere are not guaranteed!

My very favourite bird hide anywhere however is this superb two storey structure which boasts its own toilet! It is run by the Blanquillo Lodge further downstream from Amazonia Lodge.

This is only a section of it. As the parrots move to new sections of the clay bank (visible through the wooden supports below the hide itself) the hide is extended; it is at least a hundred metres long. Note the solid back wall.

Here are some views from it.

Orange-cheeked Parrots Pyrilia barrabandi and Blue-headed Parrots Pionus menstruus.

Red and Green Macaws Ara chloropterus, above and below.

Yellow-crowned Parrots Amazona ochrocephala, Mealy A. farinosa and Blue-headed Parrots.

Zone-tailed Hawk Buteo albonotatus.This is not the only predator to chance its arm (or wing) at the licks. An entry in the log book for the previous week described how an Ocelot sprang from the foliage and seized a macaw!

Finally, I must share with you this somewhat sobering sight from Peru. The previous year we had delighted in Andean Cocks-of-the-Rock Rupicola peruvianus displaying from a little rainforest hide by the road. In the intervening February very heavy rains had caused many landslides, including the one that reduced the hide to this.

Ruins of Cock-of-the-Rock Hide, San Pedro, Peru, 2010, above and below.
Fortunately it wasn't being used at the time!
When I was last there, the scene below had been dense rainforest.

However, you shouldn't really be put off using hides by this - most of them never get struck by landslides, thunderbolts or mortar shells! 

And there are few if any better places on earth for just contemplating life, in between enjoying the wildlife at close range.

Red, Black and Conspicuous

It's been a while now since my last posting on colours in nature - red on that occasion - wherein I promised to get back to look at some of the many organisms, especially birds, which combine red and black to very striking effect. At least it's striking to our eyes, but we must assume that it is to other creatures as well, given its relative prevalence. Red is a colour intended to be seen; to attract a mate, to warn of the hazards of trying to eat the wearer, or in a plant to attract an animal to pollinate or distribute seeds in ripe fruit.

Masked Crimson Tanager Ramphocelus nigrogularis, Amazonia Lodge, Peru.
In this species both sexes carry the bright colours, though the female is slightly duller.

I think in the case of animals the combination with black is a variation on the theme, though in shadowy situations such as rainforest it presumably breaks up the outline and perhaps confuses predators for the essential extra second or so.

Black-necked Red Cotinga Phoenicircus nigricollis, Yasuni NP, Ecuador.
This is regarded as a tough bird to find, and I feel very privileged to have actually got a usable photo of one.
In this case the female has brown instead of black.

We know very little about this bird, though males seem to display. While there is some doubt about whether it's more closely related to cotingas or manikins, this does fit in with a pair of much better-known cotinga species, the cocks-of-the-rock. Here the males form a display lek, with the most successful birds taking the prized central positions, to where the waiting females head. Like the Black-necked Red Cotinga, she too is brown rather than red.

Andean Cock-of-the-Rock Rupicola peruvianus:
males, Manu, Peru above; female, Aguas Calientes, Peru, below.

It is significant that in many smaller red and black birds only the male is coloured; his job is to intimidate other males, impress females with his condition and his ability to survive despite being so conspicuous, and perhaps to distract predators from her, the nest and eggs. She has no need at all to be easily seen.

Scarlet Robin Petroica boodang, Canberra; male above, female below.
The shot above doesn't show how black he is on top.

Other examples of startlingly red and black males with brown-grey females follow.

Long-tailed Meadowlark Sturnella loyca, Chilean Patagonia.
Male above, female below.

 

Northern Red Bishop Euplectes franciscanus, Murchison Falls NP, Uganda.
Not only are bishop and weaver females brown, but they are virtually indistinguishable from each other.

Red-backed Fairy-wren Malurus melanocephalus, Ingham, Queensland.
Like all fairy-wrens females, she is plain brown, whereas he glows through the scrub.

 On the other hand the females of some larger, more pugnacious species can afford to be as conspicuous as their blokes.

Papyrus Gonolek Laniarius mufumbiri, near Kagadi, Uganda.
A bush-shrike, this is a notorious skulker, which is another reason for both members of the pair to be visisble.

Magellanic Woodpecker Campephilus magellanicus,Torres del Paine NP, southern Chile.
This is the male; she has less red in the head, but still stands out. This is a big, dramatic woodpecker!

Examples of red and black in other organisms (and I'm limiting myself here to bright reds, not rusty or orange) are less easy to find.

Millipede, Mt Kupe, western Cameroon.
Many millipedes taste bad, and I suspect that this one is emphasising the point.

Nor can I find many plant examples, but I'm happy to go out today with one of my favourite Australian wildflowers, and the floral emblem of my birth-state, South Australia.

Sturt's Desert Peas Swainsona formosa, Broken Hill, New South Wales.
Sprawling across the ground, these are bird-pollinated and perhaps have to be particularly striking to catch the attention of passing honeyeaters. On the other hand a bird would have to be particularly dense to miss this display!

BACK ON SUNDAY

Huntress in the House

I suspect that if I were rather smaller - the size of a silverfish say - I would find this a pretty terrifying prospect. I probably wouldn't be given much time to consider the matter however.

Female Huntsman Spider Isopeda villosa, on our bedroom wall.
I am grateful to Dr Linda S Rayor of Cornell University for identifying her for me, instantly and graciously,
and to Dr Dave Rowell of the Australian National University for forwarding my request to her.

The greatest initial threat to me, in my temporary guise as a silverfish, would be those eight long quick legs. Most spiders have two pairs facing forwards and two back, and walk fairly deliberately with the bodies held high. 

Orbweb Spider (possibly Eriophora transmarina, a very variable species) showing the leg configuration
of most spiders.

The huntsmen (in this case Family Sparassidae) have all four pairs bending backwards; perhaps counter-intuitively they run sideways however! Their body touches the ground as they run.

Another view of 'our' huntress. The splayed out legs can be seen clearly, along with the fact that each has seven joints.
The two joints closest to the body are short, but in huntsmen the outermost one, the tarsus (the 'foot') is unusually long. Overall this gives great agility.

The photos here were taken on a vertical wall, which she glides over as easily as if it were horizontal. Most spiders have three little claws on the tip of each tarsus - the outermost leg segment. In this magnified shot of the two rearmost tarsi, we can see that she has two such claws; what we can't really make out is that instead of the third claw she has a brush running the length of the underside of the tarsus to further help her grip the surface.

We can just see the two claws on each tarsus.

We can also clearly see the hairs which cover her legs (her name villosa means hairy). These are sensitive to vibrations, including those of air currents.

A closer view of the head wouldn't give me much confidence either, in my silverfish persona.

Eight eyes (four small ones above four large ones) would ensure I was clearly visible to her, were I a silverfish. The massive chelicerae (fangs), between two palps, are definitely all the better to eat me with. More below.

Unlike insects, with three body segments, spiders have just two; they have an abdomen like an insect, but a single cephalothorax includes head and 'chest', and carries the legs. The first pair of appendages on the cephalothorax are the massive chelicerae, seen here immediately below the four larger eyes. They comprise the large basal segments, which can be effective crushers, folded into which (out of sight) are hard sharp fangs, which inject venom via a tube. Her mouth parts are hidden behind them. Rapidly resuming my human persona, even if I were to harass her enough to make her bite me, the venom would do me no harm - it is mostly designed to break down insect bodies for easy digestion. The fangs would give me a painful - and fully deserved - stab though. 

Outside the chelicerae is a pair of six-jointed palps, resembling short legs (see pic above). They are sensory and are used to help manipulate food; in the male however they are swollen at the tip and are effectively sexual organs, carrying and transferring sperm.

These spiders are often referred to as tarantulas. The name it seems originated with the town of Taranto in Italy, which also gave its name to the dance Tarantella. The spider, which was actually a wolf spider of the family Lycosidae, was reputed to cause the dance by biting - or alternatively the dance was the antidote to the bite, it all depends on your choice of myth. It seems that the bite of the local wolf spider could in fact cause considerable distress, though there are diverging views on this. However this is the opinion of Bert Brunet in his excellent Silken Web; a natural history of Australian spiders, and I readily defer to him. Other opinions always welcomed however! 

Whatever the truth of that, the name became transferred to the primitive big hairy scary-looking (but generally harmless) ground-dwelling American spiders of the family Theraphosidae, though the family is found through much of the warmer world. How and why the name then transferred here, to yet another family of spiders, is unclear. 

Tarantulas; above Blanquillo Lodge Peru, below Sacha Lodge Ecuador

Whatever you choose to call her, our huntress is a very welcome member of our household. Tough luck silverfish!

Next time it's probably time to return to the long-promised discussion of red and black creatures.

BACK ON THURSDAY

Kosciuszko National Park #3; some inhabitants

This is the third - and last - of my postings based on our delightful weekend (last weekend) in Kosci, as it's affectionately known here. The high country in summer is rich in flowers and insects (birds are a bit limited, as there are easier pickings lower down), but we were a bit late to get the full benefit of that. Accordingly a couple of the pics below are from a working trip I did there a couple of years back. 

This will basically be just a gallery.

Hoary Sunrays Leucochrysum albicans above Lake Cootapatamba.
This daisy grows widely, including down around Canberra.
However more than twenty species of plants are found only in the park.

Brachycome obovata growing entirely in water. Cold feet!

Ribbony Grass Chionochloa frigida.This is primarily a New Zealand genus, with only a couple of species in Australia.

Alpine Gentians Gentianella muelleriana, above and below. One of the last of the summer flowers.

The lines are guides for pollinating insects.

Purple Eyebright Euphrasia collina. Eyebrights were supposed to cure eye afflictions - Milton mentioned that, though he still went blind, poor man. They grow in association with root fungi, and can't be cultivated; another reason to go to the mountains in summer!

Alpine Mint-bush Prostanthera cuneata. A lovely shrub, but only a couple of flowers were left.

Snow Beard-heath Leucopogon montanus. Lower down it grows as a shrub, but up here it,
like many other species, lies as a mat on the ground to avoid the wind.

Grasshopper on Xerochrysum apiculatum. (Taken on an earlier trip.)

Bidgee-widgee Acaena novae-zelandiae. The purpose of the burry fruits
is obvious in the picture below. My boots are just substituting for a wombat's fur!

Metallic Green Damselfly Austrolestes cingulatus. (Also taken on the earlier trip; too cold for insects last week!)

Little Ravens Corvus mellori prowl the meadows (and the village!) searching mostly for insects.

Well that's it for today, and for this topic - for now anyway, we intend to be back there a bit earlier in the season next summer.

Speaking of summer, yesterday it officially ended here yesterday (we use the meteorological definition here) - and a cold wet miserable last day of summer it was too. Personally I regret its passing but every season has something for a naturalist.

BACK ON MONDAY