March of the Orchids

I don't generally think of March as being a good time for orchids around here, but when I started to go through my records, I decided that I might be wrong. In this part of the world at least, it's not so much a time for colourful ones, but there are quite a few fascinating and beautiful orchids (sorry, tautology!) to be found in this first month of autumn. As I've mentioned before, Australia uses the Meteorological definition of the seasons, according to which autumn officially began on 1 March.

Several species of greenhoods can be seen now. A brief word on the somewhat fraught state of Australian orchid taxonomy to explain oddities relating to genus names. Traditionally all greenhoods - some 200 or so of them - were placed in the genus Pterostylis, and for probably the majority of people they still are. However, as part of their gargantuan task of re-examining nearly all the Australian orchid genera, David Jones and Mark Clements of the Australian Herbarium split Pterostylis into 16 genera, mostly based on already recognised sub-genera. Their work was thorough and largely based on biochemical criteria. Jones, recently retired, is widely regarded as the doyen of Australian orchid taxonomists and conservationists; Clements is also well-respected. Unfortunately they chose to publish in The Orchadian, the journal of the Australasian Native Orchid Society - which does not peer-review its articles. In large part due to this, much of their conclusions have not been accepted by other taxonomists.

However, the only comprehensive identification guide to Australian orchids is written by Jones - so you see our problem... Around here it's even trickier as he also authored an excellent Field Guide to the Orchids of the Australian Capital Territory, which we all rely on. All of which is a long-winded way of explaining why several of the species which follow have two genus names; given that my audience is international, I'll use the most widely-accepted names, with Jones' names in brackets. (The same issues arise with some other genera, but they are not relevant to this posting other than the last species featured.)

All these photos were taken in March, but not necessarily this year. Except where specified, the locations are all in the Australian Capital Territory.

Summer Greenhood Pterostylis (Diplodium) decurvum, Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve.

Dainty Greenhood Pterostylis (Diplodium) reflexum, Black Mountain, Canberra.
Below, part of a large colony.

Little Dumpies Pterostylis (Diplodium) truncatum, Black Mountain, Canberra.
I do like such quaint folk names, whose origins are now lost to us.

Blushing Tiny Greenhood Pterostylis (Speculantha) rubescens, Black Mountain, Canberra.

The rest of the featured orchids are not greenhoods, though there are certainly other greenhoods to be found. Dennis Wilson of The Nature of Robertson features a rare one here.

Large Midge Orchid Acianthus exsertus, Black Mountain, Canberra; above and below.
These were probably atypically early, but were well within March.
('Large' is relative, it's worth pointing out!)

Parson's Bands Eriochilus cucullatus,
above (Smith's Road near Angle Crossing) and below (Mongarlowe, New South Wales).
These delightful little orchids flower from late summer well into autumn; they range from rich pink to white.

Mountain Spiral Orchid Spiranthes alticola, Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve.
This a truly exquisite little orchid, with each flower being no more than 5mm long;
there can be dozens of them twisting up the stem.
This used to be regarded as one species, S. sinensis, found all the way to China, but Australian plants are now known as S. australis; the species illustrated is recently described by David Jones and is widely accepted.

Tiny Strand Orchid Bulbophyllyum (Adelopetalum) exiguum, Nowra, New South Wales.
Another delightful miniature, flowers only 5mm long, growing on logs and rocks in rainforest.The splitting of Bulbophyllum by Jones is also contentious

For a couple of other March orchids, see my recent post on my visit to Monga National Park.

BACK ON THURSDAY

Eurobodalla Regional Botanic Gardens; treasure at the coast

I suspect that the majority of Canberrans make the 150km journey across the edge of the Monaro Plains, through historic Braidwood and down the steep curves of forested Clyde Mountain to Batemans Bay at least once a year. Many own or have access to holiday homes of varying grandeur or simplicity up and down the coast; we don't, though we do spend three or four weekends a year there in general. 'The Bay' is a sprawling conurbation now, but there are still quiet little off-road settlements nearby. We have a flexible set of rituals while we're there, but one unbreakable rule is a visit to the delightful Eurobodalla Regional Botanic Gardens, 42 tranquil hectares of forest and open space dedicated to local native plants. 

As you will have by now divined, this is to be another in my occasional series on favourite botanic gardens, the most recent of which you can find here.

Prostanthera porcata, a threatened species from rugged slopes in the nearby Budawang NP, only described in 1984.
All plants in the gardens are local, which is defined here as the catchments of the Clyde, Deua and Tuross Rivers.

The story of the ERBG (if I may be so familiar) is above all one of community spirit and an unusually successful co-operative venture between community, local government and a state government department. In 1986, in a reversal of the usual way of doing things, a Friends group was formed to press for a local native botanic gardens. In 1988 the Eurobodalla Shire came on board, and NSW State Forests was convinced to lease the selected area - which had not been logged for 100 years - to the shire for use as a botanic gardens. A management committee was established to oversee the development. Most of the financial support comes from the shire, with the help of government grants and vigorous fund-raising by the Friends. 

As a result of being unlogged since the early 20th century, there are some big original eucalypts
in the forests of the Gardens.

The path has not been easy. A massive bushfire in January 1994 set development back a long way. In September 2010 a destructive storm brought down numerous trees, one of which crushed the new orchid house just prior to its scheduled opening. Some of the 7km of walking tracks are still closed following that event, awaiting the funds to clear them.

Nonetheless they are now a delight to visit. The first thing a visitor encounters is the cafe and visitors' centre, which come into view as we cross a little bridge over Pat's Creek, usually busy with birds.

The Chef's Cap Cafe is on the left, with the Wallace Herbarium on the right.
The tower provides cooling in summer by drawing up hot air from the buildings.

We always indulge in at least a coffee, if not lunch, at the cafe, attended invariably
by busily speculative Superb Fairy-wrens.

Superb Fairy-wren Malurus cyaneus male, moulting into his plain winter garb,
sharing a table at the Chef's Cap Cafe.

The garden beds emphasise plants suitable for home cultivation, as well as special theme plantings including dryland, wetland and sensory gardens. Plants propagated by the horticultural team but surplus to Gardens requirements are available for sale; some unusual species can be found on occasions. This Easter there's a big sale of these plants on - see here for more details.

Looking south from the Visitors' Centre.

Chef's Cap Correa Correa baeuerlenii, from which the cafe takes its name.
It is limited to about 150km of forests south from here.

Three quarters of the area is retained as original forest, with walking tracks winding through.

Wet sclerophyll forest along the gully of Deep Creek.

The tracks feature information signs, including on indigenous usage of local plants.

Discussion of indigenous use of Burrawang, the cycad Macrozamia communis, alongside the plant.

The ten hectares of cleared land were already cleared when the site was chosen; they are designed to encourage use, for picnics and family gatherings. Children are well-catered for.

Excellent playground, including large robust musical instruments, such as the 'harp' below, played by hitting with the metal pipes supplied and tied on!

All-weather picnic shelter.

Covered stage at amphitheatre, used for concerts.

Orchid house, built to replace the one destroyed in the 2010 storm.

Water features strongly throughout the gardens; water for the ponds is mostly drawn from Deep Creek.

Two of the rich, near natural-seeming artificial ponds.

From the bird hide looking out over extensive wetland at the north-western end of the Gardens.

And speaking of birds, they are of course another feature; here are just a couple that I've photographed here at different times.

Jacky Winter Microeca fascinans, an Australian robin, which hunts insects by 'perching and pouncing'.

Eastern Whipbirds Psophodes olivaceus are generally cryptic, but sometimes come out to feed on the lawns here.

Australian Wood Ducks Chenonetta jubata, appreciate both the ponds and the lawns where they graze.

Fan-tailed Cuckoos Cacomantis flabelliformis are spring and summer visitors, when their perpetual downward trills compete with the cicada chorus.

The gardens are well-marked on the left about five kilometres south of Batemans Bay on the Princes Highway. Bearing in mind that they're closed on Monday and Tuesday, make sure you put some time aside to visit next time you're down that way. Have a look here for some more information. Beware before you visit though - you'll be hooked too.

BACK MONDAY

Walking the Malabar Cliffs; the end of Lord Howe

As I have mentioned before, Lord Howe Island is a very special place. One very memorable walk is along the tops of the Malabar Cliffs at the north end of the main island. It's a bit of a climb, but only to a little over 200 metres above sea level, starting at Ned's Beach. From up here though - initially on Malabar Hill, then along the cliffs themselves and finally on Kim's Lookout at the western end (underneath the 'b' of Malabar in the map below) - the views are superb, south right along the island and north to the offshore islets.

Here are a few of those views.

Ned's Beach from Malabar Hill; the route up gives grand views out to the sea to the east.

Looking west along the cliffs.

View south from Malabar Hill; the settlement is to the right, Mounts Lidgbird and Gower loom in the distance.

Same view south, from Kim's Lookout, a couple of kilometres to the west.

Admiralty Islands from the Malabar Cliffs, looking north.

There is no doubt though that one of the highlights of the walk in summer is the floating parade of Red-tailed Tropicbirds Phaethon rubricauda that drift past, often displaying, sometimes in elegant courtship pairs. In these flights one bird drifts along while the other 'stands up' in the air, pushing so that it goes backwards, while both point their tails towards each other. At this time of year they nest on the cliff faces, in scrapes on the ground; here on Lord Howe is apparently the greatest breeding concentration in the world.

They range across the Pacific and Indian Oceans, but the places where we can enjoy them so readily from land are very limited. 

Sadly I didn't manage to catch a photo of the pair display, though we watched them entranced for ages.

These were the stars, but it would be unfair to ignore some of the other beautiful seabirds that soared along the cliffs.

Masked Booby Sula dactylatra; this is a big bird and their vertical plunges into the ocean from high up, chasing fish, are dramatic.

Sooty Tern, Onychoprion fuscatus;
they breed everywhere on the island in noisy restless colonies - the locals call them Wideawakes.

There are many excellent reasons to spend a week on Lord Howe; the Malabar Cliffs is one good one.

Roach Island from Malabar Cliffs.

BACK ON FRIDAY

From Monga to Gondwana (via some orchids)

Last November I waxed lyrical about one of my favourite national parks, Monga, which is just off the highway on the way from Canberra to the coast at Batemans Bay - a well-trodden route indeed in this part of the world. (One we are treading ourselves this weekend.) During this week I returned there, following a heads-up from my friend Martin of House of Fran-Mart - the primary motive was the fact that the Pinkwoods are flowering.

Pinkwood (or Plumwood) Eucryphia moorei, Monga National Park

Eucryphia is a small ancient rainforest genus of trees which can trace their antecedents directly back to Gondwana. Five species are from eastern Australia, while two grow in Patagonian rainforests. It is remarkable to find one genus growing in two continents which have been separated for at least 60 million years; not only must it have already evolved and existed in both places by then, but it has changed very little in the meantime. 

Ulmo Eucryphia cordifolia, southern Chile.
Photo courtesy Franz Xaver; my own photo of it is too terrible to use!

Until recently it was the sole occupant of family Eucryphiaceae, but more recent thinking places it in the related and much larger rainforest family Cunoniaceae (known in Australia for NSW Christmas Bush Ceratopetalum gummiferum and Coachwood C. apetalum). One species E. jinksii  was discovered in subtropical northern New South Wales less than 20 years ago; another E. wilkiei lives only in one population on one mountain in tropical Queensland.

Eucryphia wilkiei National Botanic Gardens, Canberra.

The best-known species in Australia is probably Leatherwood E. lucida from Tasmania, which produces strong-tasting honey - I think it is probably the pinnacle of honeys, but others find it too robust. It is no coincidence that Ulmo produces a similar honey in Chile and Argentina.

Pinkwood, the species I went to Monga to admire, is limited to New South Wales (other than an incursion of a kilometre or so into far eastern Victoria). It grows in a series of isolated populations in a unique type of cool temperate rainforest on near-coastal ranges in southern New South Wales.

I was lucky - the ground was liberally carpeted with untold millions of fallen petals. A few days more and I might have struggled to find any intact flowers.

Pinkwood petals scattered on a treefern (above) and the boardwalk (below),
as well as everywhere in between!

Up towards the ridge a little I was pleased to see the first of the Sunshine Wattle Acacia terminalis for the season; this lovely bright wattle flowers right through winter and can brighten a dull cold day. No requirement for that service on this day however!

Sunshine Wattle, Monga National Park.

The delightful Eastern Yellow Robins Eopsaltria australis are a feature of the park; if anything the young birds which are now making their way in the world are even more curious and confiding than their parents.

Immature Eastern Yellow Robin, which would have hatched in spring.
Below, it landed almost on my feet in pouncing on an insect snack.

 

Finally on birds I offer this pretty ordinary snap, as the only one I've ever managed of this ever-moving rainforest specialist, which is close to the southern limit of its range here.

Large-billed Scrubwren Sericornis magnirostris.
From side on the heavy bill points slightly upwards, as if glued on crookedly.

As suggested in the title, I also stopped between home and Monga to investigate a couple of orchid reports I'd been given; both sites are between Braidwood and Monga, but it's not wise, sadly, to be too precise with unusual orchid localities in a public forum.

Scarlet Greenhood Diplodium (Pterostylis) coccinum.
Greenhood orchids are of course supposed to be green; this stunner is a dramatic exception.

Mongarlowe Midge Orchid Corunastylis oligantha.
The midge orchids can be a bit tricky to locate, down among the grass;
these are less than 15cm high, with flowers only a few millimetres long.
They are one of the groups of 'upside down' orchids, in case you're having trouble interpreting the picture.

As I've said before, I'll talk about the upside down orchids in more detail at some stage. I'll also do a posting on some more autumn orchids.

Meantime, a last image of a very old and very beautiful flower whose ancestors looked like this when the southern lands were still one.

Pinkwood, Monga National Park.

BACK ON TUESDAY

Oddbills 3

This is the third in a sporadic series on bird bills that are even more remarkable than this wonderful organ normally is. The previous offering in this series can be found here.

Today you get two for the price of one. Although our two stars are entirely unrelated (indeed neither has any apparent close relatives) they have surprisingly similar bills. 

The dramatic Shoebill Balaeniceps rex (ie 'king whale-head!') is a big bird indeed, standing up to 1.5 metres high and with a massive and unlikely-looking bill well over 20 centimetres long. It is a resident of the huge papyrus swamps of central east Africa, from Zambia north to Sudan. Due to the difficulty in penetrating these dense wet vastnesses it is not well known, and even its populations are uncertain. Like many other large birds it soars, and this is how it is often first seen, high over the reedbeds.

Shoebill, Murchison Falls National Park.
The slightly mad-looking eyes can be a bit disconcerting, but more so I suspect
if you were about to be seized by that huge bill!
The wickedly-hooked tip can be seen below.

I feel very privileged to have seen this special bird, but we couldn't get very close.
A scattered herd of elephants was starting to take interest in us and our local guide and driver, Livingstone, was forced to thread our way out in the four-wheel drive through some very tricky broken ground, while avoiding grumpy jumbos.

The bill is an all-purpose prey trap, though its emphasis is on large fish, especially lungfish and catfish. A range of other prey has been reported, and in some areas water snakes form a significant part of the diet. In addition to the hooked tip there are serrations along the edges, for further gripping and cutting efficiency. Adults will also carry loads of water in it for chicks in the ground-based nest for the first weeks of their life, until they can walk to water.

Half the world away, in another part of Gondwana, the Boat-billed Heron Cochlearius cochlearius is found throughout much of the tropical Americas, from Mexico south through central America and down to northern Argentina. Despite this large range it is not often seen - I've only seen it twice in nine trips to South America. It is currently placed in its own sub-family, but there are those who would reinstate an older view which believes that it warrants its own family, like the Shoebill.

Boat-billed Heron, Sacha Lodge, Amazonian Ecuador.
One of the reasons it is hard to find is that it is nocturnal, coming out from a secluded roost on dusk.
This beautiful bird was seen from a canoe in a channel in fading light, sorely testing both my basic camera and me!
(In the circumstances I wasn't too unhappy with this result.)
The snappy long black crest can just be seen.

It is only a third the size of the Shoebill, and so the similarly flattened and hooked bill is much smaller. It too snaps up a range of prey, especially fish and invertebrates and small land mammals. It also uses it as a scoop, in a way that no other heron does that I can think of. 

More marvellous bills coming up sometime in the future; I hope you've enjoyed these as much as I did.

MEANTIME, BACK FRIDAY