Atherton: a tiny, despoiled but still special tropical tableland

Eight hundred metres above steamy Cairns, in tropical north Queensland, is a small volcanic plateau, not much more than 35km from north to south, and 25km west to east. Over the last four million years, until just 10,000 years ago, the area was subject to often vigorous volcanic activity. For most of that time the main impact of the repeated basalt flows across the countryside was that valleys were filled, producing a relatively flat surface, dotted with low rounded hills formed from the cones. More recently the surfacing lava met groundwater, producing violent explosions that generated the crater lakes Barrine and Eacham. 

Perhaps the most profound impact however was the gradual erosion of the layers of basalt which produced deep fertile soils. Until recently it supported tropical rainforest and now rare Mabi forest, a complex vine forest including deciduous and semi-evergreen trees. Those same soils however inevitably attracted farmers and graziers, though not until the late 19th century. Now crops and grazing land have almost entirely replaced the rich upland rainforest and the Mabi forest has nearly gone. Nonetheless there are still remnant protected areas, incorporated into the Wet Tropics of Queensland World Heritage Area (which comprises the rainforests of the northern Queensland tropics, from Townsville to Cooktown, and which I'll just refer to as the Wet Tropics hereafter). 

This really is a special part of the world. In the Wet Tropics area there are 11 species each of mammals and birds which are found nowhere else (ie are endemic), 13 species of reptiles and 22 of frogs, plus of course numerous endemic plants and invertebrates. See here for more detail. Quite a few of these species survive in the rainforest pockets of the Atherton Tablelandd.

Approximate location of the Atherton Tableland, at the end of the red arrow.

You will probably need to click on this map to see the detail. The yellow stars indicate
places on the tablelands mentioned in this post. The pale green area (ie most of it) is
cleared land. The dark areas are the only remaining forest, and even these remaining forest areas 
are mainly state forest and plantations, subject to logging. The largest reserved area 
is Crater Lakes NP, around Lakes Barrine and Eacham; this reserve is less than 1000ha, 
around half which is water (and is the subject of a follow-up post). 
Mt Hypipamee NP protects some 360ha, while Curtain Fig NP is less than 200ha. 
Hasties Swamp NP is 57ha, comprising an ephemeral wetland plus fringing remnant woodland.

This post is not however intended to dwell on what was lost - though we should never forget that - but to celebrate what is left. As mentioned above, the stunning Crater Lakes NP will get its own post soon; this one introduces the other sites I've mentioned. In our opinion the most pleasant town on the tableland is Yungaburra, small, nice old buildings (especially the pub) and leafy parklands (but I'm afraid I rarely think to take photos of towns!). The best-known natural attraction in town (or at least on the very edge of it) is a long pool on Peterson Creek on the road out to Atherton town, with a well-signposted Platypus viewing platform. We've been lucky there on a few occasions.

Platypus, late morning, Yungaburra.

On a recent visit there we found something quite unexpected on the nature strip of an intersection in the middle of town. 

Bush Stone-curlews Burhinus grallarius, central Yungaburra. They are mostly nocturnal
and tend to loaf about during the day.

They're one of my favourite birds, and the wailing calls at night (the 'curlew' of
Australian folklore) are my favourite Australian bird call, just after Pied Butcherbirds.
(The white fluffy bits on the legs, which I've just noticed, seem to be down feathers.)

One night, 20 years ago, I did something I rarely do in Australia, which was to engage a local to take us out looking for tree kangaroos, which I'd failed to find previously. On this occasion we did see a pair (hopeless photos, but see later!) but an equal highlight was this superb big owl. We started in Yungaburra and didn't drive far, but I'm not sure exactly where it was.  

Rufous Owl Ninox rufa, near Yungaburra - sorry about the head! It is only just smaller
than Australia's biggest owl, the Powerful Owl. They are found across the northern
tropics, especially in rainforest and vine forest, and take a range of prey including fruit
bats, possums, bandicoots and scrubfowl. 

Yungaburra is only a few minutes drive from the Crater Lakes, and even closer to the Curtain Fig National Park, the 200ha scrap of forest that exists mostly because of the tourist-attracting Curtain Fig Tree Ficus virens, one of the strangler figs. A bird or fruit bat drops seeds onto another tree, the germinating seedling sends roots down to the ground. When it is established thus it grows up and out, eventually shading the host tree out and killing by starving it of sunshine. As an independent tree, the strangler fig can be huge; the Curtain Fig is said to be one of the most massive trees known in the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area.

The Curtain Fig. It began life, perhaps 500 years ago, on a now-vanished host tree,
which toppled sideways, probably after dying, and leaned against a neighbouring tree.
After sending down the 'curtain' of roots from its 45 degree angle, the fig took over 
this tree too, and from its leaning position grew upwards again. 
I fine it very hard to get it all in one photograph. The 'curtain' doubtless provides
habitat for very many animals.

Volcanic rocks are scattered on the forest floor around the fig. This pocket of
forest contains one of the very few remnants of the Mabi vine forest. Since 2001
the fig has been accessed by a raised circular boardwalk, which both provides
access to those who might not otherwise be able to see it, and protects
the forest floor from compaction.

A very large ephiphytic Elkhorn (or Staghorn) Fern Platycerium sp.
A feature of rainforests is the wealth of epiphytes, which take advantage of a tree's 
huge energy investment in a massive woody trunk, by alighting (as a seed, or spore in this case)
onto that trunk to develop up in the sunlight. They are not parasitic and take nothing from the tree.

On one visit this delightful Green Ringtail Possum Pseudochirops archeri was roosting in a low tree
by the Curtain Fig carpark. This possum is only found in the Queensland Wet Tropics,
in a small area of upland rainforest. Its greenish fur is a trick of light, as it reflects from the 
yellow, black and white banding on each hair. This posture, resting curled up by day on 
a branch among foliage, is typical of the species. (The four other members of the 
genus are found in New Guinea and associated islands.)

More recently we did find our own tree kangaroo, in a large tree in a tea plantation near Malanda in the centre of the tablelands.

Lumholtz's Tree Kangaroo Dendrolagus lumholtzi, Malanda. These animals fascinate me.
Their distant ancestors were small ground-living mammals, some of which went up into
the trees and evolved into the modern possums. Later some of them came down
again and diversified into kangaroos and wallabies. Later still it seems that some rock 
wallabies again took to the trees, giving rise to the tree kangaroos. There are two species in tropical
Queensland - this one is confined to the Atherton Tableland - and another 15 in New Guinea.
This is one of the real treasures of the tableland!

This very large wasp nest has no connection with the tree kangaroo, except that
it was nearby. I didn't get close enough to attempt an identification.

Another popular tablelands destination is Mount Hypipamee National Park on the south-western edge of the tableland. The park, of just 360ha and centred on the Mount Hypipamee volcanic crater (often just called The Crater), is a lovely little rainforest remnant with walking tracks to the crater and along the creek below, past busy cascades. Bizarrely I seem never to have taken a photo of the spectacular tubular crater, 60m across and 80m deep, with a lake at the bottom. There are plenty of birds here but the cascades make it hard to hear them.

Cascades near The Crater, above and below.

Another very handsome Elkhorn Fern in the canopy.

Colourful mossy tree base by the walking track.

White-throated Treecreeper Cormobates leucophaea at The Crater. This is a widespread and
common species in near-coastal south-eastern Australia, but this is an isolated
population from the montane forests of the Wet Tropics. It is smaller and darker than
the more familiar southern birds.

Grey-headed Robin Heteromyias cinereifrons, a wet tropics endemic, by The Crater 
walking track. This rainforest robin is quiet and often unconcerned by us; I'm very fond of them.

And another Hypipamee rainforest robin, this time more distant and through misty rain - 
a soft little Pale Yellow Robin Eopsaltria capito. This one has a curious distribution, with two
widely separate populations - this one in the Wet Tropics, and another in north-east NSW
and adjacent south-east Queensland.

However this is without doubt our most memorable encounter at Mount Hypipamee.
This Southern Cassowary Casuarius casuarius was standing quietly in a little patch
of trees by the toilet block when I last took a tour there in 2015. She (I'm pretty sure,
due to her bright colours) was very aware of us, but not apparently concerned.
This species has declined in Australia and is listed as an Endangered Species, but there is 
some reason for optimism with increased protection measures and apparent population 
stabilisation. It is a truly magnificent animal.

Another Wet Tropics endemic found widely in the tablelands forests is the spectacular Spotted Catbird Ailuroedus maculosus. (There has been confusion in the past about the identity of Australian catbirds, but it is now generally agreed that there are three; this one, the Green Catbird A. crassirostris of more southern rainforests, and on Cape York the Black-eared Catbird A. melanotis which is primarily a New Guinea bird.)

Spotted Catbird in the carpark at Millaa Millaa Fals in the south of the tablelands.
Catbirds are a perhaps more primitive group of bowerbirds, which never discovered
bower building. Their weird yowling calls are disturbingly catlike - and even
more disturbingly can sound like a crying baby.

On the western edge of the tableland, just south of Atherton (the town) is Hasties Swamp NP, a place we always visit when in the area. It comprises a fairly substantial seasonal lagoon where we are served by a splendid two storey bird hide. The lagoon is nearly a kilometre long and at the hide is about 200m wide. I am shocked at how few photos I've taken there - perhaps things are usually too far away? On our most recent visit there was atypically not much bird diversity evident, though large numbers of Magpie Geese and Plumed Whistling Ducks were roosting along the edges.

Here are  a couple of photos taken there over the years. 

Wandering Whistling Ducks Dendrocygna arcuata and Plumed Whistling Ducks D. eytoni
at Hasties Swamp. Two very attractive long-legged ducks, belonging to a world-wide genus.
The Plumeds are confined to Australia, though widespread, and the Wanderings
(which in Australia actually don't wander as much as their cousin!) extend through New Guinea
to Indonesia and the Philippines.

Part of a huge assemblage of Plumed Whistling Ducks that stretched along the far shore.

Plumed Egret Ardea plumifera resting near the hide. 

Bleeding Heart Tree Homalanthus sp. in remnant woodland by the hide.

And of course we never know what we might see on any drive across the (largely uninspiring) cleared land of the tableland.

Spotted Harrier Circus assimilis perched by the roadside. I think this is one of the most
attractive of the birds of prey. This one has lost its tail - possibly moulting though 
August seems an odd time for that, but I don't really know the details of moulting in the tropics. 

Which brings us to the end of this introduction to the beguiling Atherton Tablelands. I hope you're curious enough to think about seeing it (or revisiting) for yourself one day. Next time (when summer will already be over, sigh) I'll be back with the concentrated delights of the Crater Lakes NP, where we spent a few days recently, though not for the first time. Thanks for reading.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 19 FEBRUARY

I love to receive your comments and I will notify you personally by email when a new posting appears, if you'd like me to. This will mean one email every three weeks at the current rate of posting. I promise never to use the list for any other purpose and will never share it. Should you wish to be added to it, just send me an email at calochilus51@internode.on.net. You can ask to be removed from the list at any time,or you could simply mark an email as Spam, so you won't see future ones.
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Waders Across the World

Of course lots of familiar waterbirds wade in water, including herons, ibis, spoonbills, plovers and flamingoes, but this post concerns one particular family which is officially called 'the waders' (Scolopacidae for the record), with many species found in every unfrozen continent. They are primarily birds of the seashores, though some can venture well inland to freshwater habitats. Nearly all those found in Australia breed in the tundra of the far northern hemisphere (especially Siberia) and then make the huge trip across the equator to somewhere warmer to feed on small animals which are mostly buried in beach sands and mud flats. Logically, Arctic-nesting birds fly generally due south after breeding, so those breeding in Europe (Scandinavia and Russia) will go to Africa, those in the Asian tundras fly to southern Asia and Australia, and birds breeding in Canada and Alaska go to South America.

A downside of this for us is that they mostly moult out of their often colourful breeding finery at the breeding grounds before they fly south, so they nearly all arrive wearing more or less the same grey-brown uniform.  

While in the south (their 'off season') their behaviour is influenced by tides, rather than by day and night, feeding on the exposed sands and muds when the tide is out, and roosting in huge mixed flocks on reefs or sandbanks at high tide. 

They can be frustrating to watch and identify properly. In addition to the colour uniformity and their tendency to feed in sometimes huge mixed flocks, they are very wary of intruders and any attempt to get close is likely to end in a whirl of grey wings disappearing to a distant part of the beach or around a headland. (In this context I can confess that in preparing this post I found a couple of errors in my photo identifications; feel free to let me know if you think I've still got any wrong.)

A mixed flock of waders on the beach at Buffalo Creek, Darwin.

Sanderlings Calidris alba and a bonus Hudsonian Whimbrel Numenius hudsonicus
on the Caulín Bay mudflats on Chiloé Island, southern Chile.

However there is often still some colour in the arriving spring flocks, and again in some waders which have started to moult before flying north again in autumn.

Bar-tailed Godwit Limosa lapponica in non-breeding plumage,
in February on Lady Elliot Island, southern Great Barrier Reef.

Bar-tailed Godwits 'colouring up' in March, Shoalhaven Heads, south coast NSW.

Grey-tailed Tattler Tringa brevipes, on rocks in February, Currarong, south coast NSW.

The same bird* a month later in the same spot, now in near-breeding plumage 
(you may have to click on the photo to see it properly - it really is quite handsome now).
*I can't be absolutely certain of course, but there was only ever one bird there,
always in this spot.

Some 40 species of waders visit Australia each year (though of course some are much commoner than others). There is a great size range among them from tiny scraps of sparrow-sized birds like stints and small sandpipers, through medium-sized sandpipers, knots, tattlers etc, to large godwits, whimbrels and curlews which may be 60cm long. Different sizes enable them to divide up the food resources more efficiently, but there is also a great diversity in bill size and shape, which further enables them to feed at different depths and with different approaches, this minimising inter-species competition. Here is a parade of some diverse waders (not all Australian) from small to larger.

Red-necked Stints Calidris ruficollis; part of an extended flock feeding like tiny rodents across the
mudflats of The Esplanade, Cairns in northern Queensland. (This is one of the best places in
Australia to watch waders, but if you're there in the cool of early morning you'll be looking
due east into the sun.)

Calidris is the largest genus of sandpiper with 24 diverse species, ranging from the tiny stints to the mid-sized bulky knots. Here are some more, roughly in ascending size. 

Least Sandpipers Calidris minutilla, actually the smallest of all sandpipers,
and which really belongs among the stints (or 'peeps' as I gather they're known
in North America). These were foraging in rock pools by a track on Isla Isabela
in the Galápagos; they don't come to Australia.

Baird's Sandpiper Calidris bairdii, inland and high in the Andes, in the hypersaline
waters of Laguna Chaxa in Los Flamencos National Reserve in the Atacama
Desert of northern Chile. This is another sandpiper essentially of the Americas.

 

Sanderling Calidris alba on the beach on Isla Santa Fé in the Galápagos.
Above, probing the sand with its stout straight bill, and below running 
along the beach.

 

 

Semipalmated Sandpiper Calidris pusilla, another tiny American sandpiper, also
in the Galápagos, this time on Isla Floreana. 'Semipalmated' means that its toes
are partially webbed, as can be seen clearly here.
(Like all other Galápagos wildlife, sandpipers here are readily approachable,
in a way that would be unthinkable elsewhere.)

Surfbird Calidris virgata, a particularly chunky (and again American) sandpiper,
again on Isabela in the Galápagos. This one has a very short stout bill for its size.

Great Knots Calidris tenuirostris, Cairns Esplanade. This is probably the largest of Calidris, with a 
relatively much longer bill than most of the others.

Like many waders in Australia, the numbers of Great Knots have dropped considerably in recent times. While travelling, they cannot feed in flight (unlike swallows or swifts for example), and must rely on finding an estuary at low tide. They can only survive if every link of a chain of feeding points is available (mostly around the Yellow Sea for birds coming to Australia), to enable the journey to be completed. In this case estuaries are seen in several east Asian countries as good sites for industrial development, such as chemical plants. More than a decade ago an authoritative paper calculated that 65% of Yellow Sea tidal flats had already been lost in the previous 50 years. The loss of such 'staging posts' is very serious indeed for migrating waders.

 

The next largest genus is Gallinago, which comprises 18 species of snipe, found in every continent except Antarctica. Unlike the previous genus, this one is quite homogenous across the species with regard to appearance and general behaviour; snipes are chunky mid-sized waders with a long straight probing bill and camouflaged plumage. They use marshlands rather than seashores, and can be found near the coast but also well inland and high into mountain ranges. 

Latham's Snipes Gallinago hardwickii, above and below, at Jerrabomberra Wetlands
in Canberra. They come here every year from their fir forest and meadow breeding 
grounds in northern Japan to spend summer. This population is subject
to ongoing studies, including the use of tracking devices, by researchers in both
Australia and Japan, assisted by volunteer 'citizen scientists'. The bird is the subject
of conservation treaties between Japan and Australia.

The surprisingly long beak can probe deep into the mud for living food.

Magellanic Snipe Gallinago magellanica in Torres del Paine NP, Chilean Patagonia. Until
recently this was known as South American Snipe, but that species is now known to comprise
two species, this one and the Pantanal Snipe G. paraguaiae. (Actually 'Pantanal' is an odd 
choice of name, as it is found across a huge range across most of South America east
of the Andes.) Curiously both these species (and most other South American snipes)
 are largely sedentary, and don't fly north to breed. 

The genus Tringa contains 13 medium-sized waders, generally long-legged with slender bills; in some species the legs are also distinctively coloured - old names for a couple of species contain 'shanks'. Only four are regularly found in Australia.

Grey-tailed Tattler at Currarong, south coast NSW. This is the same bird featured earlier
in examples of differences in plumage differences. There are two tattler species,
though only this one is commonly seen in Australia. Both species have plain grey
backs (in Australia) and yellow legs. This one is much less gregarious than most other
waders, except when forced to share high-tide roosts.

Wandering Tattler Tringa incana, Isla San Cristobal, Galápagos.
This, the 'other' tattler, is basically an American species, breeding in the Arctic
and wintering on the Pacific coasts of South America, though some find
their way to rocky shores of eastern Australia. 'Tattler' is a bit of a mystery
name; it seems to be based on the call, but this is not a conspicuous aspect of the
bird. When it does call it's a thin high whistle. The name apparently arose in 
North America in the 19th century, and was abruptly imported for
Australian use in 1926.

Wood Sandpipers Tringa glareola at Fivebough Swamp, Leeton, in the inland NSW Riverina.
This is typical habitat for them; migrants like all other Australian wader species, they
head inland instead of staying on the coast, looking for freshwater wetlands with emergent
vegetation. Not a good photo, sorry, but it's the best I've got. 

Common Greenshank Tringa nebularia, another migrant which tends to head inland
(I've seen one in Alice Springs) but also frequents coastal wetlands. In fact I've seen them in 
every Australian state and territory except for my own backyard in the ACT. Nonetheless 
they are usually pretty skittish in my experience, and I'm having to offer you this photo from
Singapore (though with the Estuarine Crocodile it could have been in 
tropical Australia). This one breeds right across the Eurasian Arctic and winters
in Africa and southern Asia, as well as Australia.

Common Redshanks Tringa totanus in our part of the world winter in south and
south-eastern Asia, with some coming as far as northern Australia; I once saw
one in Cairns, but that's all. This one, like the greenshank above, was
in Singapore (which is a great place for wetland birds by the way).

Greater Yellowlegs Tringa melanoleuca are not found in Australia. They breed
in Canada and Alaska and winter throughout South America. This one, like
the Sanderlings above, was enjoying the Caulín Bay mudflats on 
Chiloé Island, southern Chile.

A small genus of just two medium-sized species is widely represented (though certainly not abundantly) in the Australian summer by one of those species. The Common Sandpiper Actitis hypoleucos is not especially common here, though more so in the tropics; however it was of course so named in Britain. It is annually found right around the Australian coastline and far inland, especially in the north and west. 

Common Sandpiper, Darwin. Its plump erectness, straight sturdy bill and white shoulder
stripe are all distinctive, as is its solitary behaviour. 

Canberra has an interesting history with a couple of individual Common Sandpipers
which returned over a few consecutive summers - extraordinary navigation! From about 
2003 to 2005 one returned to a busy section of the River Murrumbidgee near Canberra,
popular in summer with picnickers and swimmers. Then from about 2020 to 2024 another
one took up summer residence at two sites close to each other in southern suburban
Canberra, firstly at Isabella Ponds then at a particular creek entering Lake Tuggeranong
(where this photo was taken). In both cases (it moved from the first site to the second 
after a couple of summers) it favoured concrete drains! Sadly it hasn't been reported 
this summer; I can only hope that it hasn't finished its journeying.

The Spotted Sandpiper Actitis macularius is the Common Sandpiper's counterpart in
the Americas, breeding in the north and summering in central and most of South America.
This one, on the Balleros Islands off southern Peru, is dwarfed by a South American
Sea Lion's flipper.

There are two species of turnstones, Arenaria, of which the immediately recognisable Ruddy Turnstone Arenaria interpres is found around most of the world's coastlines in the northern winter, having bred along the Arctic Ocean hinterland across Eurasia and North America. It is common on Australian beaches and rock platforms, and is most unwader-like in its distinctive plumage, even when not breeding, and in its portly body and short bill. I don't think of it as joining of other feeding flocks, mostly keeping to itself in small groups. (The Black Turnstone is limited to North American Pacific coasts.)

Small group of Ruddy Turnstones on Lord Howe Island, off northern NSW. The
top right birds is displaying some colour, which I wouldn't necessarily expect in
late January (though I'm no expert!).

A female Ruddy Turnstone coming out of breeding plumage (in October)
on Isla Fernandina, Galápagos.

The three species of phalarope, Phalaropus, are among the most interesting of waders, for their unexpectedness. Alone among wader groups, they spend nearly all their lives (when not breeding in the far north) at sea. While some do actually wade in near-coastal wetlands, they mostly swim for their food. In shallow water they often use a fascinating strategy of spinning in the water, thus creating a vortex which draws material up from the bottom, including small animals. While all three sporadically turn up in Australian waters, none do so as regular migrants.

Wilson's Phalarope Phalaropus tricolor, at the mouth of the Rio Lluta, Arica, far northern Chile.
The vortex it is causing is clearly visible. All three species are very colourful when breeding, but
all turn to grey and white garb afterwards.

Red-necked Phalaropes Phalaropus lobatus (above and below) in deep inshore waters
in the Galápagos - Isabela above and Daphne Major below.

Another curiosity of phalaropes is that all in three species females are larger and more colourful,
initiate mating and fight with other females over her mate, until their clutch is complete. 
Shen then leaves the males to brood the eggs and raise the chicks while she either
finds another mate or, if the season is getting too late, makes an early start to 
flying to warmer climes for winter.

Just for completeness, a distant shot of Grey (or Red) Phalaropes Phalaropus fulicarius, 
also in the Galápagos but further out to sea.

Finally there is a loose group of two genera of generally larger species - curlews and whimbrels (Numenius, 9 species) and godwits (Limosa 4 species). Nearly all have long slender bills; curlews and whimbrels have down-curved bills and in godwits they are straight or even tilt upwards. 

Far Eastern Curlew Numenius madagascariensis among the crabs on the Cairns Esplanade,
well away from the busy boardwalk. This is probably the largest living wader (along with
the Eurasian Curlew), and its numbers have dropped to the point where it is 
regarded as Critically Endangered in Australia. Numbers are still dropping and 
in this case the problem seems not to be of our making, or to be within our power 
to fix. (Ignore the species name incidentally - it doesn't visit Madagascar,
but in the 18th century it was named by Mathurin Brisson, who mistook
Makassar in Sulawesi for the better-known great Indian Ocean island.)

Hudsonian Whimbrels Numenius hudsonicus, Lima, Peru. Whimbrels 
are smaller, shorter-beaked versions of curlews, common across the shorelines of
much of the world. Until 2019 it was assumed that there was just one cosmopolitan
species, but it is now recognised that there are two quite separate species. This one 
migrates up and down the Americas, while the Eurasian Whimbrel Numenius phaeopus
breeds across the European Arctic and in scattered sites across Siberia. In the southern
winter this species occurs on shorelines across the Old World, including Australia.

Eurasian Whimbrel, Cape Hillsborough NP, central Queensland coast.
This is not an uncommon bird in Australia, though it is fairly flighty,
so I can't really imagine why this is the only photo I have of it!
(Memo to self...)

Bar-tailed Godwit Limosa lapponica, Lord Howe Island. This is the commonest large
wader in Australia, and the only one to regularly form flocks like the smaller waders
do. Note the slightly uptilted bill. They are not always constrained by the usual wader
migratory habit of flying due south after breeding. Many do of course, from 
breeding grounds right across Eurasia, but some also breed in Alaska
and fly south-west across the Pacific to Australia and New Zealand, a distance 
of over 11,000km without a stop. None of these Alaskan birds seem to go to 
South America. This is the longest single-stage flight that we currently know about.

Just about any beach or tidal inlet in Australia is likely to support a visiting population of Bar-tailed Godwits in summer. I've seen them in every mainland state and territory, including far inland in south-west Queensland and Lake Cargelligo in south-central NSW.

Part of a huge flock of Hudsonian Godwits Limosa haemastica in Castro, Isla Chiloé, Chile.
This species also breeds right across far northern America, but only winters in the south
of South America, though the occasional one has turned up in Australia. 
Very distant and ordinary photo, sorry!    

Waders live their lives between our world - the land - and the ocean. There is so much we still don't know, though we're catching up a bit. I worry that it might be too late, and with too few people doing the essential work while the actual decision-makers are not, for the most part, very interested, especially when international cooperation is involved.

I know that many people won't be very interested in this post, which of course is fine. I can only offer what I can, and leave it to my readers to pick and choose to fit their interests and time. However if you're still reading this, that doesn't apply to you, for which my thanks. It's hard to encourage people to care enough about something that they simply don't know about.

Wader aren't easy, from an observer's point of view (and I'm no expert) but they're fascinating and mysterious and worth a bit of effort. I think so anyway. 

 NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 19 FEBRUARY

I love to receive your comments and I will notify you personally by email when a new posting appears, if you'd like me to. This will mean one email every three weeks at the current rate of posting. I promise never to use the list for any other purpose and will never share it. Should you wish to be added to it, just send me an email at calochilus51@internode.on.net. You can ask to be removed from the list at any time,or you could simply mark an email as Spam, so you won't see future ones.
If you do leave a comment - and I love it when you do - please remember to click the
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