Galah

Here we have another example of an exotic bird in a decidedly not-exotic natural setting. This is a galah. It’s one of the smaller members of the cockatoo family, about 14 inches long. Galahs live throughout Australia, and the are not hard to find. Quite the opposite. You’ll see them in big groups in open fields. And unlike so many species of birds that have almost been wiped out because of human interference, we’ve actually made galahs more abundant, because they eat crops and make use of the cattle drinking ponds and wells.

I took this shot in Apollo Bay, in somebody’s back yard. A small group of them were pecking for worms and insects. They wouldn’t let me get right next to them, but they didn’t seem to care when I was 10 or 12 feet away. As I traveled through Australia, I’d see them on power lines, in trees, all over the place.

And although I never heard anyone use the term, Wikipedia informs me that this bird’s name has become part of the native slang for an idiot or clown, e.g. “flaming galah!”

Jurassic Park bird?

This bird looks like it might have flown right out of Jurassic Park. It’s the New Zealand Kaka, a large and endangered parrot. Conservationists there estimate there are fewer than 10 thousand of them, thanks entirely to a deadly one-two punch delivered by humans. Although New Zealand has just over four million people living in an area roughly the size of Great Britain, all but a sliver of the native forests these birds call home have been cleared. Combine that with the introduction of predator mammals who have not trouble finding and eating the Kakas’ eggs, and it’s a small miracle that any of the birds are left.

Kakas are about 18 inches long. They may look a bit ungainly, but they are very agile fliers, capable of weaving through trunks and branches, and can cover long distances, including over water. They get all their food from the trees, eating seeds, fruit, nectar, sap, honeydew and tree-dwelling—especially wood-boring—insects.

You’re likely to hear a Kaka before you see one. Like other parrots, they are not quiet birds. And like many other birds, their name seems to derive from their call: a harsh, repeated, rhythmic “ka-aa” when flying above the forest canopy.

Laughter?

Before I even knew what a kookaburra was, I knew the song with the lyrics, “Laugh, Kookaburra. Laugh Kookaburra.” I later found out the kookaburra was a bird and that its call sounded like laughter. Not so fast, my friend.

These two beauties were in the rain forest on Fraser Island. It’s almost as if they composed this shot themselves, just waiting for me to come by with my camera. But they didn’t make any noise, and it was another week or so before I heard what a kookaburra really sounds like.

We were staying at the edge of the Grampians National Park, named for the small mountain range in southwest Victoria it comprises. At dusk, from at least a hundred yards away, came an arrestingly loud sound that my wife and I at first thought must be monkeys having a fight. It was an “ooh ooh ooh aah aah aah” noise—the kind you might make if you were trying to imitate a chimpanzee’s vocalizations. We couldn’t see what was making the noise, even though it was so loud we thought it might be in a tree right outside of our cabin.

And that’s what kookaburras sound like. We heard them several more times, always in the early morning or at dusk. Laughter? That’s not how either of us would describe it.

Sure Sign of Spring

In honor of this first full day of Spring, here’s a bird that will soon be arriving in tree tops as far north as Canada. This is the Northern Parula, a warbler that doesn’t have that word in it’s name for some reason I can’t find.

This is perhaps my favorite picture from my trip to the Magee Marsh in northwest Ohio last May for the Biggest Week in American Birding. I like it so much because northern parulas are so difficult to capture in a photo. They spend most of their time high up in the canopy, eating insects and flitting about. Birders hear them more often than they get a good look at them.

The experts at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology say northern parulas have an odd break in their breeding range. They breed from Florida north to the boreal forest of Canada, but skip parts of Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, and some states in the Northeast. They think the reason for their absence may have to do with habitat loss and increasing air pollution, which affects the growth of moss on trees that they depend on for nesting.

However you’re spending this first full day of Spring—I plan to watch NCAA basketball all afternoon—keep this image with you to add a little extra beauty to your day!

Goodbye to Winter

Winter here in Atlanta officially ends today at 5:58 p.m. This is cause for celebration. To bid farewell to the drab, gray winter and warmly welcome the colorful spring, I give you the rainbow lorikeet.

If you’re visiting eastern or northern Australia, you do not have to search for rainbow lorikeets. I saw my first one in Sydney at a cafe near the Opera House. It was sitting on a table, hoping to pick up a scrap of food; the way you’d see a pigeon or sparrow hanging around an outdoor eatery in any big-city downtown area.

As to the bird in this photography, I saw him in downtown Adelaide. We had arrived in the late afternoon, and gone for a walk. A few blocks from our hotel, we were on a side street just off one of the main roads. The city had planted trees along the sidewalk on a few of the blocks. And in one of those trees were a half-dozen or so of these lorikeets, feeding on those fruits you see. I went back the next afternoon with my camera, and they were there again for the late afternoon meal.

They’re garrulous and noisy parrots, with a high-pitched call. Rainbow lorikeets are about 10 to 12 inches long and the sexes are identical.

May your spring be as beautiful and colorful as this!

Saved from Extinction

This bird is lucky to be alive. We, meaning humans, almost caused its specie’s extinction. This is the North Island Saddleback. The rust-colored patches on both sides of its back are the reason for the name. The red wattles just below its beak tell you the saddleback is part of the wattlebird family.

Before the arrival of humans, North Island saddlebacks were widespread on mainland North Island. But a combination of deforestation and introduced mammalian predators decimated these populations, and by the 1890's, the mainland population was eliminated. The remaining North Island saddlebacks were only found on Hen Island, a small island off the coast of Northland.

A translocation program began in 1964, moving saddlebacks to areas protected from predators. One such area is Tiritiri Matangi Island, where I took this photo. The last census for North Island saddlebacks estimated the population at about seven thousand.

The North Island saddleback has a nearly identical South Island sibling. But their ranges don’t overlap. The South Island saddleback was also almost wiped out by the introduction of rats that came to New Zealand as stowaways on ships. The translocation effort that began in 1964 on the North Island also took place on the South Island, and saved this species, as well.

Red Wattlebird

This is the second-largest member of the Australian honeyeater family, the red wattlebird. You can see the red wattles beneath its face that give this birds its name.

You will find these birds in southeast Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia and southwest Western Australia in open forests and woodlands. It’s a common visitor to urban gardens and parks. Red wattlebirds are loud and easy to spot. I was trying to get a good photo of another bird in this tree when this bird flew in for a snack, chasing the other bird away.

The red wattlebird is about 14 inches long and is one of the largest nectar-feeding birds in the world. This one was enjoying what it could get from the flowers on this tree. It was kind enough to pause for a moment, allowing me to get this shot of him or her (sexes are similar, so I have no way of knowing which it is) framed by the beautiful flowers and fruits of this tree, the name of which I have forgotten.

A more common cousin

Yesterday, I wrote about the beautiful but critically endangered Regent Honeyeater. Today, we have one of his much more common cousins, the White-cheeked Honeyeater.

Like all honeyeaters, this one feeds mainly on nectar. It’s bright yellow patch and loud, clear whistle are seen and heard all over eastern Australia, and in the southwest corner of the country, as well. I took this photo on Fraser Island (which is an ecological marvel itself; worthy of inclusion on any itinerary!)

As I wrote yesterday, there are 187 species of honeyeaters. They all live in Australia and other islands in the southwest Pacific. But they’re not all called honeyeaters. And next time, I’ll show you a member of the family named for one of its peculiar physical characteristics.