Planet Rothschildi

Bits and Pieces:

Hi, E.H. I neglected to reply to a post of yours. ‘Over grooming’? Nice turn of phrase, and I don’t think your notion is silly. I have long thought that sometimes grooming has a social function not an actual-scratching function.

After re-reading what I wrote about Eric winding up in submission, I went and checked under the apricot tree. There was a goodly spray of emu feathers. I bet they are Eric’s, knocked off by Foreign Bird. This would explain Eric’s later behaviour.

One of my usual tasks allows me to detour home through The 500. No binos. Just the walk.
It’s fun, but no matter how slowly and quietly a human walks, there is no ‘leverage’ to be had over the critters until she sits and listens.


We walked through today, to check the state of the pastures. Supreme Emu clearly has everything still to learn about how pastures come ‘on line’ and ‘off line’ for the birds according to rain or lack thereof.

He has been too clumsy in seeing an area of grass as ‘brown’ and ‘dead.’ Certainly, The 500 has dried a lot since the recent rains.
(It’s amazing, readers, how different the ground feels under your feet after just three or four days of drizzle. It yields to your steps; it’s quieter to walk on; green pick is visible. Even the colour seems to change to a gentler, ‘more pastel,’ colour.)


However, when S.E. actually stopped and got on his knees and did his homework, he saw that there is still ‘green’ in that brown. Some, as I’ve noted above, is un-Yummy weeds; but some is Yummy. Perhaps in every three-yard-square area there is a lovely little three-inch-high grass plant.

But not at Meadow Two. It really seems to have been knocked right off line: I couldn’t easily find a single fresh blessing.

[None of the projects underway are forgotten. S.E.’s just been having a rest. We shall go on at least two more jaunts to check things ‘down the back’ here. The 500 and Meadow Two are just north of the dividing line, so today’s observation is tied up with the ones we shall make down the back.]

S.E.
 
Morning, Ashburnham. You and I are the only ones enjoying summer today.

Morning, all!

Surprisingly quiet in recent days. Eric Plus has had the place to itself again. I saw them having a poke at the fig tree yesterday.

No more of that female’s pre-dawn vocalisations either.

We are having our first ‘real’ summer weather. However, considering it’s Christmas, it hasn’t been really hot yet. (It’ll be over a hundred in Perth today, and a hundred and five on the coast up north.)

Supreme Emu
 




Today I went on the long-awaited excursion to Byenup Lagoon. It wasn’t really a success – but we got some photos, so it wasn’t really a failure.

We are most fortunate to have our own miniature wetland here, but today we reached the edge of a massive wetland system.





Now recall our trips to the section of National Park directly behind Oudman’s. It is far from optimal territory for emus. I said that we would patiently look for examples of better emu territory – more open, permanent water, plentiful and varied food. The area we visited today is about five miles west of Oudman’s; and – although we need to get in there and have a look at it – it’s clearly getting close to the mark.

[So, here in brackets, guys:


We have worked our way along about a ten-mile strip of National Park (south of the highway). Luckily, it has given us a glimpse of quite different terrains. From east to west: Stinky Creek (‘real’ pasture/cut-gums pasture/starvation scrub); ‘back of Oudman’s’ (cut-gums pasture/starvation scrub); Pinticup (starvation scrub); Lake Muir Wetland (fabulous, but some uncrossable fences).]



Look at the photo at the top of the page, and mentally delete the fence posts. This miniature dam is human-made, but is now marooned in the National Park. There was an emu footprint on its edge.


At this point, we’d already passed our first area of the swamp, pictured below. All the mid-foreground area is ‘lesser’ reed swamp. The dead-but-standing trees on the perimeter are a give-away from a distance. (One of my frustrations, guys, has been that I haven’t been able to get close-up photos of the brilliant wild flowers that often grow in these spots.) Check the foreground. You can see the type of reeds, and the kangaroo tracks running into it:







Here below is a shot taken a little further on. A reed swamp on a hot day smells like . . . a hot reed swamp! There was a range of bird life visible. A crane burst into flight from a patch of reeds right in front of me.

There were many tracks by the water, including those of two predator mammals that I didn't recognise. One water bird left tracks -- 'skinny' tracks -- almost as large as an emu's.





Here below are some of the brumby tracks there.






[It’s dusk here, loyal readers. Was at least 105 today.
But it’s the cool of dusk now. The air has both the scents of evening and the lingering pungency of the gum oil that is literally ‘lifted’ from the trees by the heat of the sun; the moon is up; and the raucous cries of the kookaburras are ringing around the house-clearing.]


Next: there are two things to note about the photo below.
The first is that it is the sort of ‘screen’ that so often outwits Supreme Emu. That is, we are moving, through scrub, toward an open area that we want to observe. (Meadow Two gives us the same trouble.) But you need to see the birds before they see you, so you have to scan and scan and scan through the binos as you move – but you are moving; and the birds are not. The odds are heavily in their favour.


The second thing is the flatness of the earth in the foreground. Now, if this were a part of the swamp that is underwater in winter, there’d be paperbarks there – and there are paperbarks, but they are a few yards closer to the swamp proper. This patch, though, is clearly on the fringe of the swamp, and sometimes underwater. It was getting late when we took this photo, and this whole area was quite cool and aromatic:



Hmmm . . . . teklikal . . . .
 
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Here below is the view toward the south:



At this point, readers, I knew it was a fizzer simply because – it isn’t apparent on the satellite photo – there is a point of high ground between the scrub and the dam. So, we scrubbed Mission One, and headed down to Byenup Lagoon. We saw a lone adolescent emu in the paddock we’d come to observe. It didn’t bolt until Supreme Emu got out and fired up the Trendy New Camera and whir whir what does this . . . ??


Here below are just two pictures of Byenup Lagoon. Supreme Emu can only offer his apologies. Circumstances were against us today. My point is that people are lined up to get onto this property. The owner is a mate of mine, but I feel it is unseemly to play my privilege card more than rarely.

Perhaps next summer . . .

To do the opportunity justice, guys, a team of us would move soundlessly down to the water’s edge before first light, and set up cameras and telescopes in a hide. The tourist attraction is Lake Muir (on the other side of the property. There’s a headland from which you can watch the sun go down over it.). However, as like as not, it will have no water in it the day you are there; but Byenup is perennial. A 92-year-old local guy assures me that, in the 1930’s, this body of water was home to almost incomprehensible densities of water birds:







S

Supreme Emu
 
Hey, All!

I always dress drably, Ashburnham, when I am out observing. If I seem wordy about the vigilance network thing, it's 'cause it is a Central Reality of It All. So, I assume that all life forms are on my case at all times.

S.E.
 

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