Supreme Emu joins Eric Plus
While walking, I fell in step down the back with Eric and the chicks, who, by the clay on their feet, had just drunk at the dam. So, I moseyed along. [Hot clear weather here, but autumn is in the air.]
We/they wandered down to the corridor, where, notwithstanding S.E.’s pronouncement that they’s no emoo food there, the chicks’ heads rose and fell relentlessly as they pecked at morsels.
Here’s a more formal report:
# this is the first time we’ve ever been close at length to a clutch grazing at length in the open. The house-clearing is big, but it’s not all pasture.
# the male exhibited an interesting combination of vigilance and relaxation. He lifted his head often, and took much longer looks about than a lone emu would. Conversely, at one point he was over fifty yards from the two chicks, who didn’t even lift their heads to check.
# No vocalisations. S.E. suspects it’s the ‘maze nature’ of the house-clearing, whereby Eric and the chicks get separated by fences, etc., that most often elicits calls. The corridor, though, is large and open (though dotted with large clumps of reeds), so that ‘comfortable line of sight’ is always there.
# Notwithstanding that the corridor is 500 by 150 yards, all of which the three birds were free to roam over, they grazed in a surprisingly small area – quite obviously where the Yummy stuff was. For example, when they moved onto the pasture, they went about fifty yards, and then spent over a half an hour grazing on a patch only about 25 yards square. When they moved, they did so to another area of the pasture, where again they stayed and grazed for a long time in a small area. Someone can pop over and identify the species of grasses in the different patches, or I’ll do it after I get back from Lourdes.
# This observation (which involved S.E. lying at length in the sun, smelling the wonderfully strong wild mint) also gives us a good insight into a day’s movements: E.P. fed at dawn at the house; chased Felicity around; [blank bit for an hour]; seen coming, with clay on their feet, from the dam; spent at least an hour and a half at the corridor; [S.E. left]; turned back up at the house. Total = four hours.
# Now, S.E. was clearly wrong about the ‘on-line-ness’ of the corridor; but our observations about emu density are not affected that much. At times and places through the seasons, there are fresh blessings at ten-foot intervals in certain places, like the Top Corner in spring. S.E. did examine a number of pastures – Meadow One, Meadow Two, the corridor, the Nursery – and didn’t see a single even-recent blessing. So, certainly, the birds are ‘skating’ all over the place to scratch up a bit of food. [Hang in, guys, autumn rains are about six to eight weeks away.]
Nevertheless, S.E.’s ‘equation’ was wrong: if the corridor is being grazed upon, then it’s a good bet that birds are grazing on the others. This makes sense of the simple fact that Felicity and E.P. come and go during the day: they are grazing on other nearby pastures. Well, okay, that's fairly obvious; but it's the difference between conjecture and data.
Felicity has been away and come back in recent weeks; and she came back without Felix Emu, which is a real pity. Perhaps, guys . . . perhaps:
you see . . . we didn’t determine the age at which the male abandons the chicks. It was one piece of data that I really wanted to get. For example, it would tell us whether Eric is gonna head off from here, to seek a mate this year (i.e., abandons the chicks at seven months) or whether he will stay here, and continue to parent for months to come.
I think Felicity’s natural emu rhythm is out of whack. She was queen at the end of last winter. Perhaps she hopes that (a) Eric will leave, and (b) Greedy (who is bound to turn up, readers) will remain subservient. Thus, Felicity would command the house-clearing during autumn, and have a good chance to get a consort.
I’ll add here that, observations aside, it was most most enjoyable to watch the trio at length from a distance. They are so exquisitely in tune with their world: heads bob up and down in the sunshine; their camouflage is great; they can sit down and sun themselves at will; they can retire a hundred yards to roost; there’s water two hundred yards away; there are no fences to cross; there are few people-noises -- you can hear trucks on the highway if the wind is right). It could be a million years ago.
S.E. is working in the sun each morning to reduce his garden to a more manageable size, and that’s good and necessary; but he misses running for the binos every time Emu Drama breaks out.
S.E.
