Planet Rothschildi

[Tame Emu Guy]

[S.E. dressed like Michelin Man, binos and hankie in left, tin mug with teaspoons of brown sugar and a half a nip of rum in right, half a lemon clamped in teeth.]

As fast as I can type, dawn plus

It’s on for young and old, I guess six or eight adult bird
Sounds like frog swamp with volume turned up, males and perhaps three females calling loud and continuoously
Alpha sneaking about in foreground
Saw, ef I think, at full ruff whirling from slashing at one female to confronting another,
Dark streaks of birds hammering in retreat along the aisles
Whole conflict ‘drifting’ north east through gums, one lone unidentified female standing stock still by tree
Report later, back to bunker

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Glimpses and Slivers
Post this draft:

Felicity is here!! Can’t identify a consort. She’s not dominant, though observations are poor and minimal.
Although the birds do ignore you much more than usual While All This Is Going On – more on their minds, you might say – the observer must still sit quietly, apart from wiping the mist of his sweetrumlemontea off the binos with a hankie. So, these reports are fragmentary in every sense (but S.E. is ecstatic ‘cause we know that no where in the world is anyone reporting this live to all seven people who care):

It seems to have the nature of a series of concentric circles, like a target, with the fig tree as the bulls eye. Phalanxes or schmoozes of birds approach (they’re different things). They don’t seem to co-ordinate . . . but perhaps, yah, a little – they do seem to come and go almost in ‘waves’ rather than in dribs and drabs.
Note: identifiying the birds is a snip when things are quiet, and you are ‘current’ with the bird – you’ve been observing it recently. S.E. has admit a failing in that he hasn’t kept a sort of ‘stud book’ with identifying marks.
So, at this time of year – especially with so many and so many new birds – identifying them takes longer. But but but the harder thing is that the moment a bird moves, it’s almost impossible to identify from that moment. Here is the primary different between a formal observation out the back at this time of year, and Supreme Emu crashing (quetly) about, trying to locate socks and beanies and hankies and binos and and and; and then sleazing out to a spot from which to watch. It’s the sound of advanced emu conflict that draws him out, by which time . . .
The birds are all in motion . . .


Anyway, it seems that:
Some group of interlopers makes a somewhat concerted approach to the tree while Dominant Bird Plus (in this case, Extra Female, Audacious (not her consort -- ???) and Alpha Chick, if it’s lucky) is ‘holding ground.’
Next . . . not sure: what I have seen over years, guys, is that the Dominant either waits, or moves assertively towards the interlopers. Don’t know the significance of this. I’ve seen Dominants move forty or fifty yards to meet ‘incomings,’ and sort of ‘bounce them’ off, following up with an ‘escort’ outa town. The escorts may be 150 yards. (Hmmm . . . when it’s quieter, and fewer birds). Conversely, Dominant stands its ground; the dominant interloper squares off; micro-secondous conflict follows; the loser breaks and flees.

‘Cascade’: then, if there are numerous birds, a sort of ‘cascade thing’ follows: after Bird One swipes Bird Two, Bird Two attacks Bird Three (or couple. Couples may not fight together, but they flee together. They who learn to flee today, live to flee another day!)
Bird Three harasses . . . who squabbles with . . .
Most of these ‘secondaries’ are symbolic, not involving ‘squarings off.’
This morning’s version, which is a two-or-three-times-a-year thing only, hence my concern to convey details to you, is a bit ‘hotter.’ Here’s one ‘sliver’:
S.E. gets a one-minute view of birds calling and squaring off and breaking away and fleeing from one side of the carport, then flits to the other side of the carport, where there’s a block-of-stovewood stool in place. It provides a 50-degree vector on the west of the fig tree:
Bird flees wildly east to west, head down, tail up
Second bird passes e. to w. also, moving fast, but with fleeting pretensions of being a player, in the form of a bit of crab walk and ruff.
Alpha Chick zips across stage.
[A.C. continues to impress. Don’t be surprised if he turns up in five years as the despot of a small African nation.]
Lastly, a bird that’s clearly lost a round, but still in the game: it’s 75% ruffed, and – I can’t believe I’m about to type this – moving east to west in retreat while strutting sideways west to east.

A Whole Second Round ensued after I posted the text above. S.E. got a glimpse from the east of the carport, and one from the west. The fracas that I heard first had flared up again – flared right up – and the crash-and-frog-swamp madhouse had see-sawed its way from north east of the fig, across the bottom of the clearing, and on to the west.

Then, finally, the noise stops, and,

Back at the fit . . .

With not another bird with sight or sound . . .

Audacious is stuffing himself with figs

[I can hear it cranking up again, but I gotta get back to the bunker}

se

 

[kbgh]

Sure sounds like tempers are starting to flare and persoanalities really showing up.

Amazing you can observe so much from your nest S.E.

Kinda sounds like a three ring circus in the house clearing.

Many smoke screens, but not a lot of damage?

When it all shakes out, who is the Alpha bird? The one who gets the figs, one eye Audacious. I sure hope the mysterery female is his consort. With his prowess and cunning, the chicks should be amazing.

As usual great observations S.E., THANKS

Kerry

 

[yinepu]

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

[Scrambled eggs out o’ the pot. Cup of sweet tea with lemon. Wash the dishes in the sink. Gotta take advantage of the warmer daylight hours.]

We could almost each adopt a bird as a mascot. K.B. seems to favour Audacious. S.E. favours Felicity (who just came for a feed, double-ration and sultanas – gotta keep her strength up!). Kathyinmo made a wager with S.E. on house-clearing supremacy some time ago . . . and S.E. lost. And I bet we could get paying customers if we set-up Alpha-cam.

Audacious and E.F. have, quite seriously, folks, a similar power discourse to a long-time unhappily married couple:
they share the same space, but they are clearly grumpy with one another, and they lack the exquisite ‘co-movement’ of some breeding-pairs.

It’s no use my saying, ‘When we can manage blah blah blah.’ Probly en gonn happen; but . . . any emu-lover would have been thrilled – I was – at the very first sight of Dark Couple: they came out of the gums, matched in size and colour, striding almost flank to flank, into the fray.

Meanwhile, Audacious and E.F. repeatedly turn out to be the only two birds at the tree. Their body language is ‘unhappy’; but . . . there they are. In fact, just now, they ventured together into the house-clearing, to feed (cropping, guys; not pecking). Same dynamic: they aren’t a unit; but they are moving in (unhappy) unison.

When I saw them up in front of the house, my first thought was the games of hide-and-seek we played at primary school. ‘Home base’ was the ‘whippy post,’ I recall; and if you were ‘catcher,’ but got too far from the whippy, kids could dash from cover and run safely home.

So, when I saw A and E.F. fifty yards from the whippy post, I had a sharp image of one of the other emus sprinting in from the gums, flinging its little vestigials into the air in triumph, and shouting, ‘Home safe!!’

Seriously, though, we note that – although, yes, the dominant birds are getting plenty of figs – this is the first general grazing we’ve seen any players involved in. Surely it would make sense if non-dominant birds were grazing on the sweet fresh pick over behind the GP shed.


'Kay, Kampers, we have uploads. Here is the Emerald Isle beneath the apricot tree:




It would be instructive to be able to get a bird’s-eye view of the goings-on, say, 500 yards square around the fig, filmed for an hour. If we then deleted everything except the whippy post and the players, we’d get a bit of data of Ph. D. quality, to wit, a precise diagram of the reiteration of the pecking-order. Each and every time these birds clash – in the wild, guys, where there’s a profusion of birds – it ain’t necessarily so that the pecking-order will be the same at the end of that round – a lesson Eric learned the day Foreign Bird whupped him.

My primary interest in such a project would be to see if the degree to which the breeding-pairs co-manoeuvre to their own advantage.

S.E.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

as fast as I can type, with molto photos:

This is the scene of the crime, readers: the fig trees (one behind the other) are the highlight of my New Garden:




There's a prize for anyone who can guess which rusting thing is the oven door of a 'Metters Improved No. 2 Stove.'

Here below is the 'vector' to the west of the figs. The bird is Audacious, snuck up to tax some Yummies I put out for Felicity. Note the 'lilly pilly,' a native that bears a bzillionty little red berries during late autumn. Wild-wild birds dare to come this far 'cause they love the berries. This is one of the 'impromptu hides' -- a block of stovewood and S.E. sticks his nose around the corner -- that serves us at this time of year. As I've noted: slivers and sections:



SE

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

No emus here yesterday from noon to dusk – alpha doesn’t count. Walked right down to the corridor, neither sight nor sound.

[Audacious and E.F., the Odd Couple, are grumping at one another as usual. Audacious is gurk-gurk-gurking at her.]

Got a great datum on blessings though, which I’ll post later.

So, lack of birds is a datum. In one day, two lots of birds – or three?? – Dark Couple, and Felicity Plus, and the Odd Couple, have all moved from one pasture to another.

The Odd Couple: gee, I don’t know. Audacious and E.F. seem not to be an item, so we must try to comprehend how a Dominant like E.F. tolerates Audacious. Is it that E.F. is stymied by Audacious’s style? Which seems to be: run away when challenged, then come straight back. S.E. has never seen two theoretically-hostile birds spend so much time in proximity. If, for example, Greedy were in E.F.’s place, she’d flog him off her territory. I have mentioned before the seemingly illogical expenditure of energy that I observe the wild birds have to show their dominance.

On his part, Audacious has conformed to the first wild guesses that we made about his character. Perhaps, indeed, his disability provides that he ignore the usual rules of emu life: he has no ‘pride,’ can’t afford it. He runs away; he come back. He chooses not to get the message. Bravo, Audacious!

[General bird-lover snippet: S.E. has noted that kookaburras are plentiful but cautious – it’s easy to see one, but not at all easy to see one up close. Well, they sometimes alight in groups of three or four, and call – ‘laugh’ – uproariously for a minute . . . then leave. Well, just a few minutes ago, four kookaburras alighted on a gum on the edge of the clearing, a gum in sight of the keyboard.
What a racket!! Certainly audible for a mile. Completely drowns out all other bird song. Wonderful!]

Here below is a photo for which I beg your indulgence. [God!! The sun is out!!] To see a bird on its belly is a fine thing for me. You need to appreciate this. Photographing a bird on its belly is just hard work. The moment a person comes into sight, the bird is up. I crawled behind the couch and in under my desk to get this shot, which I love: only a happy happy wild emu sits on its belly in a human's backyard!!:



Blast, guys! I've made a blue: there are wild birds here, which I just discovered by blundering outside. So, I'll shut down for a while (while the sun is out), and sneak to Hide Number Two, which is cleverly disguised as another block of stovewood over by the lilly pilly tree -- different vector. There's a pair of wild birds approaching from the north.

se

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

With a jacket over his head, sir?

And a lemon in his mouth?


Binoculars held sideways, you say?


Ahhh! Okay – we’ll send a Psychiatric Emergency Team right on over!

Here's the hide:



In all seriosness, guys:
note the dark colours in the close-up. I am getting good at 'uni-ocular' with the binos -- hence sideways, and have learned to adjust the focus with one finger. The 'lilly pilly tree hide' gives a different view, down the 'approach track,' and more of 'behind the fig.'

Here's what you see:






SE

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

By the time Alpha is this close, readers, you can -- with the binos -- count his eyelashes. He knows I'm there, but doesn't care.
Don't misunderstand me: Alpha Chick is a fly in the Project's ointment, so we aren't gonna feed him. Otherwise, he's gorgeous, and getting to observe a savvy wild orphan chick from close range and at length is most enjoyable. It really does have a lot of personality. In this shot, Alpha is quietly exiting stage left -- the wild birds are audible down the back, and Alpha is getting out of the way. If we had footage of his behaviour -- lifting his head, craning his neck to look back to the north -- that would be quite clear to you.

[There is a pair of wild birds down the back, but I want to get these photos posted, and return to the bunker.]

It’s a weird autumn, citizens! March is sometimes the hottest month of ‘summer,’ but today is the eighth day of cool overcast weather. The figs are gonna cut out early. The back tree is down to three or four days. (Brilliant figs they are, a legacy of an almost-pioneer-era farmhouse-wife who developed an orchard over three decades. The day Blu-Gum Corp arrived, they bulldozed it. Twelve trees survived. This whole project, readers, is a strange vestige of this history. No fruit trees, no Planet Rothschildi!!)

Watching E.F. score figs is good fun. I’ve never seen a bird do it like her:

she punches her way into the tree – all the way into it. For as long as a minute, what you see is . . . nothing much. The tips of her toosh feathers may be visible about two feet of the ground, and you’ll see flashes of the silvery skin on her neck.
Otherwise, what you see is chunks of fig tree thrashing around as though they were being mauled by a shark. This morning, she actually managed to turn completely around in there somehow, and – I was watching through the binos – emerged head first. I can only say it again, these birds love this fruit. I’ve seen Felicity practically entwine herself in the lower boughs, high-steppin in slow motion to get right in there (she grew up under these same branches, and used to hide from Eric there when he chased her).

se

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

[Great noisy squadron of Muirs Corellas coming over the house.]

‘Kay, now something a little more serious, Cadet Observers:
Have a look at the two photos below. I’ll meet you on the far side:










have