The locals

The dawn chorus here is deafening. Somewhere around five in the morning there is an abrupt escalation of the night-long chirrups and churrups, into a positively ear-bending racket.

(apologies for the 'borrowed' images...bird photography turns out to be a dark art, and is one that I will almost certainly never master)

So here's a run-down of the primary offenders:

First up are the very large, glossy, healthy looking Australian Ravens. They don't offer much in the looks or song department - black, loud cawing - but they are a firm fixture.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_raven

Sometimes there are Currawongs as well, they look similar to the raven but have a distinctive yellow eye, and an easily identified rather more complex call than the Ravens -  more likely to hear them than see them.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Currawong

This little fella is a Noisy Miner. There are lots of them, and they really are properly noisy. They hurl about in gangs and make tons of noise all day long. They're a kind of honey-eater, and notoriously territorial and fierce - not unlike the robin I guess, but the large numbers and boisterous behaviour reminds me more of starlings.

Despite their healthy contribution to the general and perpetual racket, I like these guys. They're really cheeky and they like to take a cooling dip in the swimming pool.

http://gretavanderrol.net/tag/swimming-pool/

I have tried and tried to get my own picture but they're just too quick for my camera (and my aging reflexes). It is very amusing to watch them do this - they fluff out their body feathers just before they hit the water and it always looks like they'll sink, but they never do.

I watched a large flock of Noisy Miners really gang up on a cat on the balcony below ours - they all gathered in the nearest tree and squawked and screeched at the cat for five full minutes (cat was entirely unmoved of course).


I thought these guys (below) were butcher birds but apparently they're actually magpies - they are in the same family so the mistake is easy to make. You see a lot of these. They will imitate other bird calls and songs with amazing accuracy, and sometimes even other sounds like dogs barking and machinery.

This here is the butcher bird, so called because they will store food - insects or small lizards - by impaling it on a thorn or stuffing it into some handy crevice. This is to hold the catch while the bird eats, or quite literally as a larder, and to attract a mate. You can see the little hook on the beak, which is how you know it's a butcher bird not a magpie.

These guys have a really complex and fascinating song, full of whistles and whoops and bubbling trills.

And here are the colourful and exuberant rainbow lorikeets. They're so jolly looking - and apparently utterly unable to fly any where without screeching their heads off as if they're in some great panic.

Of course I can't forget the much maligned Ibis, who are just everywhere; the Gold Coast equivalent of pigeon if you like. While they cut a pretty exotic looking figure, they are also faintly vulture-like, which is not necessarily particularly appealing once you've noticed it.

They are arch scavengers which is why (after some ill-judge breeding programmes back in the 1960s) they have thrived in an urban environment, and are now regarded as pests. They can get very bold, not unlike cheeky sea-gulls who will snatch your sarnie out of you hand, and as they are pretty large - much bigger than a large sea-gull - they can even be a touch intimidating 

So - that about covers the usual suspects. 

Now I know they're not birds but I've grown very attached to the flying foxes who swoop around as the sun goes down. It's wonderful and astonishing, as they really are big and rather stately as they whoosh past with a rather lazy flap, or land in the nearby trees with a great gallolloping, branch bending, foliage thwacking whump. And they do contribute significantly to the noise levels, so here's just one more picture...

A walk in the park

There's a pretty little park at the end of our road. It has a river frontage, great play spaces for kids, well maintained and shaded picnic spots, and lots of lovely shady trees. And there's a long stretch of managed sub-tropical 'rainforest' you can walk through.

...which turns out to be where the flying foxes hang out during the day.

'But then there is the noise and the smell...'

Actually, the smell isn't all that bad. 

But the noise is really something. Apologies for the clumsy link, my tech capabilities are pretty limited.

This is what the flying fox colony sounds like....

I've tried to get a decent picture of the foxes but they roost way up high, fanning themselves with their huge leathery wings and squabbling - you can just about see a few in the next picture, top right-ish.

And look who was hanging out there too...down in the nice cool shade, keeping it real...Mr Kookaburra. 

His funny 'Muttley' style chuckle is somewhere on the soundtrack, but it's a surprisingly low sound so good luck if you can pick it out. I was really close to him - them actually, as they go around in family gangs - but he just wasn't noisy enough to compete with the racket being made by every thing else. 

I like these fellas, they're sort of thuggish looking. Like a bird version of a staffy. No neck and a slightly surly 'don't even thinkaboudit' slope to the shoulders. He was fluffing himself up in what seemed like irritation; they're quite big, roughly pigeon sized, and they don't seem to scare easy either. I got the message and moved along.

To this.

As uncompromisingly urban as you like and not five minutes from the fox colony. Bonkers. More commonly known as Broadbeach. I always thought that the Gold Coast was a suburb of Brisbane, but apparently it's a city in it's own right. Who knew? Anyway (and to continue the theme of startling environmental juxtaposition), just behind that lot is this...

There's the QT building with it's lightening rod top. I'm no fan of this kind of urban sprawl - but I was more than glad of it today. I have a very poor internal compass, and without that building I might have trudged a long long way down the long long beach in entirely the wrong direction...

Not so bad you might think, but it was seriously hot and there's no shelter on the beach, so unless you're a really determined sun-worshipper (or surfer) then you don't want to be spending too much time out there, not even if you're fully armed with sunblock, wide-brimmed hat and shades.

Sorry, it really is simply too hot to knit.