Welcome to Mars

I started writing when I started my PhD project. I had no intent on seeing this published until I was done my PhD, but others have convinced me that this super cool system (Apostlebirds) in the Outback (Fowlers Gap) should be shared with others, especially others that may not be so inclined to expose themselves continually to the hot, the dry, the fluctuating temperatures, the computer analyses, the degrees, the movement away from material luxury, etc, etc, that is part of the path towards becoming a wildlife biologist/ecologist who works in the field. But this is so worth it to me. 100 times over. I love this life, the birds, the challenge, the outdoors, and though I don't like to admit it- the computer stuff too, even the genetics (no thanks to undergrad genetics that SUCKED and was NOT taught in a welcoming manner), and thanks to people who actually show me what a powerful tool it can be.

So, some of my posts (like this one) is from my first field season (Aug-Dec 2010).

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Welcome to Mars

The first time I saw Fowlers Gap, I saw little green men with strange laser guns. Well, not literally, but I might as well have, as the land was barren and red, dusty and dry. Yet, I felt a strange sense of beauty as I watched the land pass from the Rover as we bumped along the dusty road. We pass a couple emus and they shy away as my heart jumps a notch towards excitement. The contrast of the bright blue sky against red soil is striking and the expanse of the heavens above is interrupted only by the circling of wedge tail eagles in quiet flight.

The chatter of my car mates becomes a background hum as I stare through the dust clouded backseat window. I stare off towards the horizon, far,far away. I can imagine myself riding an emu off into the never never lands. No, that is not a good image, actually. I can now see myself being unceremoniously dumped off the emus back, stepped on, pecked, pecked again on the face, oh, here comes the spit and away they go. Whoo! Not good. I get up and turn circles, and hey, what a surprise 360 degree circle and everything looks the same to me, except that small bush on the horizon.

I snap back to my reality and notice that the Rover has stopped and my advisor and his colleagues are pointing excitedly. I fall out of the car with binoculars and desperately try to see what they are looking at. “Yes yes, I see it”, I say as I focus my lenses at nothing, “beautiful, beautiful” and suddenly there she is, a wedgetail perched on a dead tree, serene as the queen of the bush. We all stand around examining the land with nodding heads. I, myself am nodding at rocks, rocks, rocks. I wonder what everyone else is nodding at. And hope it does not have something to do with planning my initiation into academia. Someone says “rather dusty”.

We jump back into the car, and to make up for the settling of dust, we leave a cloud of red behind us. We wind through a few small hills, rocks and more rocks. I can’t help but notice the number of dry stream beds we cross. Many are marked as “Flood plain” and come equipped with a 2 meter tall flood marker. I instantly think of a yellow picture with a stylized picture of waves and a man with one arm waving for help. If I had not already been familiar with flash floods I would have thought the Aussie government was playing a grand joke on me, for there is not a drop of water to be seen.

If I ever thought we had moved away from all form of water, I was wrong as we round the bend and lo and behold a lake. Or, at least a clustering of trees, trees, and bushes and I am told that this is “the Lake”. Later, in a scouting trip I discover that the lake is more of a pond which runs in fingerlets out along flood streams, and a haven for many species of birds, including some ducks and shorebirds.

You can imagine my surprise when I returned four months later to assist with a field course. The arid zone had bloomed and what was once red dirt was now covered with many shrubs, bushes and a plague of locusts. The birds were flying about eating their fill, and everywhere we stepped, we were greeted with a cloud of locusts fleeing are flattening foot.

My welcome to Fowlers Gap

Jan 2010- arid

Jan 2010- Mars Scape

The Lakeland Winter Clan- 22 birds and a whole lot of trouble

I am enjoying a “day off” so to speak. Day off in that I am not in the field, but “day off” because I am in fact taking the time to do all the piddly things such as e-mail updates to my supervisors, finishing arranging files and uploading them to a network, clean gear, update data files and now a little time to write.

It is actually a fact that I would rather be in the field recording the birds, but I am so tired because a couple nights ago, the mice plague gang ran across my head, my pillow, and my bed all through the night. They were having a ball, that is until I got up and stole the snap traps from the kitchen, emptied out the mice occupying them and set them around by bed. So they themselves went to bed, taking care to not set the traps and left me bleary eyed at pre-dawn tramping across the outback to greet my apostlebirds with bread for breakfast.

The Lakeland Clan were all too happy to see me, and came down to present their colour banded legs and all call at once in disharmony to the eight screeching fledglings. EIGHT extra hungry SCREECHY birds on sleep deprived headache. They are lucky they are so cute and fuzzy or I may have gotten angry and refused them more bread. But try as they might to make my head explode, their side cocked fuzzy heads with upward gaze was enough to keep my head intact. So feed them I did, until the constant cacophony of calls tamed down to a string of calls, some overlapping, some single and clear, and then, and only then could I record some clear calls.

Throughout the day, the clan moved up and down the creek (but different sides, different feeding grounds). I was lucky that despite all the movement on a day where I may have liked some more stability that they chose scenic locations by the White shouldered kite and her fledgling. She is one gorgeous bird! And even though her profile soaring in the morning sky caused the apostlebirds to alarm call and dive for cover, she showed no interest in the apostlebirds themselves. She soared in circles, returning to her child, and as she approached the youngster, I could hear these high pitch pick calls increasing in frequency. Pic……………….Pic………………….Pic………..…Pic………. Pic……..Pic…….Pic….Pic…Pic..Pic..Pic..Pic..PicPicPicPicPicPic. The call? Her call or her fledgling, I don’t know as they were high in trees, but it sounded cool. She also would do these food transfers in the arm and would dive up and down in the distant sky, which provided great entertainment while my otherwise chatty birds, with tummies full of bread and insects would sit preening in the sun.

The harmony of fluffy birds in the sun, beauty in the sky, azure horizon, red soil and marching ants was soon broken by the arrival of a Sparrowhawk. Woosh……….. into the apostlebird tree! Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, and scatter in the trees. Picau picau picau, wings all over and jumping in branches and then the hawk is gone. I count my birds. I can’t see them all. I start to feel a lump in my throat. Did I see her leave with a bird! Did I! Did I!

“Krich?”” Krich, Krich?” Here comes a few juveniles. “Da dee doo, Da Dee do”. A few adults . The Lakeland clan slowly emerge from the trees and gather in front of me. Where was their reward? Their bread? Surely, that feat of predator avoidance warranted more bread? Extra bread?

I count them all twice, three times, and yes, all birds are there. I breathe a sigh of relief, but the birds are impatient. Life is short, you eat, you chat and then a hawk comes, and they want to get to the eating part now. I catch a fledgling tugging on my recording bag, another fuzzy one examining my lunch box, and a few on the ground pecking at crumbs. “All right, all right, you crazy birds, have some more bread, but I want you to call for the mike”. I shouldn’t have asked, because they burst into a flurry of calls, fights, jumps and it is another 8 minutes before they settle down into steady calls and normal food seeking behaviour.

And that is basically how my days go. Happy chatty birds clamoring for food, settling down, followed by natural food seeking, then visits by small number of birds that I surreptitiously feed so they will stick around and call without the attention of more birds that would come and make a fuss and render all hope of single clear calls impossible. Then the group follows, I follow at a distance, and we repeat all over again, and again, and again. Always with more beauty of nature and apostlebird antics.

Now you can see why I take so little “days off”. No point. Day off are computer days, tired days to recuperate from physical tiredness and blisters. Days to write (yay), days to maybe bake some cookies (yum), do laundry ( no more stink), claen mouse poo off (actually that is everyday, twice a day) and visit with the Cottager Clan (the station apostlebird residents). Days to sometimes read a book , maybe. Aaahh… my birds await.

Lakeland Clan fledglings

Hello? Does bread come from here too?

Introducing the Apostlebirds

First things first! The birds! These chatty birds are socially living cooperative breeders, which means that they live in social groups all year round, and when it comes to breeding, a single breeding pair mates and lays eggs, and then they, as well as numerous "helpers" raise the young. The helpers are often offspring of the breeding pair, but can also be unrelated.

The breeding pair, as well as the helpers build the nest together. First they gather mud and build up a base,then they shape the cup and add in the grass and finally they line the nest with grass and feathers. But not without a whole lot of drama, discussions, screaming and the occasional fight. Building this nest seems to be a big deal and everybird want to contribute. Sometimes a bird is shoved aside whilst his beak is still full of mud, and sometimes he shoves back in. If he gets angry enough he will spill his mud Aesop's Fable style as he opens his beak to protest. Sometimes, somebirdy want to join the mud nest building festivities and is chased off, sometimes somebirdy leaves the whole scene and joins another group. It is an excitable time.

When it comes to egg laying, the social group (breeding pair and helpers) appear to have settled down. Again, everybird helps incubate the nest, and care of the nest is so important that negotiations still occur at the nest. The conversation goes like this: "mm mmm mmm mmm mmmm" " ee ee ee ee ee ee" "mee mee mee mee" " da dee do, da dee do AA AA AA AA AA AA, AU AU AU EEUU EEUU"

Rough transation: "get off, get off, get off, get off" " mine mine mine mine"" GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF" " not happy, not happy, somebirdy taking over nest, where are you? where are you? (this is as the bird leaves the nest and flies to join the rest of the group).

Sometimes, the bird on the nest wants to get off. Maybe he or she is hungry, or maybe has a sore bum, or maybe tired of watching the local entertainment (Biologist Bloopers, Emu Entertainment, Sheep Show or Krazy Kangaroos). He or she wants to leave, so she sends out a call for replacement. Because she is transmitting over a large distance and sometimes in windy conditions she is already calling very loud. So what is a bird to do if she really want to get off now rather that sending a more polite "will someone please"? Well, she can call "eeuu" (rough translation:soon good)," eeuee" ( want off now), "eeueeuu" (going to leave soon!). But again, the nest is so important that it is rare that I see a bird just up and leave the nest. But, I have listened (and recorded) many a bird calling " eeuee" bouts again and again.

Then, one day, an egg hatches and out appears a baby! The next day another baby, and the next day a third, and sometimes more! Oh, babies the places you will go! (if you survive), so diligently our proud parents and their helpers feed, preen, warm and primp the babies, carrying away (or eating!) their poo, and day by day the chicks grow and grow and beg and beg and get very very fussed over! And throughout this chick care the birds continue to have their nest conversations. Yes, they still have this drive to screech and call and generally make a production of the swapping of nest duties. Doesn't seem so smart, does it? Yes, let's advertise the presence of the nest to potential predators? There must be a good reason for all this conversation.And let me emphasize to you that this chatty behaviour is not confined to the nest. No sir, not these birds. Chat chat chat, while foraging, chat chat chat, while preening, chat chat chat, while flying, CHAT CHAT CHAT DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA MAKEUP MAKEUP MAKEUP. Who needs soap operas when you have these birds? And this is where your truly, PhD student biologist comes in! So many chatty birds and conversations to fill my thesis, so much to understand.

So now, I have given you a good overview of their chit chat. Have a look at the video once more and this time, oh can you see the possibilites! These birds will steal your hearts.

New Blog

Well here it is. After a year and a half of working on these fantastic group of birds, I am creating a blog. This blog serves to tell you about some of the amazing, amusing, saddening, joyful things that happen to the apostlebirds living at my field site in the Australian Outback. My field site is in New South Wales, and I am a PhD student enjoying learning all about these birds while building skills to become what I hope will be considered a strong researcher. Included with these stories are my personal stories of becoming a field biologist. Please enjoy, and keep in mind that this blog is all about my reflections, my creative outputs and my not so scientific anthropomorphic musing. My science and my publications as they appear are on my personal website, which will be posted at a later date.

So for now, let the chatty birds guide my stories!