Tawny Frogmouth keeps us awake
My wife and I are currently staying in Sydney with our son and his family. We are having great fun playing with our two grandchildren age 5 and 2.5. We will be here until Christmas.
Because of the configuration of the house, the spare bedroom is at the back of the house, next to some large bushes and near to some large street trees. Up until recent days the Laughing Kookaburras have woken us before 5am; one morning it was 4:33am. As first light filters through the trees the hundreds of locally resident Rainbow Lorikeets start up their screeching as they fly from tree to tree.
Because of those two noisy resident species we treasure every second of sleep we can get, especially when the grandchildren usually knock on our door well before 7am. So it was a little disconcerting to have a Tawny Frogmouth doing the overnight shift, calling just outside our bedroom window! Fortunately, the call was soft enough not to keep me awake.
Tawny Frogmouth, Adelaide Zoo
The nocturnal bird called the Tawny Frogmouth is one of my favourite birds. Ever since we saw one in a tree above our tent near Lake Hattah in north west Victoria many years ago, this species has had a special place in our lives.
Being nocturnal, it is not a bird seen all that often. It is more commonly heard calling at night. From time to time we have one in our garden. One has even banged against our sliding glass door whilst catching a moth fluttering there.
Finding them in broad daylight is a challenge. They are usually well camouflaged perched on the limb of a tree, their feathers blending in with the colours and markings of the branch. When smaller birds – such as honeyeaters – become aware of the presence of a frogmouth or an owl for that matter, they set up quite a fuss, drawing attention to the roosting bird.
The bird shown in today’s photos is a captive bird, part of the excellent collection of birds of the Adelaide Zoo in South Australia.
Last bird for 2012
Happy New Year to all my readers.
Didn’t get to go out to do any birding yesterday. I was too busy preparing for our New Year’s Eve celebrations. Not that we hold wild, unbridled parties – quite the opposite. We invited six close friends to join us for a barbecue and an evening of unbridled anecdotes, jokes, laughter, serious observations on life and plenty of food. It was low key, relaxed and relatively quiet.
Just before midnight we heard the unmistakable call of “our” Australian Owlet-nightjar in the trees in our garden. It was a wonderful ending to a low-key year of birding. The Owlet-nightjar has been a resident species in our garden for several years now. We don’t always hear it calling, especially when the television is on. Another highlight yesterday was the return of the two Superb Fairy-wrens to our garden; they’d been absent for a few weeks.
I didn’t get a photo of the Owlet-nightjar but I did manage one of this normally nocturnal species a few years ago. You can click here to see a photo.
Related articles:
Southern Boobook Owl
A few nights ago I was collecting our mail from the local post office at about 10:30pm (don’t ask why I was getting the mail so late at night – it’s another story). As I emerged from the car I was delighted to hear the distinctive call of a Boobook Owl nearby. The sound was probably coming from the trees near back of the Town Hall, or perhaps the nearby railway station. I didn’t have a torch with to track it down, nor did I have a camera with me, so I’ve used the photo of one I took in our garden a few months ago.
I guess I was a little surprised at first to hear an owl right there a few steps from the town’s CBD. When I thought about it the owl was probably resident in that area for a very good reason: food. Around the various shops and businesses and several schools within 500 metres, the pickings would have been good. Rats and mice abound in the area so it would probably not be going hungry. About ten years ago some students in the school in which I was teaching noticed one in the tree at the front of the school and pointed it out to me. Nice to know it’s surviving in this location.
Further reading:
Tawny Frogmouth, Innes National Park
The Tawny Frogmouth has a special place in our family folklore. Back in the mid 1980s we were camped in the Hattah-Kulkyne National Park in north west Victoria. We were right next to Lake Hattah, a lovely camping spot and place full of interesting birds. On this occasion we were disturbed around midnight by an “um-um-um-um” sound in the distance – or so we thought. Imaging the worst we feared someone had a portable generator, something forbidden in most Australian national parks. It really annoyed us.
Just as we were retiring the following night we heard the noise again. My attention was drawn to a dark shape in the tree just above our tent. Sitting there quite at home was our “generator”, a Tawny Frogmouth calling. This was the first time I’d heard this bird calling. And it kept on calling for a long time but we slept soundly, now knowing where the noise was coming from.
We occasionally have this species in our garden which is great. We don’t often hear it calling due to other noises – such as the television. My latest encounter with the species was at the Visitor Centre of the Innes National Park. We were paying our entry fees and I saw the lovely bird (shown above) sitting on display on the counter. A beautiful bird.
Sad to think that its um-um-umming days are over.
Good birding.