Nylsvley's pullin' chicks

The Vic Falls wheatear [Pied - n-br], given the paucity of records, is our latest blocker & an unwelcome addition to an elastic list of self-injury. Co-celebrating the 93^rd birthday of Zimbabwe's Chief of Graft, Asia's vagrants & vagabonds were clearly in attendance; early party-pooping notwithstanding. We declined the temptation & made the decision not to go. Local twitchers & listers traveled north. Kudos. Commiserations to the late Saturday / Sunday crew. The joy is in the anticipation & the chase ...

'....a tragic & elastic list of self-injury.'

To be fair we've seen Pied Wheatear elsewhere in the world. It's an indulgence; a concession to our shrinking, global village & a malaise of complacency that sets off warning-bells. The mirror knows... In local news a creche of Striped Crake dominated domestic, social headlines. It's life at the end of the seasonal rainbow. Good news & testimony to patience, birding's true reward.

Dinner-time

Lunchtime

Tea-time

As for us we headed north to the Limpopo province's Nylsvley [Nylsvlei..] Nature Reserve for some storm-chasing of our own. The weather wasn't great for tennis but who plays tennis on purpose anyway? Avian specials included, inter alia: - Corn, Spotted & African Crake, Lesser Moorhen, Thrush Nightingale, Dwarf Bittern [br.], Rufous-bellied Heron, African Grass Owl & White-backed Vulture. That's a haul to titillate the records even if the flooding on the plain is only at 70%. The extent of the inundation is rain-dependent & this year's water came too late for the truly bizarre but who needs vagrancy when the floodplain's at full-employment?

Dinonyane Lodge - under new management

We spent Saturday night at a revamped Dinonyane Lodge. Under New Management & the supervision of new owner Eddie, this is the ONLY accommodation in the area we consistently endorse. An enlarged dam is a new addition to the facility and promises to be a beacon for local residents. Self-catered accommodation in the Nylsvley Reserve itself, for the contrarians that is, is clean and well-serviced. Guests staying in the reserve are limited to the gate opening / closing times and for those of you who don't know, Nylsvley's more iconic birding is accessed outside the reserve, at Vogelfontein. Gate times aren't always premised on a birder's best interests...

We spent an obligatory hour or two inside the 4000 ha reserve, an IBA and RAMSAR site, and partial protection [most of the floodplain is privately owned] for one of South Africa's largest ephemeral floodplains. Vogelfontein, accessed from outside the reserve, demanded the rest of our time. The bits & bobs of the floodplain accessed from within the reserve, was mostly unproductive. Bushveld birding elsewhere, however, was bold, brash & loud. Perversely a semi-flooded / partially-inundated floodplain racks up a larger list than a wet year would allow - habitat diversity rather than the extent of the inundation, key. Lesser-spotted Eagle, African Hawk Eagle, Cape & White-backed Vulture, Olive-tree Warbler & Purple Indigobird were the stand-outs on a longer list of others. A mixed flock of Black-winged Pratincole, Yellow-billed Kite, White Stork & Lesser Spotted Eagle rivaled the more internationally acclaimed #vismig fall-out spectacles, if only in number. If more-trumps-variety, then this annual, South African, phenomenon is grossly under-reported.

 '...  rivaled any acclaimed #vismig fall-out in number..'   

Vogelfontein lived up to expectations with one exception; the 'exception' this month's nominee for bogey-bird-of-the-year. Allen's Gallinule, a not uncommon visitor to Southern Africa's ephemeral pans & ponds, continues to elude - a duck & dive routine that turns the mind to chicken; roast chicken...

If you look up at the night-sky, on a dark night, away from the distractions of tungsten light & other man-made folly, are the stars not the building-blocks of dreams? Nothing is certain. The best & brightest demand attention & we're drawn to them. Good glass serves-up more, much more. On brighter nights the ordinary, more plentiful balls of gas & rock fade or vanish. The brightest shine-on but it's less, not more. Birding's the same. Whilst we chase the stars it's the more common, less fanciful birds that paint the canvas. Vogelfontein is such a place. On the commons & in the seasonal inundation we know they're there; the common, homespun many; a supporting cast of white-noise that lends the ordinary; an ordinary that highlights the special. Wax on..

"... we know they're there; the common, homespun many; a supporting cast of white-noise that lends the ordinary; an ordinary that highlights the special."

African Crake - Crex egregia

Then again it's the specials that make the common ordinary & who dreams of ordinary? Vogelfontein draws them in & this is our story.

In the previous post [See here] we put a positive spin on the lunar cycle & the effervescent effects a full moon has on birds. It gets them up and dancing. PG-rated stuff. This week was a different kinda flicks & chicks - the family kind. The weather played a role - & I have the empirical observation to stake the claim.

Dwarf Bittern - styling..

On Saturday the sun broke through the rain, during brief windows, at least twice (2x). An all-sorts cast forgot the cloak & dagger farm and took to the open to towel-off. The bedraggled ensemble included Spotted, Corn & African Crake. More than a handful of the older folk dried-off the kids; shivering bundles of ooh & ah. Dwarf Bittern chicks boasted spiked hair. Lesser Moorhen clucked a series of notes in a haphazard sort of way but for all the world to see. African Grass Owl preferred an early evening drip-dry in the blower; the crepuscular gust a spin-off of the storm that was.

African Crake - to be continued..

During the sun-downer interlude a Rufous-bellied Heron buzzed the field, close-by, overhead. It's difficult to focus the glass, eat a good biscuit, make yourself heard & drink G & Tea when these gifts come wrapped for the taking. Those are not hands-free applications.

Elsewhere the same wet weather grounded the clean-up crew. In and among the Cape committee - one or two White-backed Vultures; another regional 'are-you-sure?'. Yes - thank you for asking.

On Sunday the course was dry, the puddles had drained and the game was different. Rain was forecast but fell in spits & spats only. A 'pair' of Thrush Nightingale suggested we cross-over to the other side & scale the 12-ft. fence; the fence the intermediary at our discussion & a sturdy symbol of neighbourly trust. We'd omitted to pack our lawyer & declined the invitation. It's the ring of their eyes and not the white of their eyes we'll remember. Fair enough.

'... & scale the 12-ft. fence, .... a sturdy symbol of neighbourly trust.'


Exclude the Nightingale, a hobby and an inundated-grassland-gliding Boomslang [the antithesis of tree-snake & an insult to its mamma] & the remainder of the Sunday session had us well-grounded, back in the commons & at the table of home-cooked fare; tasty, super-sized servings but perennially under-seasoned & uneventful. Nothing else showed.

So there you have it. Dreams are the playthings of storms, steam-dried in the baleful sun and matured under the full moon on a cloudless night. It's a fact & I can prove it.

Birds dance in the moonlight

Existential threats to our integrity is the imbroglio of our crowd-sourced hobby. ID confirmation is often didactic in tone. We're a capricious, eclectic community & yet no community is served when only the elite have control. Too many birders are silenced by the embarrassment of being wrong or having to defend a sighting. It's a shame. Those who think birding is binary and a consequence of criteria satisfied, miss out on the grey. Grey is where mystery, humanity, complexity and truth reside. The path to infinite possibility sways & vibrates in the hot air of the whispering medusa. Ulterior motive is disingenuous & prevarication. I'm not interested.

Whilst we're happy to assist with age determination and sequential moult in raptors,  I want to talk about the moon. 

On the 11^th of February 2017 Alisha & I returned from a foray to one of the North West reserves via the village of Kgomo Kgomo and Zaagkuilsdrift. This iconic, non-directional, 25 km drive, on a public road, is steeped in local birding folklore and for good reason. By day birders are exposed to habitat diversity that lends a three-figure summer list. Winter's not bad either sans the wet-weather migrants. Birding at night can be equally spectacular. However, for birders targeting specific species, timing is key.

''.. for birders targeting specific species, timing is key.''

River Warbler (Locustella fluviatilis)

In the west seasonal rains inundate grassland. This ephemeral floodplain attracts every dervish of vlei, rush & reed. Further east the bushveld habitat lends itself to an array of resident & migratory species. These make up the numbers but can also be frustrating & just as elusive as many will attest.

Getting to the preferred habitat, for a targeted species, takes some planning. We'd arrived on the route's western floodplain just after sunset with the intention of trying for Striped Crake; a dastardly species to see & a denizen of inundated grassland. We'd heard an individual call the week before and returned for a more determined push. [Listen here]

A little after 8:45 pm the birds showed. We were lucky, as some have argued and that's true, mostly. However, we also spent a barefoot hour in leech-infested water at levels not too far below the belt. The mosquitoes took care of skin above the waterline; the ensuing free-for-all an old-fashioned bloodletting and a scratch for a different time. Moments before our high-kneed cha-cha, an unfortunate sideshow as we removed the tenants from our shorts, we'd watched one of two birds, in touching distance, submerge into the murk to escape further detection. A clever arrow in what is already an elusive quiver of magic, mystery & masterful-trickery. Unforgettable!    

" .. a clever arrow in what is already an elusive quiver of magic, mystery & masterful-trickery." 

The field-guides & one or two special, local 'luminaries', however, claimed something different; ' .. inactivity at roost & a stillness at night...' or something along those lines. Not true I'm afraid. Although the bird called the following afternoon, I'm told no-one else was lucky enough to see the crake. Why? This is where it gets interesting.

On the 11^th of February a full moon rose at approximately 19:17 local time. This is important. Peer-reviewed research shows that lunar phases affect the behaviour of insects, mammals and birds. Don't scoff; I'm not barking ... Recently published material on pelagic seabirds confirms an increase in seabird activity with moonlight. The activity was not only limited to the acquisition of food but was also a consequence of heightened predator avoidance; the predators themselves equally hyped on the lunar-cycle. In a similar study researchers found the lunar cycle affected hormone levels ... [in birds]

Kurrichane Buttonquail [Turnix sylvaticus]

On our return home, much later, the route was festooned with nocturnal birds either on the road itself or on structure nearby. Most were in easy spin, calling boundaries & setting limits.

European, Fiery-necked and Rufous-cheeked Nightjars were a nuisance in the headlights. Coursers were bold. Common [Kurrichane] Buttonquail were brash in the moonlight and owls & owlets perched on fences, poles and shrubs in impressive numbers. Southern White-faced Owl exceeded the fingers on two hands in number. A pair of Verreaux's Eagle-Owl generated a full-out-of-range form on the South African Bird Atlas Project. Remarkable. Even so, as an aside, that's difficult to credit given how many times we've seen them there before... Anyhoo.

".. Southern White-faced Owl exceeded the fingers on two hands in number."

Providence aside why'd we see the crake? We were the first responders on the scene. That helps. Yes we were quiet, patient and determined. Doesn't hurt. The ephemeral, inundated  grassland & it's temporary pond boasted a sound food source, ideal cover and was within earshot of the road. Convenient. We'd heard the female calling the week before - our timing, a week later, intentional and planned for. The pond itself was at the edge of drier grassland; not usually the preferred habitat of this species. The birds were confined to a relatively small area as a consequence; much more difficult for the birds to avoid a confrontation. Even a clumsy effort would have a more than even chance of success. The odds, therefore, were clearly in our favour. The same favourable odds, however, were applicable next day but the birds failed to show. Why? What was the x-factor?

The lunar cycle...

"What was the x-factor?"

www.mycalendartemplate.com

We'd arrived on site between 19:30 and 19:45. A full moon had risen moments before at 19:17. The birds showed at 20:45 [approx.] or 90 minutes after moonrise.

On average the moon takes 24 hours and 49 minutes to cross the sky. The stars, in turn, go once around the sky in 23 hours and 56 minutes (approx.) ie: 1 day. As a result the moon rises and sets 53 minutes later each day for one sidereal period of revolution or 27 days (approx.). For those of you who respect the sea this also accounts for the change in tides. Each high and low tide is 53 minutes later than the day before.

Like a bolt of lightening the bush had burst into life. The trees hummed with a supernatural-like energy; an energy we understand but are too embarrassed to concede in public.

Alisha & I had unwittingly stumbled into the surreal; something extraordinary. We tend to blunder into life's lessons. This is a connection beyond gravity & simple physics. The formula is encoded in our DNA. It's a life-force we've suppressed over generations of prim & proper; a shock therapy of good behaviour that keeps the spirit of our species off the dance floor. Deviance is legislated "weird" or punished in stocks or at the stake. Out there though, in the inundated grass, life's much more simple.

"We tend to blunder into life's lessons."

Why'd we see the crake? "Sequential polyandry... !" Blah-di-flappin'-blah.. Astonishingly naive & a passionless, ardour dampener in two dorky, lifeless words. Leave it to the beige people to squeeze the joy outta life.

In a world where females call the shots, hot-blooded males pay attention. When the moon dances a twinkle in an upturned eye - the girls come out to play..



I'll leave you with this -

www.my2018calendar.com

What you do on Sunday, the 12^th day of March, is your business. Me? I'm paying attention.