Bird of the Week

Bird 276 – Oriental Dollarbird

Today we meet the Oriental Dollarbird, a curious bird from Australia and Southeast Asia. Now from the name we may wonder what they have to do with currency? Are they the bird bankers? Do they use money to line their nests? Sadly, the answer to these questions in no.

Dollarbirds are called Dollarbirds because of the distinct markings they have on their feathers. On the underside of each wing the bird has light blue patches which are visible in flight. Apparently people thought the round patches looked like dollar coins. So less of a financial whiz and more a passing fancy we people take.

But now, as we reach the end of the year, I would like to send a special thank you to everyone who has sent a couple of dollars (see what I did there) to this bird-based email service. What a segue!

Would you believe that sending gag emails comes with costs? Sadly, there are online hosting fees for both the email servicer and the non-weekly podcast.

I was really touched by how many people were willing to sign on to the weekly bird’s Patreon page, and the numerous others who donated through Ko-fi when I set up those services at the start of the year. It has made a big difference in keeping this venture flying.

I am excited to bring you more birds next year, in both written and audio form. And if you enjoy this silly service and want to throw a little love this way, you can find the Patreon page here. And for a one-off thank you, Ko-fi is here. There is no obligation, the birds will always be free, but a loose dollar here or there does help out.

And if you do sign up for Patreon, it comes with a bonus podcast about how birds got their names. I gave the Dollarbird away for free, but there are 16 other birds waiting for you right now, with more fresh ones coming all the time.

So, thank you once again for reading, sharing and indulging my silliness. I hope you all have a great festive season, and a restful new year. And look to your inboxes soon, there will be more birds a-coming.

04/12/2022

Photo credit:

1: “Oriental Dollarbird Eurystomus orientalis” by sussexbirder

2: “OOPS, just made it.” by Lip Kee

3: “Dollar bird (Eurystomus orientalis)” by Lip Kee Yap

4: Aviceda – Own work, https://commons.wikimedia.org/…

Bird 275 – Australian King Parrot

The Australian King Parrot is easily one of the most beautiful parrots getting around. Utterly unmistakable; the males have a brilliant red chest and head, matched with rich green wings and a deep blue rump. The females are primarily green, but they also wear red pants. This makes these Kings a little unusual among their parrot kin. Generally (but not always) male and female parrots tend to look similar, and it can be devilishly difficult to tell them apart. I don’t know about you, but I can never tell if a Galah or a Cockatoo is male or female. But the King Parrot has decided to be different.

As a general rule with birds, if the sexes look different from each other, they don’t always form pair bonds. The King Parrot breaks the rule again, as they are known to mate for life.

They have a sweet and shy disposition. Cautious and retiring by nature, more boisterous birds like Lorikeets can bully them out of feeders, and they are always weary of people. But with a little patience they can be won over. My grandmother used to have a wild King Parrot that would land in her patio and sing when he wanted to be fed, she called him Daddy-o.

Now, it might be easy to think the birds earned their name because of their elegant appearance. If I had to pick a parrot for elevation to the nobility, this would be the one. But in fact, the King Parrot is named after a former colonial Governor – Governor Philip Gidley King, third Governor of New South Wales from 1800-1806. So while technically the King in their name isn’t regal, it is viceregal and I feel that still counts for something.

27/11/2022

Photo credit:

1: https://www.flickr.com/photos/…

2: https://www.flickr.com/photos/…

3: https://www.flickr.com/photos/…

4: https://pxhere.com/en/photo/10…

Bird 274 – Marabou Stork

If you do a google search for the world’s ugliest bird I can guarantee this guy will be somewhere near the top: the Marabou Stork.

The Marabou Stork is a huge bird that lives in sub-Saharan Africa. They stand about 1.5 metres tall and have a wingspan of over 3 metres, big bird.

No doubt you’ve noticed their most prominent feature: their featherless neck and head, complete with pink, wrinkly skin. And just to top it off, they sometimes have a dangling pendulous sack that hangs off their neck. Technically it’s called a gular sack and they use it to make noises in mating season… kinda gross.

Their overall appearance is what you’d get if you crossed a stork with a vulture. And there’s a good reason for that, because this Stork has the same lifestyle as the vultures. Their food of choice is dead, decaying things. It is suspected that just as the vulture is bald because they like to get neck deep in the body cavity of dead things, the Marabou Stork is bald for the same reason. Head feathers would just get matted in entrails.

Oh … they also poop on their own legs as a way to stay cool. Just a little something else that adds to the theme.

Like the vultures, the Marabou Stork plays an important ecological roll, recycling dead animals back into the food chain and removing potential biohazards from the environment.

Increasingly though, they have become a common sight at dumps, picking over the remains of our waste. They’ve even been known to eat shoes … so that’s a thing. These birds are creepy, decay feasting, dump-yard dwelling, shoe-eating freaks. And I think they’re great.

Now the Marabou Stork may look like the thing of nightmares, but if you want to meet more horror-inducing birds, then do I have good news for you. Our latest podcast episode is up, and it is all about spooky birds. Want to meet a brain eating bird or the bird with most haunting call? Then join me for a little jaunt into the world of avian creepiness (Apple, spotify).

19/11/2021

Photo credit:

1: “Marabou Stork” by carterse

2: “Marabou Stork (Leptoptilos crumeniferus)” by Lip Kee

3: “Marabou Stork, Leptoptilos crumeniferus, at the aptly named Marabou Pan, Savuti, Chobe National Park, Botswana” by Derek Keats

4: “Marabou Stork” by Mathias Appel

Bird 273 – Gang-gang Cockatoo

Today we meet one of the most unusual parrots getting around, the Gang-gang Cockatoo. They are the black sheep of the cockatoo family. Aside from the even odder Cockatiel, they are the smallest member of the family. They are also unusual for being the only cockatoo with strong sexual dimorphism. The males possess a bright red head with a frilly crest, while the females are dressed in scaly grey.

As to their odd name; do they form into gangs and perform shake downs of anyone foolish enough to stray into their pine trees? Well no, they don’t, although they do sometimes gather into flocks large enough to constitute a gang.

No-one is quite sure where their name came from. Although it is suspected it originates with the native Wiradjuri language and is probably onomatopoeic based on the calls they make.

For my part though, I always thought the Gang-gang’s call sounded rather similar to a wine bottle being uncorked. This could be because I’m alcoholic, but it’s really impossible to say for sure.

Sadly, the Gang-gang is classified as vulnerable. As with so many hollow nesting birds the loss of older trees and feeding habitat through land clearing has not been good for their population. And to top it off during the 2019/20 bushfires 28-36% of their habitat was severely impacted. It doesn’t paint a rosy picture. Thankfully though, here in Canberra, they can still be commonly spotted, so let’s hope this outpost holds together for them.

13/11/2022

Photo credit:

1: “Callocephalon fimbriatum male – Callum Brae.jpg” by JJ Harrison (https://www.jjharrison.com.au/)

2: “Female Gang-gang cockatoo” by CazzJj

3: “Callocephalon fimbriatum, Gang-gang Cockatoo” by Mark Norman

Bird 272 – White-crested Laughingthrush

Today we meet a bird with an unusual name, the White-crested Laughingthrush. And it’s a good thing this is a bird, because the last thing I want to hear a doctor say is ‘you’ve laughing thrush’.

Funnily enough, the Laughingthrushes aren’t related to our other feathered Thrush friends. Turns out they’re part of the larger Babbler family, go figure.

So what is the deal with the Laughingthrush? These are birds of tropical Asia. As the name suggests, they are vocal. They pal around in little family flocks of up to 12 or so members. And when these birds get together they cause a raucous. Each group has a leader who initiates a call which is usually answered with a disorderly chorus.

They have a large vocal range made up of loud cackling outbursts and more quiet, pleasant chatter or mutterings. Much of this noise is part of the group’s communication. They can let the other birds know where they are, what they’re doing, warn of threats or encourage the flock to mob an enemy. The Laughingthrush can be quite aggressive towards other birds who step into their territory.

In recent years a lot of research has been done to better understand bird calls. Increasingly, people are coming to realise that bird calls are highly nuanced and can encode complex information. For example, they can not only warn that a threat is near, but their calls can also indicate the location the danger is in and if there are multiple enemies. More and more, people are starting to think of bird song as more akin to language than we previously thought. So it could be that the White-crested Laughingthrush has cracked the mysteries of the universe, but has no way to tell us about it, yet.

06/11/2022

Photo credit:

1: “Garrulax leucolophus 170546920” by Samuel Lee

2: “Garrulax leucolophus 173081069” by Jagdish Singh Negi

3: “Garrulax leucolophus 105661890” by Christoph Moning

4: “White-crested Laughingthrush” by Alastair Rae

Bird 271 – Purple Martin

This week’s bird is the Purple Martin. Now, the name is quite deceptive. First, they don’t really look like a Martin, more like a Morris if you ask me. And second, they’re not even purple. They have dark blue/black plumes, but they are highly iridescent and under certain light they can shimmer deep blue, royal purple, or even green.

Martins are also a type of Swallow. In fact, they are the biggest Swallows in North America. They have a summer range that extends all the way up into Canada and a wintering range down to southern Brazil.

Like all Swallows, the Purple Martin is a quick agile flyer, and they capture all of their prey on the wing. They fly up to a height of some 150 meters and then dart about to catch their fill.

One of the most curious things about the Purple Martin is their breeding habits. They are migratory, but fly between the north and south using a staggered approach. The older, more experienced birds leave first, followed by the youngsters. This strategy means that the older birds secure the best nests, have the best chance of finding a mate, and the best chance to raise their young. The kids have to pay their dues, before they can afford a nice house.

That actually isn’t the curious thing about their breeding habits. The really curious thing is that the Purple Martin is almost 100% reliant on people for artificial nesting sites. Traditionally, Martins nested in holes and cave crevices. But people started putting up nesting boxes to encourage the birds to nest near them. The Martin was only too happy to oblige, and over the years then have all but given up their wild ways and settled down into their human provided dwellings.

Purple Martins have high nesting fidelity. If they have a successful breeding season, they will return to the same site over and over again. People have been putting up nests for centuries. It’s a practices dating back to the American Indians. As long as we keep the nests up, the Martins keep coming back.

It’s an unusual nesting strategy, one of the only wild birds to become totally dependent on human provided nests. But there are many other odd nesting practices in the bird world, and to find out more you can tune in to this week’s podcast, all about nest (Spotify, Apple).

30/10/2022

Bird 270 – Dutch Hookbill

According to Captain Holt from Brooklyn Nine-Nine the Dutch Hookbill is the worst kind of duck. But is the good captain right? Is there a case that this poor little duck is terrible? Well, let’s find out.

First, the Hookbill is not a proper species of bird. It is a form of the domesticated duck. In much the same way that people breed fancy cats, dogs and chickens (not to mention Pigeons), we also breed fancy ducks, because why the hell not?

Next, no one really knows where this species of duck came from or how long they’ve been around for. The earliest documented reference to them comes from a book published in Latin way back in 1676.

Now, their most prominent feature is their rather pronounced downturned bill, which gives them a kindly yet sad demeaner.

This duck is also rather rare. According to current estimates, there are about 800 waddling about. Back in the day, when the sale of duck eggs was more common, they were favoured because they lay better than normal domestic ducks (they can lay up to 200 eggs a years). They were also famed for their ability to forage. Basically, you could turn them loss on a waterway and they’d feed themselves without any need for supplemental feeding from the farmer, which made them dirt cheap to raise.

But as chicken eggs have come to dominate the market, there was less demand for this distinct duck, and so their numbers dwindled. In the 1980s, they were all but extinct. But 15 birds were gathered up and a breeding program was started to save them.

Today these ducks are largely kept for ornamental reasons, because of their unique appearance. So is the Dutch Hookbill the worst duck? Far from it. They’re self-reliant, excellent layers, and have a strangely beautiful face. What more could you want from a duck? I give them five stars, best duck out.

23/10/2022

Photo credit:

1: Reddit user: https://www.reddit.com/r/brook…Hookbill by Cyan Biologist

2: Hookbill by Cyan Biologist

3: Prodigy Farm: https://www.prodigyfarmspella….

4: R. Traxl (dunkel-wildfarbig)

Bird 269 – Hooded Dotterel

Although better known as the Hooded Plover, today’s bird is the Hooded Dotterel. What is a dotterel, you may well ask. It’s a type of plover. Is there a reason why some birds are called dotterels and others are called plovers? Nope.

I know that’s an unsatisfying answer. But common bird names make no sense. If it makes you feel better, the word ‘dotterel’ derives from the word ‘dote’. But this is the archaic definition of the word, to be a fool, or easily tricked. The word was first applied to the birds because they were apparently easy to catch.

Ironically though, these little cuties of the shore line are masters of camouflage. Although they may look easily identifiable with their black heads and bright red beaks and eyes, when they’re huddled up on a sand dune they all but blend in. Which is a good thing, because they nest on the ground and need to disappear to keep their eggs safe.

Their chicks also look like a hand full of sand.

And yet, this great ability to blend in has proven to be their great undoing. Because they easily go unnoticed on the beach, it is easy for people to inadvertently disturb or destroy their nests.

This happened with such frequency that today they’re listed as a vulnerable species. In many areas of Australia special conservation work has occurred to protect their nesting sites and monitor their eggs. A program on Philip Island has been watching the birds since the 1980s and has seen moderate success in stabilising the small population that lives there.

As an example of how hard it is to build these populations back up, 2022 was declared to be a good year for the birds. They laid over 60 eggs. Of those, 23 hatched, and ten lived long enough to fledge and leave the island. So yeah, infant mortality is high, even in a good year. So the little Dotterel (plover) may be fighting against the odds, but these cute little birds are hanging in there and with some help they may thrive yet.

16/10/2022

Photo credit:

1: “Hooded Plover” by JJ Harrison

2: “Hooded Plover.” by Laurie R B

3: “Hooded Plover.” by Laurie R B

4: “Hooded Plover.” by Laurie R B

Bird 268 – Far Eastern Curlew

One of the funny things about living on a globe is that everything is relative when it comes to direction. If you’re standing at the south pole, by definition, every direction is north. And what is north of the north pole? Well may we ask the same questions about the Far Eastern Curlew (Numenius madagascariensis). Do they live at the furthest point to the east you can get, or are they just the Near Western Curlew? Philosophical questions for later.

Or maybe neo-colonial questions for now. For when it comes to the Curlew, Europe is the benchmark we measure its location against. The Far Eastern Curlew (they’re a type of sandpiper) spends a good chunk of time in Siberia and Mongolia. But it does migrate and spends the winter chilling out in Australia, New Zealand and the South China Sea. You may have also deduced from its scientific name that it frequents Madagascar too. But that’s a lie, it doesn’t go anywhere near the island.

So far today, its name has caused a great deal of confusion. But there’s more to come. Turns out the Far Eastern Curlew is one of the biggest species of Curlew, with a wingspan of over a metre. It also has the longest bill of any Sandpiper. Longer even than the poorly named Long-billed Curlew. Clearly this was a bird born to confuse and confound.

Like all shore birds, this Curlew spends its days wondering the shallows and marshlands. It uses its extraordinary long bill (up to 20cm) to probe for creatures hiding deep in the mud. They go through periods of feeding and fattening, before they fly north to breed in Siberia.

There are many things that threaten this Curlew, particularly the development and loss of coastal habitat in the South China Sea area. Efforts need to be made to protect their foraging ground, they already have to dig their face deep into the mud just to eat, so the least we can do is make their life a little easier.

09/10/2022

Photo credit:

1: “File:Numenius madagascariensis 1 – Stockton Sandspit.jpg” by JJ Harrison (https://www.jjharrison.com.au/)

2: Flying Curlew by Bronwen Harvey

3: “Far Eastern Curlew紅腰杓鷸” by stfbfc

4: “黦鷸招牌覓食方法 Far-eastern Curlew’s typical feeding behaviour: Probing” by Changhua Coast Conservation Action

Bird 267 – King Island Emu

So, I know you’ve all heard of the Emu. But did you know there used to be a mini Emu that lived on King Island? Well, there was, and today you’re going to find out all about it.

King Island is located in the Bass Strait, halfway between Tasmania and the Australian mainland. During the last ice age it formed part of a land bridge that connected Tasmania to the rest of Australia. It is believed about 700,000 years ago a mob of Emus strolled onto the bridge, and when sea levels rose they got cut off from their fellows.

Being flightless the Emu had no way off the island, and so they settled in for the long haul. The first thing these new Emu did was grow small. They stood only about half as high as their mainland relatives. This is an example of island dwarfism, which is a tendency for island dwelling animals to shrink. This could happen in response to there being less space or resources on the island. A more compact shape ends up being more efficient. They were also much more darkly plumed, with blacker feathers.

Now sadly, the King Island Emu is extinct. They were discovered in 1802 when a band of sealers set up shop on the island. Almost everything we know about them comes from a single interview a French naturalist conducted with one of the sealers in 1802. He jotted down some notes, caught two live specimens that he sent back to Paris, and then went on his way.

By 1805 the King Island Emu was extinct. The sealers had killed all of them for food. The two specimens that went back to Paris lived until 1822, and when they died that was the end of the poor little Emu.

For a long time the mainland Emu was treated with similar distain. They were hunted for food and thought of as a pest. So much so that at one point in the 1930s the Australian Government even sent the army in wage war against the birds. That was the Great Emu War of 1932. In a shock twist the birds won. It’s a rather ridiculous story, and if you want to find out more then tune in to this week’s podcast episode where we tell you the whole dumb story from start to finish (Spotify, Apple).

02/10/2022

Photo credit:

1: By John Gerrard Keulemans. Published by Muséum national d’histoire naturelle (France) – https://commons.wikimedia.org/…

2: By Tim H. Heupink, Leon Huynen, David M. Lambert – Heupink TH, Huynen L, Lambert DM (2011) https://commons.wikimedia.org/…

3: By Marie-Lan Taÿ Pamart – https://commons.wikimedia.org/…

4: By Charles-Alexandre Lesueur – https://commons.wikimedia.org/…