The sun rose on a crisp and clear morning in Grindelwald, an hour’s drive from home. The piercing cold wasn’t enough to dull my excitement of being out with my recording gear after a long time. And by the sound of it, the birds weren’t bothered either in spite of the mercury dipping to just below freezing.
Before I continue, I must clarify that a dam in Australia (and as I have now learnt, in South Africa) refers to an artificial pond or reservoir where water is collected. Basically - it is the enclosed water body itself, and not a structure that obstructs the flow of water.
The dam was full and its waters placid. The reeds which host the famed resident (or perhaps a visitor, who knows?) of the dam were strangely sparse and relatively flattened. Perhaps not a great sign - I had a feeling that this may be yet another failed attempt at trying to see the Australasian Bittern that is often reported from here.
Nonetheless, the birds were calling all around. I must admit that it was a rather loud and harsh chorus that greeted me. A number of Tasmanian birds are clearly unaware of their musical abilities (or lack thereof) . The screeching of Sulphur-crested Cockatoos was backed up by the loud trumpeting of Black Currawongs and the resounding clinks of the Grey Currawong.
I walked past the reeds, where the Swamphens scolded me for getting too close as I negotiated the muddy margins of the dam. Brown Thornbills were enjoying the flowers of the Silver Wattle, dipping their bills into them and looking up again with yellow dots stuck to their foreheads. A male Musk Duck at the centre of the dam presented quite a sight as it displayed by contorting its body, holding up its head and tail, and then kicking up a jet of water behind itself. Butcherbirds and magpies lent their songs to the chorus while cormorants dove around in the dam for fish.
The musk duck’s impressive display - with head & tail held high, the male kicks up a stream of water behind it.
The dam is fringed on one end by what appears to be a rich woodland dominated by eucalyptus and wattles. Here, I was drawn to the songs of the Grey Shrikethrush and the delightful Golden Whistler. A pair of Scarlet Robins perched low on fallen logs; and the male and female were busy looking for invertebrates; separately - but never straying too far from one another. Family groups of Superb Fairywrens darted in and out of the bushes, with a few coloured males looking very dapper in the sunlight.
Very soon, the incessant “pick-it-up” calls of the Striated Pardalotes started off - punctuated a few times by the twangs delivered by Banjo Frogs. This species of pardalote is a summer visitor to Tasmania but it seems to have arrived early this year. I continued walking and upon reaching the causeway, I was stopped in my tracks by a big brown bird that emerged from the reeds a few meters from me before taking to the wing, climbing higher while flying away, and then dropping down at the far end of the dam in the middle of the reeds. I felt dead chuffed to have finally seen an Australian Bittern.
Sauntering on, I began to formulate a plan to observe this bird perched and at ease. In another few minutes, I was joined by my friends Peter and Andi to try and look for this bird again. Over the course of the next hour or so, we would see the bittern thrice - each sighting as fleeting as the one before; with the cryptic and well-hidden bird always a step ahead, seeing us before we could spot it. Eventually, we decided to let the bird be and I relaxed, reflecting on the wonderful morning in the company of nature and good friends.
I am glad and grateful I came out this Sunday to soak in the wonderful sights and sounds of the Tassie wilderness. Every now and then, I try and think of birding as microcosm of life (in the way life is filled with fugacious moments of overwhelming joy and then with bits of sad, happy, dullness, disappointment, excitement, etc) - but it isn’t. It is, if anything, an escape from the rollercoaster of life. Birding in itself never gets disappointing, and if you’re as lucky as I am to experience it - you might find that it fills one’s life with joy, a sense of wonder, the thrills of chasing, and the ubiquitous cheer of song and flight.