The Storm Birds are back

After a small hiatus (6 months, so maybe not so small), I’m back to my blog. A bit has happened since then, so expect a few blogs over the next few weeks.

This post is dedicated to the Eastern Koels. They are one of my favourite birds, not only because of their looks, and they really are stunning, but it’s what they are & what they do.

Storm as last years juvenile

I just love his colours.

Before we get going, I’ll explain the “Storm Bird” thing. Koels could be conservatively called a bloody noisy bird. Early morning, early evening, mid morning, mid arvo, in fact any time of the day, you will hear these guys. If you have Koels, you may not know them by sight, but you will by call. It’s rumoured they take their raucous call up a notch with the approach of our summer storms. I think that’s more myth than fact. If they raised the level of their calls I’m sure their head would explode. But hey, I’m no scientist.

Any LOUDER and my head will explode.

They are Cuckoos, and like most Cuckoos are “Brood Parasites”. This is a term you may not be familiar with (I had to google it). It means they lay an egg in another birds nest for them to raise as their own. And typically these guys choose Wattlebirds, Magpie-Larks (Pee Wee’s) & Friarbirds as “Foster Parents”. I have both Red Wattlebirds & Pee Wee’s frequent the Tapas Bar.

The "Foster Parents"

That's Wilma giving Red an earful.

They fly down late September – early October from New Guinea, spend the summer here & fly home late March – early April. Getting photos of these guys is tough. Adult Koels spend most of their time high up in the tree tops, but I’ve been lucky and a couple of times they have flown down to get a drink from the Tranquillity Pool and checkout the food on offer at the Tapas Bar. The kids however are a lot easier to film as their Foster Parents feed a lot closer to the ground, and in my case choose the Tapas Bar to fill up. But more on that in a minute.
Not a lot is known about these birds.  We know they fly down, do their thing, then fly back.  Now for some really interesting stuff. The baby Koels are huge. 2, 3 or 4 times bigger than their foster parents. How’s it the foster parents don’t twig that this giant isn’t theirs? How is it that foster dad doesn’t quiz foster mum as to whose been fluffing her feathers.

Well I can answer the first question, but not the last. The baby Koel needs to hatch first & eject the other eggs from the nest. Now there is nothing for the parents to compare to & they imprint with this baby Koel. And he is persistent. Begging, begging, begging. From first light to last. He can also beg like a bunch of chicks so the poor (somewhat stupid) foster parents think they are feeding a brood of chicks and work harder.

So that’s a bit of a Bio on Eastern Koels. 
Here is my experience with them……………….
Last year a pair of Koels selected a pair of Red Wattlebirds that are regulars in my backyard, named Red & Little John (I didn’t know Little John was a female until I saw Red mating with her on the side of the Tranquillity Pool).

Red & Little John

It was about now I realised Little John was a she.

At least I hope so.

Well they were great foster parents. They fed this kid from dawn to dusk. Red & Little John would visit the Tapas Bar, grab a beak full of food and fly off to feed their very demanding chick. Eventually the chick made it to the Tapas Bar to self-feed. Even though he was self-feeding he didn’t stop begging. Just had to keep the pressure up to the parents. While all this is going his real Mum & Dad are never far away. Always within eyesight & calling.

As everyone has a name in the Tapas Bar story. I named mum & dad Kath & Kym with bub called Storm.

This is Kym (Dad).

Boy does he make a striking figure.

Here is Mum (Kath)

She's also a good looking piece of eye candy.

This is Little John feeding Storm.

A mothers love.

She'd have to be praying he doesn't sneeze

Red's a little smarter.

Easier to retract your head if you can pull back from a height

should Storm sneeze or hiccup.

They stayed thru February, mum & dad flew home in March. A little while later I never saw Storm again.

Well that is until this year. I think he has returned along with his parents Kath & Kym. Now this is going to sound freaky. I think they have returned to exact same backyard he was raised in. Now for something freakier, I think Storm has selected the same foster parents to raise his kid. How’s that for being out there.

Red & his new missus Wilma are raising a baby Koel. I guess Red did ask the question “who was fluffing Little Johns feathers” because she has been replace by Wilma.

I think its Storm, as this bird is in the transition stage between juvenile & adult colours. I think Kath & Kym have found another pair of Wattlebirds to raise this year’s chick, as there is another chick being raised 100 meters further down my reserve and I have 2 pairs of Koels on the reserve this year.

Storm

No Longer a juvenile

Yet not quite his adult colours.   A kid in transition.

I'll know more next year if I get 3 pairs of Koels.

But that’s next year. Let’s talk about this year. Now we’re up to Hoover. Oh yeah, that’s what I called this year’s baby Koel. Boy can he eat. He goes thru a full Mango a day as well as other stuff. Raising this guy is costing me a fortune. That’s not quite the truth. I get a lot of the Tapas Bar supplies for free from a local supermarket. But I DO SPEND A LOT OF TIME CHOPPING J
One morning, with too much time on my hand, I counted how many times Hoover begged in a minute. 50 times. That’s 30,000 times a day. If I was his foster parent, well……….let’s just say it’s lucky I never had kids. Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, Are we there yet, THIRTY THOUSAND TIMES.

I had to laugh when I saw this.

Red has his head stuck in that banana.

He nearly fell of the Tapas Bar in an effort to shake off his new hat.

Thunder (Storms missus) like here name, won’t take a backward step from trouble. Even when that trouble is Cedrick the Lorikeet. He’s the bully at the Tapas Bar. He has everyone bluffed. EXCEPT Thunder. She’s from New Guinea. She doesn’t know his rep. What’s more…..she couldn't give a flying Fuc….Water is water & food is food. Both essential to her life & that of her bub. Will she take shit from a Lorrie? Not for 1 second...

Say G'day to Thunder

Storms very nice looking but fiery mate.

Here sits Thunder, warming herself in the early morning sun

Turns out she's a bit partial to boiled rice.

All's good at the Tapas Bar

That is until Cedrick arrived

Straight up he gave Thunder her marching orders.

Unlike the other birds that visit, this didn't intimidate Thunder.

In fact it drove her to rage.

Cedrick was totally unprepared for her reaction.

She charged directly at him.

Who was this devil bird. Thunder by name - Thunder by nature.

I only have a few photos of Storm & Thunder as they were driven away whenever they attempted to land. You've just seen that Thunder won’t take shit from Cedrick, The baddest bird in the whole damned town Badder than old King Kong And meaner than a junkyard dog.

Who could be badder than Cedrick? Here is some irony for you………………………………………

Red & Wilma - the “Foster Parents” of their offspring. They are fiercely protective of the food on offer. When you have a giant to feed, you need all the food you can get. And boy can Hoover stack it away.

It was as if Storm & Thunder understood this and acquiesced. It seemed all 4 players in this game knew the importance of the food I put up. The success of Red & Wilma feeding Storms bub was paramount in Hoover’s survival. He needed to be strong enough in a month or so for the epic 2,700 kilometre flight home.

It wasn't just the Koels that the Wattlebirds lit into. Another recipient of their ire was Kit the Green Catbird. Most times he would just cop the abuse & leave, but sometimes it was all too much. Sometimes he had to do what every self respecting Catbird  needed to do. Put these Wattlebirds back in their spot. Bring them down a peg or two.

Wilma leaving Kit no doubt as to her intention.

Leave or lose an eye.

Kit giving Red a quick serve.

there comes a time when you must say "Enough is Enough"

Sometimes you might need to repeat yourself.

After weeks of flying the food up to where Hoover was roosting, it was a huge relief when he decided to fly down to the Tapas Bar to make it easier for Red & Wilma to feed him.



And a huge relief for me. Now I had something for Headley to shoot.

Something else I was lucky to photo. Wattlebirds don’t normally grab the chunks of meat meant for my Kookaburras. It’s just not their thing. However, it was just what Hoover must have needed. Now how the hell did they know that?

Red with a juicy piece of steak for Hoover.

Who said he was a vegetarian???

This next lot of photos made me smile. Hoover must think he’s of royal blood and Mum & Dad are there to pander to his needs. He’s having a grand old time sitting in the Tranquillity Pool while mum funnels food down that cavernous gob. Next he’ll be calling for the “Royal Bum Wipers”.

I can understand why Storm has returned to my backyard to raise his kid.

How many places out there treat birds like this.

His own private Spa.

And a smorgasbord of grapes, mango, peach & banana

garnished with fresh local flowers & berries.

The downside to Headley my camera is that he’s fixed. Not only that his eyesight is pretty piss poor. Unless his subject is within 30cm he’s next to useless. So how do I get Hoover in front of Headley? Food & lots of it. Sooner or later he will perch himself in just the right spot for me to get “That Photo”. The one that captures the drama of being a Wattlebird feeding a giant.

C'mon girls, if this was your kid, would you stick your head down there?

The one thing that I’ve noticed over the years is that young birds are clumsy. Bloody clumsy. In these next 2 photos Hoover is stepping from the Tranquillity Pool to the blue bar. A step of a couple of inches. He completely missed the bar and unceremoniously falls off the Tranquillity Pool.  Even when he’s a klutz, he’s a good looking klutz.

10 days, maybe 2 weeks since he joined Red & Wilma on the Tapas Bar, he started to self-feed. If I thought I was going thru a bit of food, it was nothing to what I was soon to go through. I was refilling the Tapas Bar 2 & 3 times a day. This kid had an appetite of a whole football team.

I put up some berries I thought the Bowerbirds might like. They never got to see them.

My Kookaburras love potato salad (Yeah, I hear you. Kookaburras right? What can I say. They like what they like). I had ½ a tub I’d been saving for them. Like the berries, Hoover ‘Hoovered up the lot’

His self-feeding was a little bitter sweet in fact, for it started the countdown to his departure. I will need to chop more food, he will eat more food, and then without a so much as a 'by your leave' he will go. I expect the last thing I will hear is…………

“So Long and Thanks for all the Fish”