Inland birds make a dash for survival towards the coast

Cockatiel, Gatton. 

A visit out to Gatton last Wednesday brought into sharp relief how badly drought-stricken our inland communities currently are.

Below average rainfall and warm daily temperatures are baking rural regions of NSW and Queensland even through the winter, with some farmers describing it as “the worst drought in living memory.”

My first stop of the day was Lake Apex, where I wanted to see if waterbirds from further inland were seeking refuge.

Before I could even park the car, however, I noticed a different group of inland birds wheeling around the lake environs: cockatiels (Nymphicus hollandicus). 

This was my first ever sighting of these birds in the wild, and I was awestruck by their grace and beauty—a completely different experience to seeing them caged.

A dry, grain-based diet means that cockatiels need daily access to water, so to overcome their vulnerability to drought, they live a nomadic lifestyle where they move around according to regional conditions.

Plumed whistling-ducks, Gatton.

On Lake Apex, hundreds of densely-packed plumed whistling-ducks (Dendrocygna eytoni) were camped out on muddy island margins, filling the air with their peeping calls.

Pink-eared ducks, Australian pelicans (Pelecanus conspicillatus) and Eurasian coots (Fulica atra), Gatton.

Australasian shoveler and pink-eared ducks, Gatton.

It was the adjoining waterbody of Lake Freeman that held a greater bevy of regionally uncommon birds however, with pink-eared ducks (Malacorhynchus membranaceus) being the most numerous species.

I would have to say these are my favourite species of duck: their zebra stripes, highly-specialised filter-feeding bill, vortexing behaviour and trumpeting call are all thoroughly lovable.

Also on this lake were a group of five Australasian shovelers (Spatula rhynchotis), a species that, according to the E-bird website, hasn’t been recorded at this site for four years. 

On the same website, there are reports of inland birds such as the red-backed kingfisher (Todiramphus pyrrhopygius), western gerygone (Gerygone fusca) and freckled duck (Stictonetta naevosa) appearing in South-east Queensland, so it seems like an exodus out of the very driest regions is occuring.

I also wanted to explore the smaller creeks and waterbodies in the area to see how they were faring in the drought, so I drove twenty minutes away into the Ropeley hills.

Dry farm dam, Ropeley.

Here I noticed almost every farm dam was completely dry, and my heart sank for the local graziers. 

The narrow, winding channel known as Deep Gully cut a desolate and dusty figure between properties, but when I explored a thickly-vegetated road verge, I found a pool in the gully that held standing water.

Waterhole, Ropeley. INSET: Black-striped wallaby.

This waterhole had become the focal point for local wildlife, and its muddy margins were criss-crossed with all kinds of tracks.

Black-striped wallabies (Macropus dorsalis) and European hares (Lepus europaeus) watched me nervously from their dead grass hideaways, bounding away explosively if I unknowingly approached too close. 

Their numerous droppings were interspersed with those belonging to feral predators; I imagine that while times might be tough for the herbivores, the carnivores are doing just fine, with their prey weakened and unable to move too far from the waterhole. 

I finished the day at Lake Clarendon, and though I had never been there before, I could tell from the lay of the land that the lake was much reduced in size. 

With the waterbirds just distant specks on the shimmering waterbody, I decided to walk a grassy trail behind the dam wall to enjoy the country scenery, and was subsequently astounded by a handful of birds on a small farm lagoon.

A solitary red-necked avocet (Recurvirostra novaehollandiae) waded in the mud at one end, and at the other end, a glossy ibis (Plegadis falcinellis) and yellow-billed spoonbill (Platalea flavipes) did the same. 

Black-necked stork and galah (Eolophus roseicapilla), Lake Clarendon.

In the centre of the lagoon, however, was a magnificent black-necked stork (Ephippiorhynchus asiaticus).

Being my favourite bird—actually, make that lifeform—on the planet, I felt compelled to stay and watch it for a while, and was treated to one of the most memorable sunsets I’ve ever experienced, resplendent with golden jabiru.

As evening descended and a bright moon rose, I walked back to my car feeling grateful for some of the sights I'd seen that day, and concerned about others.

Let’s hope some rain fills those farm dams soon.