Ben Cruachan – natural history

It had been quite a few weeks since I’d been to Bellbird Corner to check on things, so I went there this morning. I knew there wouldn’t be much grass to mow with the drought biting, and that turned out to be the case, only one small corner had made the slightest growth. Birdlife was pretty sparse, Brown and Striated Thornbills, lots of Grey Fantails, some Yellow-faced Honeyeaters, Blue Wrens, a few Tree Martins, Magpies, a Grey Butcherbird, and a pair of Brown Falcons were about all I saw. On checking out our plantings there was good and bad news, the eucs planted two years ago have made good growth over the summer despite the dry, but our last planting has suffered about a 95% failure. Some of the eucs and a few callistemons are hanging on, but the bulk of the leptospermums and others are dead. We’ll have to do it all over again after we’ve had some decent rain, whenever that may be.
As I was walking back along the old road I saw what I thought were two black and white butterflies that I didn’t recognise, they made for some mistletoe in the gums, and one hovered beside it like a hummingbird. I got the camera into action and took some shots from about three metres away, here’s one.

I didn’t have a clue what they were, so I later sent an email to the eminent local naturalist Charles, who soon got back to me with the identification, Comocrus behri, the Mistletoe Moth. They’re quite a large moth, the adult has a wingspan of nearly 60 mm, and the larval host is of course mistletoe. They’re in the same group as the grapevine moth and look somewhat similar.

I was pretty pleased at getting respectable photos, and was looking forward to making much of them with my good wife, but when I reached the door she met me with binoculars in hand and a pleased expression on her face. “Guess what I’ve seen?” she said, “What?” said I. “Our first robin, at least two months early!” was the reply, “And it’s still there”
Somewhat deflated I whipped the lens cover off the camera and went out into the garden, and sure enough there was a young bird, very quiet, and indeed very early. I’m sure that the early arrival is the result of the fires in the high country driving the birds out. I followed it around for ten minutes while it fed in typical robin fashion, scanning the ground from a post or branch, then dropping down to snap up an insect.
Murphy’s Law as pertaining to my bird photography was in full force, and the only shots I could get were in the shade looking towards the sun, which meant I had to open up a stop and a bit to try and get an acceptable picture. This is about the best of them, click for a larger version.

Coral liked the moths by the way, perhaps honours were about even.