Where would we be without proofreaders?

Ask the Adelaide Advertiser.



(For non-Australians: The PM's surname is Gillard. The Addy gets it right in the caption.)

Even more snails!

[Strangled connection again. Must be more frugal with my downloads.]

I was planning to investigate the wait-a-while for snails, but decided not to disturb the pademelon posse that had settled down next to it. (Plant to right, just out of picture.)


Really, who could be heartless enough to shift this little poppet?


But I didn't have to move the marsupials, because the snails came to me. This one was grazing on the lid of the recycling bin.



Another, almost certainly the same species, was moseying around the garden.


As was this one, which, at about 30mm long, was the largest of the three.


Semislugs (family Helicarionidae) are common in rainforest and wet sclerophyll forest along the east coast. They come in a variety of sizes and shell shapes, but always have that little pointed tail tip. In many species, extensions (lappets or lobes) of the mantle cover the shell. You can see them partly retracted to reveal the shell in the recycling bin snail.

[I'll talk about these animals in detail when my satellite connection goes back to normal in a few days.]

Snail's Eye View: Now with real snails!

Everyone knows this experience. You're taking photos of a fungus or flower and are concentrating so much on the lighting and focus that you miss the tiny beetles, flies and mites crawling over your subject. It's only when you download the pics some time later that you spot them. And then they're so obvious, you wonder whether you're going daft in your old age how they managed to escape your notice.

It happened late this afternoon, when I took some photos of a stem of the wait-a-while or lawyer vine (Calamus australis) that's trying to take over my shed. Wait-a-while is a climbing palm that is common along rainforest edges. It derives both common names from the abundant, backward pointing hooks that help the plant latch onto suitable substrates for climbing. They also latch onto unsuitable substrates include sleeves, pants and skin and can take quite a while to dislodge. I find that swearing helps.

Anyway, after I photographed the spines along the main stem — which seem to have no function other than to deter herbivores — and downloaded the pics, I spotted two little shells nestling among the spines. I'm not sure exactly what they, but I'm pretty sure they're either euconulids or helicarionids. I'll have to examine one of them under the hand lens. This is not going to be easy. Well, the hand lens bit will be a doddle. Finding the critters again will be the tricky part.

Here's that stem again with the snails' locations marked. (It would have been helpful if the plant had looked like this in the wild. I have similar gripes about geological maps.)



Here's the upper one.



And the one further down the stem.



Living among the spines makes sense when there are so many tree-dwelling vertebrates — birds, lizards and frogs — that would like nothing more than a juicy snack. Makes me wonder what might be living on stinging trees ...

More on these snails* when I get to see them up close.

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* May not actually be the same snails.

Good news for a tree roo

This little Lumholtz's tree kangaroo fell out of a tree and broke a hind leg. Fortunately, he was found and taken to one of the wildlife carers who specialises in macropods. He's recovering from his accident and is well on the way to being reunited with mum.

[Thanks to JD for the photograph and story}

Training session

When the miners and timber getters brought their tin and silver and red cedar from the Atherton Tablelands to the coast, they loaded it into bullock carts and hauled it along a dirt track to Port Douglas. That was not the only route to harbour — pack mules also negotiated a precipitous track that followed the gorge of the Mulgrave River* — but it was the only way to shift heavy loads.

But every wet season, the rains turned the track into a morass, bogging carts and stranding the goods. So the miners and timber getters and other Tablelanders lobbied the government for decent access. Explorer and prospector Christie Palmerston got the job of finding a suitable route up the mountains.

That barrier behind Cairns beat even Christy Palmerston, in so far as finding a track for wheels was concerned. He suggested, though, that it might be just possible to hew a railway line up along the side of the Barron Gorge.

In 1882, the Queensland Minister for Works and Mines announced the construction of the railway. Work began in May 1886.

An awe-inspiring job, especially for those days. It took five years to lay the first twenty-five miles to Myola, easily the worst section. In the gorge section of fifteen miles, a bridge under difficulties had to be built over every creek and ravine, some built over hundreds of feet of space; ninety-eight curves had to be blasted round the gorge side, fifteen tunnels blasted, huge escarpments cut from the mountain-sides. Fatalities were inseparable from such a hazardous job, illnesses and floods and landslides. But the line went through.

The railway carried goods to and from the Tablelands and tourists to the village of Kuranda, near the Barron River Falls. Kuranda Railway Station opened in June 1891 and was upgraded in 1915. Queensland Railways had always intended it to be a show station, a spectacular destination in the rainforest. The current planting scheme is similar to the original. (Perhaps not the pitcher plants on Platform 1.) The buildings are also little changed.










A road was constructed during World War II. This road now brings huge numbers of day-trippers up the Range to the village, but the railway remains a popular way to travel**.

Excerpts from Ion Idriess (1958) Back of Cairns.


View Larger Map
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* At the time, it was described as 'the worst road in the world'. The Gillies Highway follows the old track. It has 263 bends over 19km. And is probably marvelously scenic if you are brave enough to take your eyes off the road.

** I was not wearing an anorak when I took photos of the rolling stock.

Angry

Never seen a tree kangaroo in the flesh? Here's a chance to see one close up.



This is what happens when people let their dogs roam.

[Thanks to JD for the photo.]

Tropical moon

Taken a few weeks ago as the Wet Season fizzled out. Handheld, 400mm, some ridiculous ISO.

Brush turkey beauty parlour

Because they like to look their best.

Although intermittently annoying (yesterday, one of the little devils tried to snatch a sandwich out of my hand while I was standing at the back door), the turkeys have a certain charm. Now that the Dry is here, they are making the most of the opportunity to bathe in the dust and sun.

Dust bathing birds excavate a nice turkey-sized hollow in the soil and then use their wings to scoop dust onto their backs.





When it's time to move, they will stand up and shake themselves like a wet dog to get rid of the excess. As with the soggy pooch, It's not a good idea to be standing nearby when this happens.

As well as getting dust in the feathers, they also like to rub their necks on the soil.



Catching the midday rays is another favourite turkey pasttime. How it's done appears to depend on how secure the bird feels. Most often, they'll just plonk themselves down in a sunny spot and lean a bit to one side so they can catch the sun on the tum.



If there's no one looking, a turkey will roll onto its back to get the full benefit.



Although this behaviour is not without its hazards. This turkey decided to roll over on a downward slope. I don't have the next shot, but you can imagine the feathery panic as gravity took over.


At least when they're doing this, they aren't trying to steal my lunch.