Wednesday 22 June 2011

Winter wildlife

I'm not sure if it's down to the cold weather, but the wildlife has been acting very strangely lately. Yesterday, a spotted catbird flew into the house and started inspecting the kitchen. That's the sort of behaviour I expect from Macleay's honeyeaters, but catbirds — big and bolshie as they are around other birds — do not usually get too close to people.

That incident was followed closely by a female Victoria's riflebird mugging a little shrike-thrush for the frog the latter had just uncovered. The riflebird flew away with the still struggling frog in its beak. The shrike-thrush looked as pissed off as an animal with no eyebrows or lips can look.

Later, I almost trod on an adult coppery brushtail possum that had decided not only to forage by day, but also to do it around my door step.


And last night, every possum in the rainforest was running across the roof and up and down the ladder and then doing bunyip impersonations under my bedroom window at three in the morning. Fortunately, I can sleep through a putative bunyip attack, so it wasn't too much of a problem.

Anyway, today was quieter. But the possums continued behaving oddly. This young fellow was wandering around at lunchtime.


He may have regretted his daring when he realised that he was on Candid Camera.



Possum paws are equipped with very sharp claws that are useful for climbing. (A few months ago, one of the adult possums managed to get a purchase on an aluminium frame and almost scrambled into the living room.)


Their hind paws exhibit syndactyly (fused toes), like those of kangaroos and many other marsupials. One of the adults (probably the fellow in the first pic) likes to climb up the yard broom that's leaning by the back door, hold on tight by his hind paws and reach across to the door handle. Because it's a sliding door, he can't quite get it open. But every night, he gives ir a go. (And I let him. This will end badly, I'm sure.)


So I left the young possum to doze among the azaleas. He didn't last very long because the bridled honeyeaters took exception to his presence and did their own bunyip impersonation on a branch above him.


The last I saw of him, he was toddling off into the forest to find a quieter spot.