A warm north-westerly wind brought an early surprise at the very start of string – a flight of summerbirds.
Usually I see summerbirds – more formally known as black-faced cuckoo shrikes – a little later in the season and their arrival made my day
I had been focused on the domestic migration, watching eastern spinebills and crescent honeyeaters moving through the Queens Domain on their way from the coast to breeding areas on kunanyi/Mt Wellington.
The summerbirds make a longer journey, travelling from Queensland through New South Wales and then Victoria to finally cross Bass Strait on their way to nesting areas in the dry eucalypt woodlands of the state.
They are large, graceful birds – about the size of a green rosella – and are clothed in a light-grey plumage. As their name suggests, they carry a charcoal-black mask on their faces.
I was alerted to a small flock of them by their distinct call, a soft churring. Identification of the summerbirds is also aided by a curious habit they have of shuffling their wings upon landing on a branch, a habit which gives them another name in country districts, that of “shufflewing”.
The birds are found across most of Australia, and because many are migratory – particularly from southern regions of the country – their return is as big a harbinger of spring as the return of the welcome swallows from northern wintering areas.
The summerbirds tend to be unobtrusive, unlike the noisy woodland parrots which share much of their range. Bird-lovers who take time to study them are captivated by their slender and elegant appearance, to say nothing of their subtle plumage.
The cuckoo-strikes are a friend of the nation’s farmers because they largely feed on insect pests, often snatching winged species in the air. Here another unusual feature of their behaviour, a dipping and loping undulating flight, comes into play.
Black-faced cuckoo shrikes were misnamed along with many other Australian species when the continent was first explored by European naturalists. They are neither cuckoos or shrikes, but simply resemble these totally different species in Europe.
I’ve never found summerbirds nesting on the Domain but their early arrival, and their territorial songs, indicate they might this year. The nest is remarkably small for the size of the bird. It is a shallow saucer of sticks and bark, bound together with cobwebs. Both partners construct it and care for the young birds.
The summerbirds represented another of the summer migrants to tick off a little earlier than usual. They followed the cuckoos, the striated pardalotes and the swallows.
Now I’m searching the skies for the next scheduled arrivals, tree martins and dusky woodswallows.
The steady flow of birds from the mainland builds throughout September before a species which is always the last to arrive, the satin flycatcher, turns up. This can be as late as early November.