Pacific Black Duck unaware of her luck

 Pacific Black Duck unaware of her luck      With Mallards upriver she's had no truck

 But across the Tasman they've run amuck       And all Blacks (Greys there) are come unstuck

Messing about along the river's banks

Ratty, Mole and Co loved messing about in boats. Without boat, next best is messing about on riverbanks. One river running through Townsville City, so been messing about along Ross River. Above, female Magpie Goose preening in paperbark growing alongside a footbridge.

Waiting hungrily below, Short-necked River Turtle (a natural Greeny), one of scores on view (and thousands along the Ross). Stand for a while looking down on the river and the turtles hurtle (speed is relative) closer in hope of easy feed.

Downriver the other day, Pacific Black Duck adult looks caring but all is not as it seems. Duckling should have been elsewhere with seven siblings and parents but had become separated, maybe ducknapped. It paddled off upstream alone soon after in search of family.

Also alone one day in the same area, where Aplins Weir holds the freshwater Ross back from the tidal Ross, Australian Pelican looks ever bit as content to be on the river as ever were Ratty, Mole and Co. Musn't be too boyhoodish though: paperbarks good, willows bad generally for Australian rivers.

Plucky duck merits portrait

Pacific Black Duck deserves quick portrait. Don't know how loss occurred, but bird lacks much of left wing. Paddles about by itself, often sharing space on the lagoon shore with Darters. Over the last month it's remained typically wary though gradually accepting limited morning chats with me. Happily there are no 'nature lovers' clutching bags of bread, so the bird continues to healthily fend for itself. Looks well enough, doesn't it?

Plenty of Wandering Whistling Ducks (and Plumed Whistling Ducks) on and beside the main lagoon these days. One pair of Wanderers paddled by with two ducklings straggling behind a few days ago. No sign since so the two may have fallen to predators.

Much less numerous and seldom in Tyto for long, Australian Pelican drops in to check out the fishing. Didn't hang about more than an hour before heading north with four others.

Australasian Grebe probably happy to see Pelicans depart. You never know what a bird with such an enormous maw - and a none to gentle nature - might fancy.

Quick note on September bird counts. Not many waders turned up, but overall the drying shallows and migratory season drew a few more species. Daily counts often topped 60. Rule of thumb then says 90 for week and 120 for the month. Didn't check weekly counts, but month was spot on 120, the highest of 2009.

Even the waders that did arrive have mostly gone again. Exceptions above are Sharp-tailed Sandpiper (left, usually with others of species) teaming itself with Wood Sandpiper (often solitary). Don't think Sharpie will stick around long.

Making a quiet splash of life

Out and about on or near the water at Tyto, three to catch the eye. First, Buff-banded Rail (Gallirallus philippensis) looks for breakfast.

Second, solitary (by choice) Pacific Black Duck (Anas superciliosa) sets off to chew a bit of botany.

Third, Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys) wanders out on to the water lilies.

Bully for male Cicadabird

Male Cicadabird (Coracina tenuirostris) popped suddenly into view today and tormented me for the next 30 minutes by sticking almost entirely to deeply shaded upper reaches of trees in a small grove near the first Tyto lagoon. My cause wasn't helped by a Spangled Drongo determined - as they so often are - to bully the newcomer.

Cicadabirds seldom show up here in pairs. Males are rarely seen, but one or two females can often be found in the cooler months. Some of the birds are breeding migrants in southeast Australia and winter in the north and up into Papua New-Guinea, others are sedentary across the Top End. In my experience only birds in the south sound anything like a cicada.

Catch of the day definitely goes to this Black-necked Stork (Ephippiorhynchus asiaticus). Even from afar the fish dangling from the huge bill was impressive. But the head was gobbled down before I got close enough for the picture. Interesting butchery technique. The bird dropped the fish on the ground and stabbed violently at it. Rough shaking followed. Thus one large fish (species unknown) became three great mouthfuls.

Offering itself as a possible mouthful, a sneaky Pacific Black Duck tries the 'broken wing' splash and dash as it seeks to draw me away from (unsuspected) nest or ducklings hidden in a patch of flooded grass. Just as well most predators are not alert to such giveaway signals. Instincts are not all they're cracked up to be!