Beginning around the middle of last month (May) some of the tracks around the village had patches of colourful but strangely shaped fruit on the ground. These flattened orange to yellow fruit often have a single seed stuck in the middle. While most rainforest trees are difficult to distinguish based solely on the trunk or leaves, their fruit and flowers can often be distinctive and render them easily identified. Such is the case with McIntyre’s Boxwood (Xanthophyllum octandrum). The best example I have found (although it may now be finished fruiting) is on the H-track just uphill (towards Lennox Crescent) from the old mining test pit and creek lookout. Two mature trees stand near the track (on the left as you face uphill).
MacIntyre’s Boxwood is endemic (i.e restricted to) Queensland, occurring in rainforests from Cape York to the central Qld coast1. Flowering occurs in early summer but the flowers are fairly inconspicuous. The fruit are round, marble-sized and green to pale yellow. When ripe they split open (dehisce) while still attached to the tree to reveal a dark seed attached to the now flattened internal yellow flesh. At this stage the fruit are fairly conspicuous on the tree, and even more so on the dark leaf litter of the forest floor once they have fallen.
Two mature trees on the H-track. The trunk is relatively smooth with no buttress.
Ripe fruit are just discernible in the canopy of the two trees
The fruit is eaten by Cassowaries. The trees are slow growing and large specimens are likely to be very old. The timber has been used commercially and was commonly used to make wooden rulers.
While citrus trees around Paluma are full of fruit at present, providing sustenance more to the Cockatoos than human residents, there is also a native rainforest tree/shrub that is currently laden with large round fruit that are beginning to turn yellow or bright orange. From a distance the fruit looks very much like an orange. This is the Native Gardenia or Yellow Mangosteen (Atractocarpus fitzalanii – previously known as Randia fitzalanii1)
Native Gardenia is a native under-story tree in eastern Queensland rainforests. The star-shaped white flowers appear in spring and (unsurprisingly) look at bit like simple gardenia flowers (they share the same family) and have a pleasant perfume.
The fruit is edible and is reported to be good bush tucker2. It can be eaten raw or used in salads, tarts, cakes or other deserts. In fact one author reports that it is one of the few plants that was consumed for is aphrodisiac properties!1 Cassowaries also eat the fruit, but the literature is silent on whether these birds also use it to enhance their reproductive drive. Perhaps you should exercise caution if you see a large male Cassowary with a gleam in its eye when you visit our local grove!
The Native Gardenia is fairly commonly sold in nurseries for its lush foliage and perfumed flowers. The fruit can be quite sweet in some trees but this is quite variable. I confess I have not sampled the fruit but Wilfred had a quick taste of the one at Jourama Falls and found it unremarkable.
Everyone’s heard of the ‘Yellow Brick Road’, but have you seen Paluma’s Green Brick Road?…………Ok, so it’s not a road, but it is a winding driveway in the brightest shade of green!.
At No. 13 Lennox Crescent the paved drive-way is covered in thick green moss, which at certain times of the day and at differing lights appears to be fluorescent green.
While many Paluma residents lament the endless cleaning of mould, mildew, algae, lichen, moss and many other creepy-crawly plants and organisms from inside and outside their homes, the moss at No. 13 Lennox Crescent is a great example of how attractive these spreading, growing mediums can be.
Residents John and Kay report that numerous attempts over many years to clean the moss from the drive-way have proved fruitless. The moss always regrows and it has won out in the end. Now, they just leave it to grow and thrive in the damp cool mountain air. In places, it forms a dense mat of green and is spongy under foot to walk on.
The drive-way at No. 13 Lennox Crescent is no ordinary drive-way. John says that this access track was first cleared by the Americans during World War 2. John and Kay paved the drive-way some 30 years ago with recycled bricks they got from other Paluma residents, Chris and Merle.
If you follow this ‘Green Brick Road’ you will just end up at John and Kay’s place, but next time you take a walk along Lennox Crescent take a moment to admire their unique and very green moss-covered drive-way!
An early morning walk to Mc Clellands’s Lookout at Paluma is always a treat, but especially so at this time of the year. With the humidity and cloudy skies of summer and the wet season now gone, the early mornings are crisp and clear, without a cloud in the sky.
For the first time this year, the temperature dipped to single digits on Sunday morning (12 May) with a cool 9 degrees in the village. Gone is the heat-haze of summer, so that the view from the Lookout is particularly special. So clear is the view of the coast and offshore islands that you can clearly see their outline and you can even identify each individual island – especially with the assistance of the interpretive signage from the Lookout’s best vantage point.
There is no better place at Paluma village to sit and contemplate the view, whilst thawing out and soaking up the warmth of the sun’s early morning rays. On Sunday morning the visit to the Lookout was enhanced by the sound of dingoes calling from somewhere downslope, deep within the rainforest. With the cool clear air, the eerie sound of their calls seemed to carry for miles.
A cup of lemon myrtle tea and a slice of mandarin and almond cake at the Rainforest Inn topped off a rather delightful early morning stroll.
Just another day in the paradise we know as Paluma.
During this long weekend, the birds at our feeder have become more and more numerous, with Satin Bowerbirds making their first appearance for the year, and Catbirds sneaking in at dawn and dusk. But it is the Rainbow Lorikeets that have dominated the show. Since we first put up our feeder in 1996, I have recorded the same 10 species coming in for a feed (see list below). The species composition may vary at other feeders depending on the food offered (we consistently use dates, softened and mashed up in water). Originally, Lorikeets were almost never at our feeder, but since cyclone Yasi the Rainbow Lorikeets are often a dominant visitor, with the occasional Scaley-breasted Lorikeet thrown into the mix
Yesterday morning and this morning the Rainbow Lorikeets came in numbers I have never seen before. I suspect the entire population of the village was at or around my feeder. The picture below reminds me of the old competition one saw at fairs where you had to guess the number of jellybeans in a large glass jar. I reckon there are 24 in the first photo and 27 in the second (both images have been cropped to include the central mass of birds only). Any other estimates?
Here is my list of birds that I have recorded at my feeder (the last two I try to discourage). I would be interested to hear from other residents who could add to this list. Please also include what type of food you put out.
Among the colourful visitors to my garden recently was this beautiful female Orchard Swallowtail Butterfly, (Papilio aegeus). This species is also known as the Large Citrus Butterfly because of the preference of its larvae for feasting on citrus leaves. The butterfly feeds on the nectar of plants, particularly lantana. This one however was resting on a flower-laden choko vine.
The Orchard Swallowtail Butterfly is found
in Eastern Australia, ranging from Victoria to Cape York and into PNG. Its usual habitat is lowland rainforest, dry
eucalypt woodlands, orchards and suburban gardens so it is not common to see
one here in Paluma. The female lays eggs
on the underside of leaves of host trees and the eggs hatch a week later. The larvae are patterned in green, brown and
a creamy colour and look remarkably like bird droppings: no doubt an excellent
camouflage from potential predators.
The female with a wing span of about 105 to
110 mm is slightly larger and more colourful than the male but both attract
attention when fluttering through the garden.
This butterfly is sometimes considered a pest because of its habit of
feeding on citrus leaves in suburban gardens.
There has understandably been a lot of talk about rain and rainfall records over the last few months. While the daily falls that Len Cook recorded in February (see previous post and also additional info at Higgins Storm Chasing) are impressive and probably unprecedented (over 2.5 metres in 11 days!), it begs the question of how many records were broken in Paluma this wet-season and just how wet Paluma is compared to other areas in the north (and elsewhere).
For those who are unfamiliar with the quote alluded to in the title of this post, the famous author Mark Twain once remarked that there are 3 types of lies: Lies, Damned Lies, and statistics. This post may serve to underscore his point that you can prove just about anything you like if you carefully choose your statistics.
We now have 50 yrs of rainfall records for the Ivy Cottage BoM station (1969-2018) but due to some months with missing data, there are gaps in the records of annual totals. Fortunately, the late Roy Mackay kept his own records and I have been able to use his graph to fill in the missing annual totals (1992,1996-99). Lets start with how this year’s wet season in Paluma compares to the long-term record. Well, we have had the wettest February on record with 1986.7mm. In addition this wet-season from November ’18 to April ’19, even though we have no official data for April, has already been the the wettest on record with 4,636.9mm for November to March. Whether or not the 11 day accumulated total of 2571 is also a record breaker would require a deeper analysis of daily totals over the last 50 years – not something I, or anyone else detectable from a google search has been prepared to do. Nevertheless this year was a record breaking wet season in more than one way. We have already had enough rainfall from Jan-March to exceed 90% of the annual records, so there is also a reasonable chance that 2019 will be the wettest on record.
While we are discussing the long-term record for Paluma on its own, it is worth asking whether or not there have been any obvious trends or patterns in our rainfall. The graph below indicates that there has been no appreciable increase or decrease in mean rainfall over the last 50 years, but there does appear to be regular cycles of wet and dry periods with rainfall peaks separated by 7-9 years.
Charlie Allen recently forwarded me a graph from a now closed BoM station at Mt Spec (somewhere near the summit). The records go from 1933 to 1967 with no overlap between it and the Ivy Cottage station. Interestingly, the records indicate much higher rainfalls at Mt Spec. The median annual rainfall for the 32 years of complete data was 3324mm, which is almost a meter more than Ivy Cottage (2355mm). Also there were 8 years at Mt Spec with annual falls greater than 4m (25% of all years) and of these 3 exceeded 5m. At Paluma, we have only had 4 years exceeding 4m annual rainfall (12.5%) and none that exceeded 5m. The Mt Spec record also shows a clear decline in rainfall during the recording period. These data from Mt Spec raise the question of whether rainfall at Paluma was also higher in the 30’s to 50’s with a subsequent decline. We may never know.
Do any of these new records mean that Paluma has toppled our two wettest towns in Australia (Babinda and Tully) off their pedestals? The short answer is no. After scratching around amongst the totals, I did find that our new record for February is higher than the highest February rainfall in Tully but not for Babinda. However I can report that our highest daily rainfall ever recorded in Paluma (634mm in January 1972) is higher than any daily totals for Tully or Babinda! Also it is possible that our recent 11 day cumulative total exceeds anything recorded there (it’s too much work to check on this!). But before we crack open a bottle of bubbly, bear in mind that having had one exceptional wet day, or series of days doesn’t really make us generally wetter than towns with much higher averages (see comparison table below). And besides, it turns out that other places in Australia have had much wetter single days – Crohamhurst in SE Qld recorded 907mm on a single day in 1893, and if we look globally, La Reunion holds the world record for daily rainfall with a staggering 1.825 metres in 24 hours.
If all of my efforts to find some way in which Paluma can be considered uniquely “wet” seem a bit over-the- top, spare a thought for Babinda and Tully.
In terms of the key statistics I have seen, Babinda easily exceeds Tully in terms of average annual rainfall (4.287 vs 4.092 metres per year) and the same goes for median rainfall, making it an easy pick for the wettest town in Australia. In recognition of this humble achievement Babinda has placed a small golden gumboot in the window of its post office . Not to be outdone, Tully (in the spirit of overcompensation) has argued that it has the record for the wettest year ever (7.898m in 1950) and has erected a massive 7.9m high golden gumboot in a local green space.
Ironically neither the town of Babinda or Tully come close to being the wettest “place” in Australia. That title goes to the nearby unpopulated summit of Mt Bellenden Ker, which boasts a massive annual average of 8.12 metres and a record year of 12.46 meters in 1973. Makes Paluma seem positively arid in comparison!
Some recent, and unexpected encounters with Red-bellied (or Common) Black Snakes have prompted me (Colwyn Campbell) to write this article about the slithery reptile. I regularly meet these creatures in my garden and whilst out walking. My most recent encounter was last week at 7.30 in the morning after a night of heavy rain.
I was sweeping leaves off the front veranda and had left the door open so that Flossie (my dog) could follow me out. Becoming aware of activity behind me I turned to see, between me and the door, Flossie engaged in a vigorous pas de deux with a very large red-bellied black snake. Without thinking, I used the broom to drag Flossie close enough to grab her by the collar and throw her inside the house, while at the same time trying to fend off the snake and foil its apparent intention of entering the house. I then leapt inside and slammed the door. Poor thing – it probably only needed a warm, dry place to escape from the cold and rain-sodden garden. But I didn’t want it inside my house! I watched it coil up near my firewood box, then promptly rang my neighbour (Len Cook) who sent the snake on its way by turning the hose on it. This is the largest red-bellied black snake I have seen in my area so naturally, I am concerned that Flossie does not meet up with it again.
The red-bellied black snake is so much part of the Paluma rainforest environment that most of us take its presence for granted. Gardeners know to make a few thrusts with a rake to move snoozing serpents away before starting to weed the garden, but what do we really know about these beautiful (but to some, evil and rather terrifying) creatures?
Red-bellied black snake basking in the sun in a Paluma garden (Photo by Jamie Oliver).
The red-bellied black snake is a member of the Elapidae Family – venomous snakes with fixed poison fangs at the front of the upper jaw. They occur mostly in the tropics, however the red-bellied black snake ranges through much of south-eastern Australia and up to the Atherton Tableland, inhabiting well-watered areas such as woodlands, swamps, creeks, river banks – and Paluma gardens. Its preferred diet is frogs and small lizards, but fish and small mammals may also be included on the menu. A handsome creature, growing to an average of 1.25 metres, the snake’s sleek, glossy black scales shimmer on the upper surface, while the underbelly can vary from a brilliant red to a pale, creamy pink.
Although the red-bellied black snake’s venom is capable of causing significant illness, fatalities in humans are rare, its bite being less venomous than other Australian elapids, such as the king brown snake or taipan. The venom contains neurotoxins, myotoxins, coagulants and has haemolytic properties. Fortunately, the red-bellied black snake is not an aggressive species and will move out of the way rather than face an unpleasant encounter. When provoked, it will assume a striking stance, hiss loudly and flatten the neck and body in a display that is mostly bluff.
That Flossie has not been bitten during the course of her many confrontations with black snakes is proof to me of their docile nature.
Red-bellied black snake at Paluma (Photo by Jamie Oliver).
Snakes entered Australia millions of years ago from Asia, probably when the continental land masses were still joined. Two main groups of Elapids developed – one group comprised small nocturnal species with specialized feeding habits; and the other group, larger snakes, diurnal (active by day) and with more general diets. This group includes some of the deadliest snakes in the world: brown snakes, black snakes and taipans.
Live-bearing arose in two different lineages of Australian elapids. In one lineage, only a single species is viviparous: the common red-bellied black snake. It is alone among its closest relatives in bearing live young and because of this was able to expand the range of the genus into cooler, south-eastern parts of the country, whereas most egg-laying elapids such as taipans and king brown snakes, are found in warmer or tropical regions.
In bearing live young the female has the advantage of a shorter pregnancy. Eggs retained inside the mother’s body are kept warmer and develop faster than eggs laid in the earth, where in cold climates a low soil temperature impedes development of the embryo, even to the extent of preventing hatching before the arrival of the frosts of autumn. Live bearing benefits the young: enabling them to be born much earlier in the season, thus allowing them to feed and find shelter before the colder weather arrives. The baby snakes are born in a clutch of between ten and twenty, each encased in an amniotic sac from which they emerge within a few minutes ready to fend for themselves.
Black snakes like to maintain a body temperature close to 30 degrees Celsius. Many factors will determine how quickly a snake heats up: the intensity of solar radiation, wind, air temperature and the amount of the snake’s surface that is exposed to the sun. They can regulate their temperature by selecting a warm or cool position to lie, often by moving only a few centimetres, from lawn to beneath a shrub, for example. The snake can position its body so that only a small part is exposed but the warmed blood will carry heat to the rest of the body. If food is scarce, the snake benefits by being inactive and cool rather than expending energy and heat by hunting.
In spring, black snakes emerge and bask in the morning, heating up rapidly. They maintain their optimum body temperature all day even though the air temperature may drop below 20 degrees. In summer however, they generally do not bask, even if the morning is cool and their body temperature is quite low. Rather than heat up immediately they choose to remain cooler. Black snakes are actually cooler when the weather is hotter.
Pregnant females bask longer than non-pregnant females as warmth accelerates development of the embryos and is advantageous to both the mother and the young. An interesting observation is made by herpetologist Rick Shine (whose excellent book Australian Snakes: A Natural History, I have delved into for most of this information regarding black snakes). He describes the gathering together in summer of small groups, of two to six pregnant females when near to giving birth. They share a common night-time retreat, usually a burrow, and emerge together in the morning to bask. Female black snakes in late pregnancy do not feed so they remain in the vicinity of their burrow for weeks.
Although tending not to roam far from their own territory during the year, males in the spring mating season may travel up to 1 km in a day in search of a female. That is when you are most likely to come across one on the Paluma walking tracks!
Snakes have an undeservedly bad reputation, starting from the Biblical serpent who tempted Eve, to the wicked Mrs Black Snake who menaced Snugglepot and Cuddlepie. Other cultures have revered the snake and for many it was regarded as a symbol of knowledge and wisdom. Next time you come across a red-bellied black snake in your garden, pause and admire it for the beautiful and complex creature it is.
Article by Colwyn Campbell
References & More Information:
Rick Shine – Australian Snakes: A Natural History and Graeme Gow – Complete Guide to Australian Snakes.
This drawing of a red-bellied black snake in 1794 was said to be the first scientific illustration of an Australian snake. (Image reproduced from Zoology and Botany of New Holland (1794) from an article on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red-bellied_black_snake).
A young Riflebird displaying on the ‘stump’ at No. 13 Mt Spec Road
Well, it was a sad day on Sunday 31 March 2019 at No. 13 Mt Spec Road, Paluma. I have to report that the world famous stump and the dancing perch for many a Victoria’s Riflebird over nearly two decades – is no more. The tree trunk finally succumbed on Sunday morning to the natural elements, wood rot and ongoing decay, to collapse beyond repair.
The story goes………….
When Andy and Ann Bishop built the cedar cottage at No. 13 Mt Spec Road nearly 20 years ago they wanted to maintain as many of the native rainforest trees as possible on their ‘bush block’. They felled only enough trees to allow them to build their dream house amongst the rainforest.
Don Battersby reports that it was about 2004, well after the house was completed that one of the sizeable trees close to the house presented some problems. As the tree continued to grow, the foliage was intruding onto the roof and the verandah. Andy decided to lop the tree, leaving only the tree trunk standing – some 5 metres tall with a flat-top within arm’s length of the verandah.
It was not too long before the local Riflebirds noticed this purpose-built, elevated dancing platform in the canopy. Thus, it soon became a hive of activity for performances and courtship rituals during the breeding season (July-December). Every year since, countless birds have displayed on this stump and it continued to be visited and utilised – right up until it collapsed last Sunday.
Adult male Riflebirds regularly used the stump for their courtship displays.
The stump at No. 13 has been a draw-card for locals, visitors, bird enthusiasts and photographers from around Australia and the world. Brian O’Leary’s superb photographs and video of the Paluma Riflebird’s courtship rituals were captured on this very stump. (These images are included on the Birds of Paluma DVD). Indeed, some years ago Sir David Attenborough called in at No. 13 to view the Riflebirds.
Many a leisurely Sunday morning at No. 13 has been (pleasantly) interrupted in the early hours by enthusiastic bird photographers dropping in to see if the Riflebirds are displaying on the stump!
Quite remarkably, I made the decision to buy the house at No. 13 largely based on this stump! It was a rather chilly Sunday morning in May 2016 when I first visited Ann and Andy to look at the house. I walked onto the verandah and soon after my arrival the Riflebirds landed on that stump and started displaying. I decided there and then that this was the house for me! At that stage, I had not even been inside to look at the interior of the house. Quite an expensive stump really….!!
It was about 18 months ago that it became clear that the tree trunk was virtually hollow and that it was succumbing to wood rot and decay. With the expert assistance of Don Battersby and Brian O’Leary (who were lamenting its inevitable loss as much as I was) we undertook some repair and remediation works. Don put a strong steel brace around the tree trunk, attaching it to the verandah to provide some much-needed support and stability. This worked well for a year or so. Riflebirds continued to use the platform, even though the dance floor was getting smaller and the trunk had started to wobble quite considerably when the dance moves became too frantic or enthusiastic.
The steel brace that Don placed around the tree trunk for support during its decline.
In more recent times and especially since the relentless rainfall this wet season, my frequent inspections had revealed that further repairs would be fruitless. It was going, going, going and on Sunday the tree trunk collapsed at the base. It was gone.
Beyond repair…….
But this story doesn’t end here…….
The search is now on for a replacement tree trunk. With the help of a certain local timber-cutter we hope to find a 5 metre tall straight and solid tree trunk that we can erect and secure in the same place. Our mission is to have the new ‘dance floor’ prepared, installed and reinstated before the commencement of the Riflebird breeding season in June-July.
Once it’s in place, we plan to host Paluma’s first ever ‘stump-warming ceremony’ – to officially welcome the Riflebirds to their new performance platform in the canopy at No. 13 Mt Spec Road.
The Eastern Water Skink (Eulamprus quoyii) is a relatively large skink, growing up to 30cm in length. These skinks are common at Paluma and are often observed in gardens and on walking tracks, mostly basking in the sun. I have skinks living in and around my garden, in the garage and on the roof of the house. Mostly I see them when I am gardening and especially when I am disturbing the mulch or leaf litter. They wait nearby, closely watching the ground for any movement of insects for them to eat. Their diet consists of small invertebrates including worms, snails, insects and spiders and smaller lizards. They have also been recorded eating ripe fruits and berries.
As their name suggests, Eastern Water Skinks love the water. They are adept swimmers and can remain submerged for some time. They tend to live close to streams, creeks and waterways, as well bushland and vegetated urban areas.
As reptiles, Eastern Water Skinks need to generate body heat by basking in the sun – they are solar-powered skinks! They also regulate their temperature by cooling off in water. I have often seen them seeking out the sprinkler on hot summer days to sit under the cooling sprays of water.
These skinks have beautiful colouration which also makes them masters of camouflage in the garden and amongst the rocks and foliage of bushland. Their upper body is dark to golden brown in colour with a coppery-olive sheen. Along their sides they are dark-brown to black in colour with whitish spots and a yellow to white stripe that runs along each side of the body from the eyes to the tail. The underside (belly) is usually pale white or grey in colour.
During the month of April, these skinks will start preparing for winter by basking in the sun for many hours and by feeding as much as possible. In winter they will brumate – this means they conserve their energy by resting much of the time and they will only leave their shelter to search for food when necessary. They do not fully hibernate, but they reduce their activity substantially compared with the warmer months of the year.
Eastern Water Skinks mate during spring and the female gives birth to live young, usually between two and nine young in each litter. The tiny baby skinks are independent from birth.
To encourage these beautiful skinks into your garden, plant some low-growing native shrubs and ground covers. Place mulch, leaf litter, rocks, logs, sticks, branches and other places for them to shelter around the garden. A water feature such as a small pond or birdbath will also encourage their visitation – with the added benefit of bringing in the birds and frogs too!
Text & Photos by Michele Bird (For Roy who inspired my interest in these skinks and who was originally going to write this article).
