In Singapore, Baya Weavers (Ploceus philippinus) build their nests in colonies of 20-30, preferring coconut palms or low trees. The nest is expertly weaved from long thin strands of leaf blades that can come from the Guinea grass (Panicum maximum), strips of palm fronds or other tough fibres. A completed nest looks like an upside down flask with a downward pointing entrance chute. Within the swollen portion is the nesting area.

The nest has been described as: “a stocking hung by the toe, the heel enlarged to receive the eggs, while the entrance and exit are made through the leg.”

The nest hangs on a long thin structure (up to a metre long) tightly woven with grass leaves, swinging freely in the wind. This ensures that it is not easily accessible to potential predators, either from above or from neighbouring branches. Thus they are attached to the terminal of palm fronds or from the ends of branches. The birds recycle old nests, repairing any damage before reusing them. This can be easily detected by the colour of the fresh and dried grass blades.

The male bird builds the nest half way after which he tries to seduce the female by his courtship displays. If the female is interested, she will examine the uncompleted nest, after which he will complete building it or both will work together.

Sometimes the birds may bring in lumps of wet clay that are stuck to the interior wall of the nest.

Once the female lays her eggs, the male will move on and build another nest, leaving the female totally to herself to incubate the eggs and raise the chicks. However, there are reports that this may not always be so - males have been observed bringing insects for the nestlings.

Text by YC and images by KC Tsang.

R. Subaraj has this to add: Have you heard the story about the female Baya Weaver snipping off the connecting cord if not satisfied after inspection, so the male has to start from scratch? Do you know if this is true for sure.

An excellent account of the nesting behaviour of Baya Weavers by Graeme Guy of the Nature Photographic Society (Singapore) can be viewed here.

Thanks to a lead by Morten Strange, I was able to record the nesting of a pair of Scarlet-backed Flowerpeckers (Dicaeum cruentatum) and the antics of the two nestlings during April this year.

The nest was an oval pouch woven from grass blades, plant fibres and narrow dried leaves. There was a large opening near the upper end. The inner surface was comfortably lined with white plant fibres, probably floss from the fruits of the kapok tree (Ceiba pentandra). The entire structure was firmly attached to a slender outer branch of an Horsfieldia tree whose numerous flower buds were about to burst into blooms. The nest hanged between the two ranks of large leaves that provided shade from the rain and sun.

Peeping out of the large opening were two large nestlings, with darkish heads and prominently large orange beaks. The parent bird was around somewhere, tick-tick-ticking all the time. Whenever I imitated the sound, the two nestlings immediately opened their beaks to expose the reddish inner lining of the buccal area.

I managed to observe only the female bird feeding the nestlings, bringing them green mistletoe fruits that the babies eagerly gobbled. I was told by Morten that the male bird was extremely shy, not wanting to approach the nest whenever there was someone around. This was not so with the female bird, who fed the nestlings at the rate of once every few minutes, even when I was below the tree. And Morten detected a distinct difference in the calls of the two sexes.

The parent birds regularly removed large faecal sacs that were packed with green mistletoe seeds. Apparently such a service was not efficient. When a parent bird removed the sac from one nestling, the other simply turned round, pointed its posterior towards the entrance and started to excrete the mucous-covered seeds one by one.

Checking the ground below, I was surprised to find masses of mistletoe seeds coated with mucilage lying on the ground.

The nestlings had since fledged, leaving the empty nest hanging from the branch between the rows of leaves. However, a few days later the empty nest disappeared.

Text and images by YC.

The location: A small piece of wasteland around Eng Neo bordering the Pan Island Expressway on one side and a sprawling low-rise housing apartments on the other.

The vegetation: A young secondary growth dominated by clumps of palms and bamboos overgrown with mainly exotic weeds. A few scattered emergent old albizia (Paraserianthes falcataria) trees.

The cast of characters: Hill Myna (Gracula religiosa), Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus), Collared Kingfisher (Todiramphus chloris), Dollarbird (Eurystomus orientalis), Greater Racket-tailed Drongo (Dicrurus paradisus) and Long-tailed Parakeet (Psittacula longicauda), Rainbow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus), among others.

The attraction of the area: The presence of a few tall and old albizia trees. These trees provide excellent perches for birds, perches where they can get a bird’s eye view of the surrounding area. These old trees, as well as at least one dead and semi-rotting tree trunk are full of cavities, natural as well as otherwise, that many of these birds nest in. Also, the overgrown vegetation is rich in invertebrate fauna, besides providing fruits, like melastoma (Melastome malabathricum) and white-leafed fig (Ficus grossularioides).

The focal point: A rotting albizia trunk that is infested with termites. Half way up the trunk is a number of cavities, with more at the top.

This rotting trunk is the focal point of many birds during the early morning and late evening. A pair of Collared Kingfishers was nesting in the cavity around the centre of the trunk while the upper cavities were inhabited, at different times, by Long-tailed Parakeets and Dollarbirds, among others.

With these different species congregating around this single rotting tree trunk, it is inevitable that conflicts will occur. And occurred they did. In subsequent postings we will bring to you the various dramas that unfolded in this very interesting area, small as it is, in urban Singapore.

PS: This is also the area where a pair of Great (Buceros bicronis) and Rhinoceros Hornbills (B. rhinoceros) was prospecting a potential nesting hole in a living albizia tree. But that is a story already told.

Thanks to Ng Bee Choo and Eng Tow who introduced me to the site. Text and images by YC, except Great Hornbill image by Meng and Melinda Chan.

Tingfang, an undergraduate of the National Technological University, found traces of plant materials around her clothes pegs one day in March 2006.

The very next day when she returned from lectures, she spied a pair of Olive-backed Sunbirds (Nectarinia jugularis) around. The pair continued building their nest every morning from about 7am and “.. their sharp yet sweet chirps served as my second alarm clock. After a week, it looks more like a nest… I have seen how the birdies worked their ass… or probably their beaks off to get this up… now I have a worry - will the cleaner clear it away?”

“After completing the nest, the birds flew in and out of the nest. Sometimes they made a lot of noise.. .. (hmm.. wondering what they are doing inside.. HmmMmm.. *roll eyes, drum fingers*).. can’t get too near to the nest else they would fly away… usually I could get slightly nearer during the night though.”

At night there would always be one bird in the nest, which she presumed to be the female. On12th April she found two eggs inside the nest. While the female was incubating the eggs, the male visited and brought food for her. He would always be “hopping around.” Seven days later, she noticed the male “suddenly became very noisy” and both birds started chirping. There in the nest was a “wormy thing hatched out from the egg… an orange wormy like thingy.” It was a blind and naked nestling. The other egg hatched the very next day.

The female bird stayed in the nest for most of the next two days while the male was busy foraging for food. By the third day both birds were busy looking for food to feed the nestlings.

Although blind at birth, the nestlings opened their beaks wide at the slightest noise or vibration, expecting food from the parents. By age five they had their eyes opened. Feathers developed around the ninth day. By day 13 the nestlings had grown too big for the nest and a side opening appeared.

Fifteen days after hatching Tingfang returned to her unit to find the nestlings gone. They must have fledged. But the nest was also gone. Only the peg and traces of nesting materials remained. Thinking that the nest with the nestlings inside must have fallen, she panicked and looked frantically around in the units below.

Naturally Tingfang felt sad and empty inside. Who wouldn’t? She had been keeping an eye on the birds for weeks, peeping at them to see their progress. And now, they were gone.

Our bird specialist R. Subaraj is of the opinion that the nestlings must have been taken, nest and all, by some predator bird, as this was a time when their presence was conspicuous.

Thank you Tingfang for agreeing to share your account and images with us; and to Goh Hanlin for alerting us to her blog.

You can also log in to her blog for a more personal account.

The Black-naped Oriole (Oriolus chinensis) is a very distinctive bird of gardens and parks. Its bright yellow plumage and black nape make it easy to recognise. Its loud and fluty whistle is similarly distinctive. It is a common resident as well as a winter visitor.

The nest is a neat pouch-like structure made up of plant materials like thin pliable stems, roots, grass blades, slender twigs and fibres. These are intricately weaved together into a nest with parts of the rim firmly attached round slender supporting branches high up the tree. There are usually two bluish-white eggs covered with brown spots. It has been reported that the female is the one actively building the nest. In some species the male merely sits nearby, encouraging the female along. But we need to confirm such behaviour in this species.

Cheong Weng Chun came across such a nest in Taman Wetland Putrajaya situated north of the Malaysian capital city of Kuala Lumpur on 5th March 2006.

There were two nestlings in the nest. This was the first time he actually saw the successful hatching of the eggs, his earlier two encounters were failures. Eight days later he saw the two nestlings grown into cute chicks ready to fledge. The very next day both young birds made their maiden flights. He spotted one on a tree some distance from the nest, with the parents feeding it regularly. “Where’s the other one?” he wondered.

Text and images by Cheong Weng Chun.