Tan Teo Seng brought me what looked like a larger than usual munia’s nest (1, 2) on 7th July 2008. It had two entrances, one above, the other below. It was inadvertently cut off when his worker did some heavy pruning of his Duranta erecta shrub in his garden in Johor, Malaysia.

The structure was actually two nests, built side by side. The upper was 13 x 19 cm with an opening diameter of 3.5 cm; the lower 12 x 16 cm with a 3 cm opening. Both were ovals, the openings overhung with isolated pieces of grass inflorescence stalks.

After measurements the nests were left on a table in the porch. The top nest was empty as I could see the inside. The bottom nest appeared to be empty also.

In the evening I suddenly heard the chattering of what appeared to be a number of chicks begging for food. The sound appeared to come from the porch roof. As suddenly as it started, the sound ended a few minutes later. I was to hear the chirping on and off the next day. However, I could not locate the nesting area nor see and adult birds approaching to feed the chicks.

On the morning of 9th July, as I was standing by the two nests on the low table, the chirping suddenly started. Again it appeared to come from above. Imagine my surprise when I happened to glance at the nests and saw a chick at the entrance begging for food.

Only then did I realise that the chirping came from one of the two nests. The chicks moved out of the nest entrance to reveal another. The second chick was persuaded to emerge. There was a third but it appeared stuck inside. Only by carefully cutting the nest did I manage to extract it. There were a fourth, a fifth and a sixth. All were crammed inside the 7 x 8 cm nesting space and the cramming obviously caused the sixth and smallest chick to die. The image below (left) shows the five live chicks while the right image the sixth dead chick.

The five chicks were placed in a basin and fed with a liquid mixture of leftover boiled carrot soup. Initially, each chick was hand-held and persuaded to open its bill to accept the liquid food in drops, delivered via a dropper. In subsequent feedings a few of the chicks enthusiastically pushed their throats into the top of the dropper to receive the food.

The chicks were used to huddle together in the tight nest space (right top) and when given space to move around in the basin, still huddled together, the larger chicks climbing over the backs of the smaller.

It was easier to feed them thus. As each chick gaped, I was able to place drops of food into its throat. There was always fierce competition to be fed first. All five ate well. After each feed the throat pouch swelled (right bottom).

The scrambling, one on top of the other, apparently caused two other chicks to die on the 10th July, leaving three of the more healthy ones.

Sadly, the remaining three chicks died the next day. Did they die because of the feed? Do they need to be fed solid? Were they weakened because they were left without food during the first two days?

According to Teo Seng, he had earlier observed about six adult munias popping out one by one from the same two nests one evening when he was near the plant. He was not able to confirm from which of the two nests these birds flew out from but he was definite that they flew out of the nest/s. Otherwise all the birds would have flown off together when disturbed.

The literature mention egg dropping by female munias, meaning other females are prone to lay their eggs in an active nest. Normally about six eggs are laid per nest.

Another question that needs to be answered is whether munias roost inside empty nests. And how many birds can a nest accommodate for roosting. Field ornithologist Wang Luan Keng confirms that roosting in empty nests does occur. She further revealed that there may also be nest parasitism but this obviously did not happen here as all six chicks looked alike.

Purple Swamphen (Porphyrio porphyrio) is a colourful large bird common in freshwater wetlands of Singapore and Malaysia.

The bird is predominantly vegetarian, eating a wide range of water plants: water hyacinth (Eichhornia crassipes) (below top row: left & middle), water spangle (Salvinia molesta) (below top row: right), water lily (Nymphaea) (below bottom row: left), lotus (Nelumbo nucifera) (below bottom row: middle), and cyperus sedge (Cyperus) (below bottom row: right), among others.

It is an opportunistic feeder and will also take fish, frogs, lizards, snakes, birds, molluscs, leeches, small crabs, insects and their larvae and spiders when available.

In the image by Adrian Lim, the swamphen is seen taking a freshwater snail. Unfortunately, it is not known whether it simply swallowed it or break up the shell first before swallowing.

Image of swamphen by Adrian Lim and plants by YC.

This post is a cooperative effort between NaturePixels.org and BESG to bring the study of bird behaviour through photography to a wider audience.

I was interested in making a detailed study of these nests (left), namely the fibres and strips of leaves used and how these materials were put together. Madoc (1956) reported a total of 3,437 fine strands of grass, varying in length from 2.5 to 60 cm were used in a nest. And this was only the so-called “male” nest - the partially completed nest minus the downward pointing entrance tunnel that is usually added once the female gives her approval.

I sat down and tried to untangle the fibres, count them and measure the longer ones. For a few days I tried to do so but with partial success.

There were a total of 260 fine fibres making up the entrance tunnel. These were easily untangled as they were loosely weaved around one another and the ends never knotted (below left). The longest was 42 cm long.

Untangling the outer layer of the main nest posed much problem. Many of the fine fibres ran the length of the nest, from top to bottom. The top end of these fibres invariably originated around the nest attachment - firmly twisted round and round as well as knotted to a twig or twigs. The other end was simply knotted around other fibres at the lower part of the nest. Along the way, there were a few entanglements as other fibres were twisted round it. Others fibres ran down the nest, to turn sideways or upwards, twisting round others in the process (above right).

Many of the fine fibres ran round the nest, breaking up into two halves way down, each end again knotted, while along the way it may be twined around other fibres and narrow leaf pieces. These fibres were relatively strong and rough along the edge, having come from the edge of grass leaves.

The inner materials were mostly narrow grass strips, placed along the length of the nest and not knotted. However, they were loosely tied together here and there. These leaf pieces were mostly dried and brittle, breaking off easily. Because of the irregular knotting and brittleness of the materials, an accurate count was not possible. I stopped counting after 500, covering only the surface of the nest, not counting the 260 fibres from the tunnel.

The longest fibre was 78 cm, although most were 40-60 cm long.

The inner nest chamber was lined with feathers, below which was a layer of floss from lalang grass (Imperate cylindrical) fruits (left top). A close examination of these feathers showed a total of 26 downs, semiplumes and retrices (left bottom). In nests that were earlier examined, feathers were never found.
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Reference:
Madoc, G. C. (1956). An introduction to Malayan birds. Malayan Nature Society, Kuala Lumpur. (revised ed.)

The first thing that struck me when birding in Australia some years ago was the numerous species of aquatic birds that could easily be observed at ease at their rivers, ponds, lakes, swamps, rock edges, wetlands and seaside.

It is simply too complex to describe the large family order of Gruiformes. Instead, let us focus on just one of the sub-family- Rallidae. This cosmopolitan sub order comprises of rails, gallinules (moorhens, swamphens) and coots, ranging from sparrow-sized (15-16cm) to rooster-size (44-48cm) birds, they alone form sixteen species within which are two vagrants and three endemics.

This makes Australia a great place to be observing water birds.

And do you know that the famous New Zealand’s Takahe Notornis as seen in David Attenborough’s bird documentary series is related to the Swamphens?

My recent visit to Queensland in March coincided with hatchings of several waterbird species. It gave me the opportunity to showcase the endearing care of the Dusky Moorhens (Gallinula tenebrosa) and what it was like to be living on the precarious edge in this harsh and predacious world (top).

What makes this species different from our Common Moorhen (G. chloropus) as seen in Malaysia? While common as it sounds, it is not an aquatic bird that is frequently or easily seen close for they are shy and speed to hiding in reed-vegetation the minute they scent potential predators (left).

While both species look similar at field distance, the Dusky Moorhen is slightly larger without a white line along its flanks and its breeding season is virtually the whole year round.

Attached is an image of a breeding adult, showing colourful and rock candy feet of reddish-orange and bright red frontal shield with yellow tip at its best (right). Non-breeders/post breeders appear to have segmented olive, yellow-orange in their feet looking like they were sporadically dipped in mud.

There are still lots to learn about these birds. In the field, it remains difficult to tell the sex as they appear to look the same and there is no image specifically in current field guides that show otherwise. Much research papers are still in wanting. Perhaps further observation and documentation with ‘ornith-porny’ images of the Dusky Moorhen would be, say a decent start in determining their sex.

For now, let’s visit a small river in Queensland State to observe how they got on with their lives at the mercy of nature’s fury, as they propagated their species in their habitat.

At dawn (0615hrs), a reconnaissance along a river bank provided some interesting observation of a family of three sub-juveniles - Dusky Moorhens. They were seen huddled sleepily together on a vegetation of tattered nest, hung precariously over a boom, just before a stoned bridge. The nest appeared to have been devastated by a sudden flood of swollen, river waters after a dry spell. Half their home washed away (below left).

Further inspection by a parent showed that reinforcement was severely in wanting to keep the three oversized chicks together. It was observed this problem was solved by the parent turning up with restoration material l- what looked like a huge sheet of wet rag, dragged out from the river (above right).

“This will do… I suppose?” said a sympathetic and concerned parent as the green, algae-looking rag was dropped at the denuded nest, or what was left of it (left).

Is parental psyche ingrained into these birds at birth by laws of nature to nurture, to care and show compassion and affection? How did the parent know what to do without prior instruction?

Another observation in a different location of the same species provided great views through my telescope. I chanced a focus onto a pair of Dusky Moorhen Gallinula tenebrosa resting on a rock (below left).

Their attention was drawn to a brownish-black, furry chick with unusual yellow beak, swimming in a large lake of green water vegetation. The chick was adventurously swimming away from its parent or parents, oblivious to the dangers that may be slithering under water and be had for a snack meal (above middle).

“Loo….k! Just look at her…!” cried the nervous sub-adult, Dusky Moorhen Gallinula tenebrosa with grey legs to Rocky, the adult mate beside.

‘Mmm….are you sure that’s one of ours, dear?’ asked Rocky. He was cool.

“Of course. She’s got white chin and throat! ” retorted Rosa. The ‘late stage’ juvenile proceeded to holler out vigorously to the chick to get back to base (above right).

This parental behaviour observed of the adult and sub-adult was further clarified by a more knowledgeable Australian field birder who explained that sub-adults or ‘late-stage’ juveniles do con-sort with adults right through their juvenile stages. That would explain them being observed together.

“Oh, she’ll be alright. Just wanna bit of fun to check out the world, that’s all. After all, weren’t you taken in by my ‘tai chi’ stance on a croc the other day?” uttered Rocky on the croc (above).

“Was that croc real, dear…?” Rosa whispered sweetly.

“What were you thinking otherwise, luv?”

AVIAN WRITER DAISY O’NEILL PENANG MALAYSIA
© ROCKY LIFE ON THE AQUATIC EDGE

Allan thought the birds were fighting and he was right. They are usually peaceful, feeding as a flock. But as soon as food is limited, each bird vigorously defends its feeding territory. And when another moves in, there will always be a quarrel. In the image above, the two birds are engaged in a “mandibular clash” using their long bills to settle a territorial dispute.

This godwit is a winter visitor and passage migrant to Singapore and Malaysia. It breeds in Northeast Asia, moving south through the Indian subcontinent to reach Southeast Asia and even further to south New Guinea, north and west Australia. Fewer birds are now stopping over in Singapore, probably because of habitat loss.

The bird winters in sheltered waterways where there are intertidal mudflats and in sandy beaches, marshes, lake shores and rice fields. Food is chiefly invertebrates like insects, spiders, worms, molluscs, crustaceans, tadpoles and some seeds and berries.

“Came across a White-bellied Sea-eagle (Haliaeetus leucogaster) snatching a frog from the surface of a pond at Bt Panjang area on 10th June 2008,” wrote Eddy Lee Kam Pang (above). This is a sequence to his encounter two months earlier with a sea-eagle catching a rat in a monsoon drain.

“This was my first time seeing such an action. A frog is surely not a regular prey item for this bird. Its usual diet consists mostly fishes, though I had seen this bird taking a rat previously in the same area.

“Was there a shortage of food source such as fish that drived this bird into hunting something else or was it purely by chance that the eagle spotted its easy target, need to be seen.

“The frog must had taken great risk swimming in the pond as there were other aquatc predators around, predators such as the Toman fish and Water Monitors formed part of the residents in the area as well.

“Whatever it was, we can safely add one more prey item to the eagle’s food source list.”

And as far as catching a rat is concerned, there was also a May 2006 post detailing the sea-eagle catching the rodent in the sea off the coast in Changi.

Lee Tiah Khee has been keeping watch on a pair of Red-wattled Lapwing (Vanellus indicus) at the Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve since late May 2008 (above).

In early June he documented the two adults taking turns incubating the three eggs (below). Then he returned to the site on 14th June. It was raining heavily then but the pair was still incubating the eggs.

Two days later when he next visited, hoping to see the chicks, he was disappointed to find only two eggs left. That evening, these remaining two eggs also disappeared.

The eggs must have been predated somehow.

This lapwing is a rare resident. However, the population is slowly increasing as more sightings and nesting have been reported.

All images by Lee Tiah Khee, taken 50m away with a 800mm lens with a x2 converter attached.

This post is a cooperative effort between NaturePixels.org and BESG to bring the study of bird behaviour through photography to a wider audience.