Australia has 97 native mistletoes at last count. None grow in Tasmania, the author of the Wikipedia artice quotes that they died out in Tasmania during the last ice age.
Mistletoes don’t kill their hosts, though with a heavy infestation might shorten its host’s life. What I think will happen to this host.
I have not yet found the species or genus name of this one infesting the ‘big’ tree in my patch. New growth on the mistletoe is rust brown while the long eucalyptus-style leaves are a cross between sage green and grey, despite what they look like on this photo.
Nor have I seen anything that looks like a bud, flowers might give me an indication of its genus. The only field guide I know about Australian mistletoes is for the temperate southern half of the continent.
Plantnet doesn’t know it. If Mangroves to Mountains (field guide for local plants) has an online presence I might find it there. We’ll see.
The jury is out on the bug’s ID. Just found a similar looking one in the Wildlife of Tropical North Queensland, a cockroach probably immigrating from Asia.
Or it could be a sap sucker related to the bronze stink bug. There is a sap sucking bug species, like this one on the Angophra sp, for all major tree species in Australia.
European honey bees very busy among the Tuckaroo flowers …
I had a little video clip here, but guess I need to negotiate with WP on that, and am on my mobile just now. Think of the above as a place holder.
A bunch of tiny blue butterflies skipped in amongst the grasses
Fast fliers that never sit still they are one of approx 63 similar little blue butterfly species in the region, according to Helen Schwenke in her Create More Butterflies. I saw them among the above grasses.
If they were the Common Pencilled-Blue variety, they would’ve had plenty of food for their caterpillars for the Tuckaroo is a common host plant.
Is the steep rocky rise at the south end of Cadogen Park, a sports field surrounded by a narrow strip of vegetation.
Northfacing, the bank might as well be known as a commercial bank for its richness in biodiversity.
I suspect it was planted out purposely at one time, as the presence of human-spaced tuckaroo, acacia, and other native trees illustrates.
Just as many fast growing weedy non-natives have filled the spaces where originally, I suspect, slow-growing natives struggled to make a living.
The section above shows about a third of the total length. The east-bound arm of Bedivere Road encloses the western end of the bank, while at the eastern end—where I came in—a foot/bike path runs past.
In the foreground of the photo the newly mown cricket ground where two species of birds, two swallows and a willie wagtail, were busy picking up stunned insects. Though I don’t have good photos of either of them, or lol, shots I can post on the FB Crap Bird Photography group, I’v put both birds on my ‘bird species sighted’ list.
Most of the first third of the bank is influenced by this very large … still working out what it is … used to be called Angophra … a species that appears weedy in Brisbane … though this one may have been planted purposely.
This tree is on its way out. Almost every joint in the larger branches has a bunch of mistletoe hanging from it in various stages of life or death.
Mistletoe, also an unknown species
Mistletoe, the brown leaves are new growth, the grey green mature. The shape of its leaves resemble the generic Eucalyptus leaf-shape, so I wonder whether the very comfort of this mistletoe on this tree means it’s finding this … easier to eat?
Above, some of the many branches of the Angophra/Eucalypt with a bunch of its leaves in the left foreground. At my eye height all leaves were infected with black mould with every do often a sprig of tiny red new tree growth trying to push through.
This is not a tree you would happily sit under for its shade while watching the cricket, and, mindful of suddenly falling branches, I decided not to take a short cut back to the path by walking under it, either.
As you can see when you zoom in, most of the duckweed is white and dead.
I’ve been keeping fish and frog ponds for about fifteen years and I’ve never had such a wholesale dieback that even the duckweed carked it.
The feathery green plant seems okay so far. Fingers crossed that they make it. And, I hope that both the Azolla waterfern and the duckweed have left spores and seeds behind, that hopefully will sprout when we leave winter behind.
While you are zoomed in you may be able to spot the two remaing fish. Though they look like leprosy warmed up in the photo, in their analogue state they‘re stockier than they were, but at least still alive.
I moved their habitat back under the outdoor light, in the hope that that gives the plants enough light to survive until I get my grow lights. An added bonus is that I can sometimes see the fish flitting about from inside my living room.
There are more tracks/songs on this post-rock album. Steede Bonnet, my favorite in this album, is a kind of western, soundtrack sounding …?
Can you believe it, we have not yet found a good substitute for track/song and these purely instrumental compilations are called songs.
I’ve had a problem with that since I began with post-rock in 2017. At least the word ‘album’ has stood the test of advancing technologies.
The exact month and day now escape me but some time in 2017 I got home from a funeral and typed ‘big music’ into the google search box, because it felt like suddenly half my conscious mind had nothing to do.
I took up watercolour painting at the same time, as well as a third project to round things out…but what?
For the life of me I cannot remember what I decided on. Or even how I changed my life to fit it in. Still worrying at it at times like my tongue worries at a hole in my teeth.
Google came up with post-rock, and I’m still listening. Voiced lyrics don’t do it for me, I spend all my time trying to hear what they are saying. That’s not to say I don’t have a few favorite classical albums among my play lists. Plus quite a few film scores.
Rita de Heer 