January 2021 has been a month for the insects. While we haven’t had the heavy rain predicted to arise from La Niña (our creek and dam are still dry), regular showers have kept things looking green over the past couple of months. Various insects have profited from the abundance of fresh growth, including a couple of species I hadn’t noticed in previous years.

The first is a fruit-piercing moth, Eudocima fullonia, whose spectacular large, black larvae have been munching their way through the vines Stephania japonica and Legnephora moorei. Like many species of caterpillars, they possess what are known as eye-spots, large circular patches on their body that imitate eyes and scare off potential predators. This particular species takes it one step further, though, and when disturbed it contorts its body (wrapping its head underneath and raising its tail in the air) to resemble a spooky “face”.

The adult moths have recently started to emerge and are currently feeding on the juicy fruits of Streblus brunonianus. Like their youngsters, adults also have a patch of colour to frighten away predators, this time in the form of bright orange on their hind wings. These are most prominent when the moths take flight.

Despite being numerous, E. fullonia hasn’t reached the sort of density that completely defoliates its host plants. The same can’t be said for the Tricolour Noctuid Moth, Oxyodes tricolor. Like the previous species, O. tricolor has attractively patterned larvae, which have been busy stripping the leaves off their primary host plant, Cupaniopsis parvifolia.

Cupaniopsis parvifolia is a neatly shaped tree that I’ve always thought was under-utilised in horticulture. It is drought-tolerant, evergreen, has bird-attracting fruits and does not grow too large. Even during the harshest droughts we’ve endured over the past couple of years, C. parvifolia has always retained its dark, glossy crown. I always thought that it would make a great street tree. However, millions of moth larvae have upended this tree’s reputation as indestructible. All individual trees growing on the hilltops and upper slopes have been stripped of every last leaf by these voracious caterpillars. Meanwhile, any growing in the gullies remain nearly untouched. This moth clearly has very specific climatic requirements.

At first I thought I’d found the adult moths feeding on the same Streblus fruits as the former species, but now I think these were the related Discoloured Noctuid Moth (Avatha discolor) instead.

Not surprisingly, one of our hundreds of young Green Tree Frogs (Litoria caerulea) had discovered the bounty of moths to be found in the Streblus, and waited there for its meal to arrive.

My poor little Pavetta and Psydrax have also taken another beating this year from the larvae of Cephonodes hawk moths. The Pysdrax had only just regrown its leaves after last summer’s attack. I don’t mind, though, as I love watching the adult moths buzzing around like hummingbirds.

The last week or so has also seen our second major influx of Blue Tiger Butterflies for the summer. They are currently everywhere in their hundreds. This time, there are also decent numbers of Pale Triangle Butterflies (Graphium eurypylus) accompanying them. This gang was drinking from our muddy driveway after a brief storm.

January and December are the main cicada months, and this year was no exception. Cicadas live most of their lives underground as nymphs, and the short-lived adults suck the sap of plants. Particular species of cicadas favour the sap of particular trees and 2021 was the year I learnt how tasty Codonocarpus attenuatus must be for cicadas! This is a tree that was absent from the property when we moved in, but it turns out a sizeable population of Psaltoda cicadas has built up on my four-year-old trees. At its peak in mid-January, each tree had at least 1,000 cicadas sucking from its branches and trunk. The below photo was taken well after the numbers had started to decline, but still show the rain of excrement falling from the trees, familiar to anyone who has been for a bushwalk in the Australian summer.

Prior to this year, I had never before noticed Australian Figbirds feeding on cicadas, but a small group was feeding daily on this feast. I had always thought of them as fruit-dependent.

The other bird I hadn’t realised was a cicada-feeder was the White-throated Needletail (Hirundapus caudacutus). As I mentioned in my last post, we were lucky to have about 200 of these insectivorous birds more-or-less permanently around the house for at least two weeks in early January, coinciding with an abundance of the tiny grassland cicada, the Grass Faerie (Parnkalla muelleri). These cicadas emerge every year in their millions and make walking through grassy areas without safety glasses hazardous for at least two weeks, as they flush up in all directions from vegetation underfoot! Each year, Cattle Egrets, White-faced Herons and Straw-necked Ibis arrive to feast on the emerging nymphs. However, this is the first time I’ve noticed needletails doing the same. Normally up high overhead, it was great to watch these fast-flying birds barrelling up and down our driveway, and over the nearby paddocks, just metres off the ground. It has been 10 days since the Grass Faerie populations have crashed and the needletails haven’t been seen since.

One insect I’m glad hasn’t reached last summer’s densities is the White Cedar Moth (Leptocneria reducta). They have still been around, munching away on their host trees, but have fortunately stayed out of the house this summer.

The same can’t be said for our local frogs. A Green Tree Frog has been sleeping each day behind a picture frame in our dining room for at least two months now. At night, he waits until we turn off the lights before leaping to the floor, hopping 6 m (past the first back door, no less!) to our second back door. There, he forces himself through the brush door seal we installed to prevent (evidently unsuccessfully) critters coming in the house. No matter how many times we moved him outside, he would return to his picture by the following morning. We’ve given up and now have him as our house mate. Incidentally, I know it’s a he, because he insists on calling loudly every time we get a shower of rain, the picture frame vibrating with each croak.

One day last week, we even discovered this Graceful Tree-frog asleep on the handle of our toaster! Thankfully, it had the good sense to not return after we moved it outside.

Not all of our recent wildlife sightings have been inside the house, however. I managed to take this photo of an Eastern Striped Skink (Ctenotus robustus) sunning itself on a termite mound.

This large skink is very common in southeast Queensland, but is often tricky to photograph because it is timid and rapidly flees. It’s actually a species I don’t see all that often on our property, so I was glad to find one that paused in the open for long enough to be photographed.

We have also had a family of Dollarbirds visiting over the past few weeks. Vine scrubs are not ideal habitat for this species, as they breed in tall, hollow (often dead) trees, which are largely absent. However, I have noticed that we often get individuals or small family groups (parents with fledged offspring) settle in for several weeks each year, after breeding but before they head north for the winter. I assume these have bred somewhere nearby (perhaps in the tall eucalypts lining the Brisbane River) and arrive to fatten up on our cicadas.

In other baby bird news, I am excited to report that our local Black-breasted Buttonquail have had another successful nest hatch over the past month (despite the local foxes). As I described last month, I have two cameras installed in their territory. One is a video camera, which managed to take amazing footage of a calling female, as well as four chicks following after the male. Unfortunately, I am unable to post video to this blog, so can’t share it here. Luckily, both the female and male-with-chicks also visited the second camera, which takes photos.

Incidentally, the buttonquail were not the only babies to wander in front of the camera.

It was actually really fun to watch behaviour on the cameras that I have not otherwise observed in the scarce and timid Black-breasted Buttonquail. For example, over the series of dozens of photos taken of the above family, I could see that the babies follow very closely by the feet of the male as he walks through the forest. However, when he stopped to scratch, they all stood back about 30 cm (out of his way) and waited for him to offer them any food he found. The female was never with the male and chicks, as is typical of the bird family Turnicidae.

Incidentally, I am yet to see this family of chicks with my own eyes, which goes to show how secretive they are. The two cameras are still in operation (with batteries recharged), so it will be interesting to see what becomes of the family over the coming weeks. Based on the date stamped on each photo, I can report that all four chicks survived at least their first week. Time will tell whether their luck continues…and whether they decide to linger in the vicinity of the cameras!