A family of more than 50 Blue Cranes were sighted near the road on the way from Norvals Pont to Oviston

The Lesser Kestrels are swarming in layers over Smithfield in preparation for their communial roost.

An awesome sight!

I am sure that is what this masked weaver is saying.

More later…..

Some of the Lesser Kestrels seen circling overhead.

The Bloemfontein Bird Club paid a visit to Tussen Die Rievier.

They passed through Smithfield, and we eagerly await their report on the weekend.

Acacia Pied Barbet R465 Bonthoutkapper

Seen and heard around Smithfield at the moment, the Acacia Pied Barbet is a medium to smallish bird with a bright red forehead, a black hindcrown, broad black stripe through the eye and broad black bib from chin to chest. The rest of the underparts are white. Its back is black, with narrow yellow streaks, and the eyebrow is also yellow. These, plus the dark eye, prominent blackish horn bill, blackish legs and feet, and white soles are all strong identifying features.

Even if you have not seen it, I am sure you have heard its distinctive call; either a loud tin trumpet-like pehp, pehp, pehp, repeated up to about 12 times, or a Hoopoe-like toop-toop-toop-toop, with bill pointed downwards, throat inflated, repeated up to 20 times in quick succession (not in short phrases like the Hoopoe), sometimes speeding up towards the end.

This striking little bird is usually seen alone or sometimes in pairs and its flight is fast and direct.

It feeds on fruit, nectar, and certain seedpods, and is known to eat bone fat.

Breeding takes place from August to April. A nest hole is excavated in soft or dead wood, often of willows.
Roberts 6 identifies this bird as the Pied Barbet, and interestingly, the French name for it is “Barbican pie”.

The Swallows have returned and so have the Diedrick Cuckoos. They have both escaped my camera, so far!

This Sacred Ibis R91 spent more than 30 minutes unsuccessfully overturning stones looking for food.

Ons Smithfield Voëls Teks en foto deur Lynden Lund
Rooibekkakelaar  R452 – Green Wood-Hoopoe (Redbilled Woodhoopoe Roberts 6)

Cecil Webber het onlangs in Smiffie van hierdie voël geskryf. Ja, ek sien hom ook dikwels in ons tuin, en, het hy nie sy houding mooi ingeneem toe ek hierdie foto geneem het nie?

Hierdie swart en blink groen voël het ‘n lang helder afgeboë rooi snawel en voete. Die wit op sy vlerke en stert is duidelik sigbaar, veral as hy vlieg.

Sy sang, volgens die Xhosa en Zulu name, word vergelyk met die lag van vrouens, eers stadig en dan ‘n vinniger gekekkel. Hy eet graag insekte en songololas en gebruik sy lang snawel om onder los boom bas sy proei te soek.
Kyk gerus uit vir hierdie raserige voël .

Feeding next to the N6 on the way from Smithfield to Rouxville, or in other grassland areas and cultivated lands, or sometimes even proudly perched on the top of an anthill, you can easily identify these beautiful birds. They are medium to large sized with rich brown upperparts, entirely grey-blue underparts, and black head with large white facial patch.

Slow down, or stop near to them, and they will be gone in an instant. Flying quite a distance, or slinking away with head held low to the ground, they blend so cleverly into the surroundings that even the trained eye may miss them.

Their deep mellow 3-syllable croak kuk-ka-ROW, (sounding very much like “knock-me-down” or “vat-my-kierie”) repeated up to 15 times, usually in duet, always stops me in my tracks. Then I scan around avidly searching for the source of another beautiful melody of nature. Blue Korhaans spend most of the day searching for their favourite food consisting of insects, small lizards, seeds and other plant material.

This near-threatened bird is endemic to our area, and is included in the twice-a-year national count of the Korhaans, Secretary Birds, and other large birds, undertaken in this area by myself and other participating birders.

Do you regularly have interesting birds on your property that I can photograph and include in this column? Please contact me on cell 083 263 0613.

by Carmel Rickard

In some ways this is a sad time of year. The migrant birds that we have come to love have started their long trek to the other side of the world.

I’m thinking in particular of the kestrels, the Lesser Kestrel and the Amur or Eastern Red Footed Falcon. This has been one of the best kestrel summers since I moved to Smithfield – they have been everywhere. On the telephone lines, on the rocks – and, best of all, in the sky.

They moved into town this year, and have been occupying two clumps of trees, and we can watch them as they prepare for sleep. In fact it’s something worth waiting for every day and I find myself actually looking forward to the late afternoons when they begin to gather in their hundreds over the town. There are now just a couple of dozen, and every night I wonder if this will be the last time we see them.

Another bird I will miss is the Yellow Billed Stork. Once, about six years ago, while I was out walking in the veld I lay down on a large flat rock to enjoy the sun. Something made me open my eyes and there, directly above me, high in the sky, were dozens of storks, flying to their other home, somewhere in the northern hemisphere. Though there was some regret that they were leaving, it was still a magical moment.

But it’s not all sadness, for in the winter we can often see birds normally hidden by the long summer grass. In mid-winter as in mid-summer, there is a special day set aside to count the large birds that we find in this area. Counting the birds during the designated afternoon you find yourself noticing the different calls and sights of the winter veld.

There’s the near-threatened padda korhaan (Blue Korhaan) with its always evocative call, and its cousin the elegant Northern Black Korhaan; we see Spurwing Geese and, if we are really lucky, cranes and secretary birds.

Not so long ago during a count Lynden Lund and I spotted two adult Blue Cranes and their half-grown baby walking in the grass near a dam. We watched entranced – but they would have been invisible to us during the summer.

These are not the only birds that tourists (and locals of course) will find worthwhile here during winter. We have a host of grassveld pipits as well, among them a special new rarity called the Kimberley Pipit.

Website for picture: http://tripreports.cliftongrovebirds.com/myPictures/lesses%20kes.jpg

deur Manie Swarts

Ek  het dié foto’s gedurende Desember 2008 geneem, toe die Dikkop in ons agterplaas gebroei het.

Ek het die nes in ‘n oop ruimte tussen perdemis gesien. Die voëls lê twee eiers, wat dan na ± 24 dae uitbroei. Ek het die nes behoorlik opgepas, in afwagting op die koms van die kuikens! Groot was my teleurstelling, want gedurende dié tyd het daar een middag ‘n harde bui reën met hael geval, wat die nes oorstroom het met yswater. Ek het probeer om die water weg van die nes te ly, maar net een kuiken het uitgebroei. Dit was baie moeilik om die kleintjie te sien, omdat hy so goed gekamoefleer is.

Die voëls is naglewend en word selde bedags gesien. Hul verkies oop dele met kort gras. Op die oomblik kry ek hulle in die nag, waar hulle onder ‘n straatlig insekte vang.

Terloops, die kuiken is nou amper volgroei. Hulle harde geroep word dikwels vroegaand of na ‘n reënbui gehoor. Hulle is nou baie tuis in ons tuin en om die huis!

Apart from the rain and the resulting green veld, one of the most spectacular sights in Smithfield at the moment, is the cloud of Lesser Kestrels circling over the village in the evenings.

The kestrels used to roost in a stand of bluegums on the other side of the mountain, and then for a couple of years we didn’t see them at all. At the end of last season, Lynden and I watched a few dozen fly in and out of some trees near my house – but then they flew away again. This year we’ve been delighted that they not only came back, but they brought a whole lot of their friends with them.

They are roosting in two separate clumps of trees, though shortly before they fly in for the night, they sit in a number of other tree clumps, waiting for the invisible signal that says – Time to sleep.

On the day we did an official count, Lynden and I estimated 400 birds flew out of the trees at dawn. Nearly two months later it seems there are a lot more – some nights about 1 000.

They breed March – June in Europe, Central Asia and China, and when they migrate they fly either singly or in groups of 40 – 50, keeping on average about 2 000 m above sea level.

They are beautiful birds, and they fly with grace and power. They are also very useful to us because they love insects and mice that would otherwise destroy crops. But even though they are so useful, they are battling to survive – people shoot them or they eat poisoned food, for example.

Some experts from the University of Michigan say that breeding trends make itSmithfield is for the Birds

clear that they are “seriously threatened worldwide”; in fact the numbers have dropped by 95 percent since the 1950s.

Some years ago Bloemfontein bird expert Brian Colahan counted the birds at the
Reddersburg roost and found there were some 5 000. We’re not there yet, but we are hoping that they’ll be back in Smithfield next year, and in even greater numbers.

The sight of them circling over the village is a thrilling one for our visitors – overseas and local guests – and for us. The birds provide a perfect excuse to find a comfortable seat, a good sundowner and a few minutes off from work to watch them.

Best time to see them: at the moment, between 6 and 7.15pm.