When we returned to our Mossel Bay home recently we were thrilled to find the Cape Weavers (Ploceus capensis/ Kaapse wewer) hard at work building nests right outside our upper floor living area. They provide endless entertainment with their constant activity, never stopping from dawn to dusk.
The post has been updated to include an image of the chicks being fed – they are growing fast
Just to repeat some of the background to our lockdown experience while in Mossel Bay…..
Top of my list of activities to keep me occupied under lockdown was birding / atlasing and to make it more interestingBirdlasser came up with a “South African Lockdown Challenge” for which I registered. Any species that I logged on the Birdlasser app would be counted towards my personal total during lockdown and could be compared with others doing the same. I knew that I would not be very competitive, but saw it as an inspiration to keep up regular birding / atlasing during the lockdown.
The rules were simple – any bird species recorded in or from the garden would count – the “from the garden” bit makes it really interesting as it means a bird flying overhead or at a distance, even a kilometre or more away, counts, as long as you can confidently ID it.
The central habitat is of course the garden itself – in our case a small one – literally a u-shaped strip of lawn between 1 and 2m wide on three sides of the house, with the front side having a well-established rockery type garden on both sides of the driveway.
Our patio and enclosed stoep, where we have meals and tend to spend most of our time, looks over our neighbour’s gardens and has a sweeping view of part of the golf course and of the open sea beyond the cliffs.
These colourful little bundles of energy are an absolute joy to watch as they fly from one sweet flower to another, hyper-actively on the go all day, fueled of course by the nectar of the aloes and honeysuckles which flower at this time of year.
One thing I discovered about the smallest of them – with one of the longest names in our region – the Southern Double-collared Sunbird, is that their wings beat so fast that they make a whirring sound as they fly about.
The wing beat of Hummingbirds is a lot faster, causing the humming sound after which they are named, but I would hazard a guess that sunbirds are high up in the rankings of birds with the fastest wing beats.
I had never noticed this whirring sound before, but it became a calling card of this species when we were in the garden during the lockdown period, immediately alerting us to their presence and was the signal for me to grab my camera, in the hope of capturing an image while they prodded the flowers with their long curved bills.
The bills are unique in that they are both long and slender, down-curved at just the right radius to reach deep into the similarly curved flowers that they prefer – just another example of nature’s perfect partnerships. The tongue of the sunbird can extend to almost the same length as the bill and is tubular with projections at the tip to suck up the nectar while feeding. So long flowers such as the honeysuckle suit them perfectly –
Four species of sunbird visit our garden, some more regularly than others, depending on the supply of nectar-producing flowers (and the neighbour’s feeders) and seasonal changes.
Most regular visitor is the Southern Double-collared Sunbird – like most of the sunbirds there is a distinct difference between the male and female colouring – known as dichromatism. Compare this colourful fellow with the photo of the female above and following the next one as an example.
Occasionally the cousin of the last species, the Greater Double-collared Sunbird will pop in, but the smaller Southern species outnumbers it by at least ten to one in our garden. Although larger than the Southern species, this is not always discernible when there is nothing to compare it with, so I usually rely on the width of the red band across the chest, which is about double the width in the case of the Greater species.
The Amethyst Sunbird with its all black glossy plumage is a regular at certain times of the year while completely absent at other times. It was a regular visitor during the lockdown period, but less conspicuous and seldom staying very long. I wasn’t able to capture an image of the male, so have included one from an earlier trip.
The most recognizable sunbird is the Malachite Sunbird, mainly because of its glossy green plumage and because it has a longer tail than any of the other sunbirds in the region. It was scarce during the lockdown months and seems to visit us more often during midsummer – November to February. This photo is from an earlier trip to the southern Cape
Cape Weaver in Action
Not far behind the sunbirds in the energy stakes are the weavers and I discovered that they also have a liking for a drop or two of nectar now and then (who doesn’t like a bit of sweetness after a meal?). Now weavers have a shortish, thick bill rather unsuited to prodding into flowers such as honeysuckle so they take a shorter route to get to the nectar – to my horror as a lover of flowers but interesting to watch.
They go straight for the jugular, as it were, nipping the entire flower off just above its base and so gaining direct access to the nectar, which they quickly take a sip of and move on to decimate the next flower. Fortunately they seem to be rapidly sated, so once again the natural balance remains intact.
One Cape Weaver was intent on building a nest and chose an overhanging branch of our neighbour’s tree which was no more than 2 metres from our patio window, affording us a grandstand view of its efforts. And did he keep us entertained!
I suspected the male was fairly young, otherwise he would not have been attempting to construct a nest so late in the season, with winter just around the corner. At a guess, he was possibly getting in some practice for the next breeding season, honing his all-important nest-building skills while impressing the female in his life, who was constantly around to inspect and comment on his prowess.
This carried on for around a month – some days there would be no interest on his part to continue, other days he would be coming and going for a large part of the day, modifying the grass structure, adding a few strands here and there, twisting and turning and hanging underneath all at the same time.
Here the female is bringing some weaving material to the nest – clearly not confident that the male would pick the right material
Don’t worry, I’ve got this …..
Eventually it seemed he was satisfied after checking it out from the top and bottom and getting the nod from the female, after which it all went quiet and the weavers became less conspicuous. Perhaps they had realised that the cold and windy weather was not conducive to raising youngsters and that they would be better off next season – let’s wait and see.
Our recent short ‘end-of-winter’ visit to Mossel Bay was made interesting by a Cape Weaver (Kaapse Wewer / Ploceus capensis) who had chosen the neighbour’s tree for his nest for the new breeding season. Although not in our garden, the tree overhangs our small lawn and as luck would have it the branch that was chosen by the Weaver was no more than 2 m from our bedroom window and marginally more from our balcony.
By the time we spotted it, the initial ring had already been woven by the busy Weaver and I promptly set up my camera at our bedroom window, linked it to my iphone (using the clever Nikon app and the built-in wifi connection of my Nikon camera), then sat in the lounge where I would not be seen by the bird and clicked away whenever the Weaver appeared on my iphone screen. I love it when technology comes together!
This technique produced some clear shots of it arriving at the partial nest with a length of grass or piece of leaf and as it set about the intricate task of weaving it into the growing structure. Fascinating to watch as the nest slowly grew and took shape. Once the nest was more or less complete and well-shaped the Weaver shifted his attention to the thin branch to which it was attached, stripping it of leaves – we could only guess this was a strategy to prevent unwanted “visitors” from using the foliage to conceal their approach.
After a couple of days of frenetic activity the bird seemed satisfied – except nothing happened, no female took occupation and the nest just hung there, unoccupied. A very windy day tested the nest structure to the limit and it seemed to withstand the battering without damage.
Then a day before we were to leave, a second ring frame appeared, attached to the outer wall of the first nest and we once again watched fascinated as the same Weaver set about building a “semi-detached” extension to the nest. This is not something I have seen before although Weavers are known to build more than one nest, often several, usually in different locations in the same tree, before the female of the species indicates her acceptance and takes occupation. (Right now I am resisting the temptation to make some further comment about this behaviour, relating to the female of another species that I am familiar with….)
Unfortunately we could not stay to see the outcome of this new development – perhaps there will be some evidence of the outcome when we return in November.
Anyway, here is a selection of the photos I took surreptitiously of the Weaver
Arriving at the nest with fresh grass strand
Starter ring being constructed
A bit of displaying might impress her
Saturday, one week later
You think semi-detached will work better? – Yes, of course dear!
Now where does this one go again?
I really don’t like being watched while I’m weaving