Kirkalocka Part Two

Now I am a caravan park in Drummond Cove, WA on the shores of the Indian Ocean. I am sitting with coffee and computer at our camp table behind Troopi. There are five species (make that six) of honeyeater swarming about the flowering gums just a couple of meters above and beside me, so far so good on ‘fallout’. There’s a little flock of babblers bouncing about under the trees by the amenities block. This is good. I am grateful (it is hard to write, as I keep looking at the birds).

Where I am right now.

Okay, when last I left y’all, we were doing a big loop through the outback to the south east of Kirkalocka. We even saw some touristy stuff. The abandoned town site of Big Bell was bizarrely beautiful in a “Twilight Zone” kind of way. This is a town that “peaked” when I was only one year old. Then the mine closed in 1955 and it went down hill fast. Now there is almost nothing left of the whole town. The old Hotel ruins are still there, but for the most part it’s just concrete slabs and rubble. It was all very cool. I am glad we stopped there. Here are some photos.
     

The back side of the hotel ruins

So much nothing

This was the theatre.

We did a bit more birding here and there and I took some phone photos. It is beautiful. It can be hideously hot (it was warm whilst we were there, but nothing like it can be) and the flies will drive you mad, but there is no denying the rugged beauty of it all. I am grateful to have been out there.

This is actually the W. Quail-thrush ridge from yesterday's blog, but it fits in here as well.

A water tank on a station 

The Warne River with some water in it! There were even ducks.        

A Sand Goanna looking us over.

Then on Monday, we reluctantly bid our new friends farewell (for now, we will see them again) and headed north to bird near Cue. We had missed a decent view of the Chiming Wedgebill on Saturday and we needed to get it. Again, north of Cue we found our bird. It was not a cooperative photography subject, but experiencing the bird is what counts! I did manage a few very lame, but identifiable recording shots. I am very grateful!
 

Chiming Wedgebill, he chimed for us but was reluctant to pose.

On our drive over to the coast yesterday, we made several stops looking for the Grey Honeyeater, but no joy of that little bird. We will keep looking. Maybe Tom Price in a few days (how could we fail at Mt. Bruce?). We will see. I know it is a hard bird. As for now, I reckon we are here for another night. There is a Yellow-throated Miner trying to decide if it should land on my table and a tiny Brown Honeyeater going about its business no more than a meter from my face. Sweet! I am so grateful.


Birds. Peace. Love.