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Pelican Yoga Posts

Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#14 in series: Killiecrankie Bay “1”)

 

 

Killiecrankie Bay is on the northwestern side of Flinders Island.

Both of this post’s photos offer a wide angle view (32 mm).

The featured image looks north, from the southern half of the bay’s shoreline.

Its high point – Mount Killiecrankie – rises circa 316 metres above sea level.

(Alleged altitude readings for Flinders Island’s peaks are highly unreliable/inconsistent. Some add another couple of metres to Mt Killiecrankie. Others lop 30 metres off it!)

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#13 in series: superb, sassy)

 

None of Australia’s 10 fairywrens are “true” wrens.

However, all are truly beautiful.

3 equally beautiful species: superb fairywren, splendid fairywren and lovely fairywren.

The last-named lives only in near-coastal parts of Queensland’s Cape York Peninsula; the other two have much wider ranges.

When southeastern Australians  wax lyrical about “blue wrens” they usually have in mind the “superb” species, whilst a southwestern Australian is probably thinking of the “splendid” kind.

On Flinders Island all “blue wrens” are “superb”, albeit members of the island’s own subspecies of Malurus cyaneus.

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#12 in series: aglow/shaded)

 

 

The first three photos in this post were taken within a “window” of just one minute.

At 6.38 pm on 17 March 2025 the sun was low; it would soon “sink” into Bass Strait.

”Paradoxically” (not, in fact) this circumstance saw the west-facing, upper reaches of Strzelecki National Park bathed in “gold”, whilst their lower flanks were “greyed” by shade.

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#10 in series: longer lenses, shifting light)

 

A recipe for quiet delight…

1: Be in a place with dramatic topography (ideally, clad with both forest and exposed rock faces and/or outcrops) and oft-changing weather.

2: Find a comfortable vantage point, with late afternoon sun behind you, dramatic topography in front, and a sky that is neither cloudless nor overcast.  Ideally, bring camera/s and/or binoculars.

3: Watch closely, as clouds form, dance, dissolve, whilst the sunlight becomes progressively lovelier as its daily “disappearance” draws closer.

A “static” landscape – even a “stolid”  one – becomes deliciously dynamic when “golden hour” sunlight and shadows move across it.

(The southwestern corner of Flinders Island is an ideal location)

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#9 in series: two wallabies)

 

 

Some animals’ tongues are much longer than most humans imagine!

In the late afternoon & early evening of 17 May 2025 many Bennett’s wallabies were grazing the grassy grounds of Mountain Seas Lodge.

They are a mostly-solitary species – a marked contrast to the highly-sociable ‘roos that have brightened so many of my days, across seven decades.

These Bennett’s wallabies were large in number, but definitely not a “herd”, nor an “extended family”.

The pictured individuals, like most of their fellows, were “solo diners”.

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#8 in series: room with a view)

 

 

 

Come late afternoon on 17 March 2025, we were comfortably ensconced in an upstairs room.

Ever-growing numbers of wallabies were emerging from the wooded, lower slopes of the “roof” of Flinders Island, in order to graze the immediate surrounds of Mountain Seas Lodge.

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#7 in series: uncleared, no cattle)

 

Strzelecki National Park’s signature features are its glorious, unspoilt beaches and the hills  that tower above them.

Generally, the hills have well-wooded lower slopes, which eventually yield to quasi-naked granite.

The above photo was taken just a few minutes after I and the previous post’s star had been mutually-surprised, but unalarmed…just a few wallaby-hops distant from this post’s vantage point.

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Flinders Island, March ‘25 (#6 in series: Bennett’s Wallaby)

 

20 minutes after the wedgetail “fly-by” (see #5 in this series), I enjoyed a much more intimate, ground-level, animal encounter.

Pictured is Notamacropus rufogriseus – a species which is particularly abundant in Tasmania, but is also common through much of eastern Australia’s coastal scrub and sclerophyll forests.

In Tasmania it is generally known as “Bennett’s wallaby”; in mainland Australia the more common name is “red-necked wallaby”; some humans regard the Tasmanians and the mainlanders as two distinct subspecies.

Doubtless, some would say the same of the two relevant human populations!

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