Wildlife Pokies

Every good story needs a catchy title, but I promise the explanation for this title will become apparent. In the mean time, hang up the phone: you do not need to call the RSPCA presently.

There are 2,880 lots of 30 seconds in a 24 hour period. Thankfully, there are only 11 hours and 18 minutes of actual daylight in far northwest Queensland at this time of the year.

During the day, a motion-sensing wildlife surveillance camera can be triggered off by the movement of shadows or foliage or over-energised little brown birds that (I am certain) have Duracell Lithium Batteries shoved up their cloacas. Every time the camera is set off it takes three photos in succession, resetting itself after 30 seconds ready to take another three photos at the slightest hint of next movement. With the exception of the perpetually partying Cane Toads, activity does diminish somewhat at night resulting in a concomitant reduction in photos taken.

Quick maths. 667 lots of 30 seconds of daylight x 3 photos per 30 seconds x 7 cameras x 13 survey nights. Conservatively guestimating that half the cameras were triggered off at half of that frequency on only half of the number of survey nights, that still equates to 50, 000 frames of footage I must analyse for evidence of fauna species of conservation significance within the project area of my most recent biological survey with Animal Plant Mineral.

I will need to wade through copious quantities of Cane Toads, a multitude of Mudlarks, a heap of boring brown Honey Eaters, dozens of Double-barred Finches and a ludicrous amount of Long-tails in the hope of spotting one rare and Vulnerable Gouldian Finch or one Endangered Carpentarian Rock Rat.

But as I begin to wade through the images, something takes me completely by surprise: fauna image analysis is completely addictive. I am like a pensioner on a poky machine. But instead of feeding coins into a slot I am relentlessly pressing the Page Down arrow as my eyesight blurs, my brain bleeds and my metatarsals deteriorate from the repetitive strain of pressing the same button time and time and time again.

As every image passes my eye I long for the next one in the desperate hope that the next one might be 'the one'; clear, indisputable evidence of the existence of the rarest of animals alive and well and caught on camera. And when it does not materialise in a montage of pixels I click again and again and again and again and again.

Though I have not yet captured an image of the target species I so desperately seek, I have captured dozens upon dozens of images of less rare but equally amazing animals. I put this little sequence together of a gorgeous Merten's Water Monitor. The camera also captured some extraordinary shots like this Double-barred Finch in between wing beats as it approaches to land next to a dove. For the non-faunal readers out there I have included prisms of light dancing on the water.