Lots of birds at the lake today, including a group in the centre of the southern end. All the usuals are here—swans, black ducks, numerous teals, coots, swamphens, wood ducks, pink ears, three hardheads, some shelducks, shovelers, and a bunch of others out of view right now. Fin and I walk the path around the edge, observing as much as we can. There are a couple of quendas near the jetty. I guess the water level to be 1.24 metres, he guesses 1.22—the gauge says 1.23 metres. The level makes it possible for many different birds in many different places to reach food across the lake. The melaleucas keep flowering, as do the yellow and red eucalypts further to the north and west. There’s a Pacific black duck with six chicks. I tell him I saw a kakka bakka the other day—he says that’s his favourite bird name—we make it to the gazebo, but I can’t see the spoonbill today. We see some more coot chicks. And then uplifts a cloud of janjarak black winged stilts with a seagull behind. At first it looks like the seagull is chasing them. But then appears on the scene the long orange wingspan of the swamp harrier again. At this point the seagull doubles back and starts to give chase. The harrier begins to move south as more stilts take to the skies, coming from every part of the lake, it seems—I had no idea there were so many. The harrier moves further south, and the seagull backs off. The harrier comes to land amongst the grass on the eastern side of the lake. It’s hard to spot him now, but there may be a wagtail harassing him in the reeds. Nothing happens for a while so we move off. Then a little later the harrier takes off again and glides on the wind, one way and then another, his big wings catching the air like a sail, and he seems to almost struggle with the change of wind direction as he circles. He’s moving further south now, and then from nowhere another bird is giving chase—it looks like a small raptor—an Australian kestrel maybe, perhaps a hobby. It dives at the harrier a few times, then peels off into a nearby tree. The harrier is hovering while looking down amongst the reeds; it hovers remarkably well for its size, sitting above one particular spot, before he comes into land, and we move on.