A swamp harrier soared high above the Waterworks Valley, painting the blue sky in circles against a backdrop of streaks of white cirrus cloud.
It was a rarity for my neck of the woods and my good friend Brian “The Flute” Owens had seen it first, pointing skyward and then identifying the raptor.
Focusing my binoculars, I thought it might be a brown falcon at first, more common in my valley, but with naked eye Brian spotted the bird of prey’s distinctive feature, a white rump with sets it apart from all the other medium-sized raptors which at first sight might seem similar at great distance.
It was appropriate that we should see a swamp harrier. Brian in late winter always phones me to announce that the migratory harriers have arrived at his own home patch, the paddocks and fields surrounding Ouse, the bucolic village bordering the Central Highlands. Out of all my correspondents, Brian is the first to report them, their arrival always timed to coincidence with the hatching of the first chicks of masked lapwings, a primary source of food after the harriers have crossed Bass Strait.
At that time, Brian had asked me if I would lead a bird walk for a social gathering he runs for elderly, retired gentlemen from the Ouse district.
Like the harrier, the “Eating with Friends” club travels far and wide once a month, on missions that always end in a modest lunch and cup of tea or coffee at locations than can range from the waterfront at Franklin to the summit of kunanyi/Mt Wellington.
It’s not always about nature – MONA and a tour of the research vessel, the RV Investigator, have also been on the menu – but birds especially always seem to spark talking points among the group.
Birds and their songs somehow conjure memoires of old places and old faces and, as my experience this year talking to old folks’ groups in Hobart shows, the study of our avian friends is a perfect pastime for senior citizens.
Not that the Eating with Friends group was dwelling on combined ages, talking about the autumn of lives on such a glorious early-spring day. Two of the group might be in their eighties (the group, in fact, does not have an age restriction) but members had no problem negotiating the main road through the Waterworks, a symphony of birdsong which included the piping call of the black-headed honeyeater and descending chime of the fan-tailed cuckoo giving them a spring to their step.
The group was formed five years ago, under the guidance of the state co-ordinator for the Eating With Friends initiative, Karen Austen. It receives support from the Central Highlands Community Health Centre which provides lunch and a mini-bus.
Brian thinks it could be a model or other old-age initiatives in the state.
Although Brian gets his nickname from his reputation as a noted flute player in Irish folk bands around Hobart, for the outing to the Waterworks he left his instrument behind. He didn’t want to be competition for the vocal birds.