Don Knowler

Australian flags flapping in the warm, summer breeze. Australia Day at the Waterworks Reserve but I was not taking part in the celebrations and festivities. In my diary, the priority on the day marking the arrival in 1788 of the First Fleet is not to break out the BBQ snags and steaks. It is the time in late summer when I take stock of the breeding success or otherwise of the birds on my home turf. Although one of the Knowler flock, John Knowler, earned his passage by … [Read more...] about Satin flycatchers lead the celebration of summer

The currawongs found competition for the fruits of the native cherry this summer – I was determined to get to this bounty before them. For years I have waited patiently for the berry fruits of these beautiful trees – with fine, filigree foliage – to ripen so I can sow them in my garden. The currawongs, however, have always beaten me to my favourite tree at a site in the foothills of kunanyi/Mt Wellington. It wasn’t exactly a New Year’s resolution to take on the marauding … [Read more...] about Fruits of the forest

I was listening for the summer-song of the boobok owl, a soothing, warm sound which carries far through the dry woodlands of Tasmania as soon as the sun sets. Instead I heard the frightening, screeching call of the masked owl. It sounded as though someone was being murdered out there, in the foothills of kunanyi/Mt Wellington. I was at one of my favourite owl-watching and listening posts, the Ridgeway recreational oval, a mysterious and lonely place at the best of times … [Read more...] about Owls darken a summer’s night

There I was, lying in bed with the world’s worst hangover. It was New Year’s day after all and I had overindulged the night before. And then it started. A regular tap on the bedroom window at first, and then a loud banging. I knew immediately what was making the noise, though, exacerbating the pain in my head –  an angry grey shrike-thrush. A few months ago I wrote of a very loud shrike-thrush waking me in the morning with its strident “Joe Whitty” territorial song. Now … [Read more...] about Shrike-thrush creates hangover hell

It was one of those sparkling mornings on the eve of the holiday season which needs the power of a poet to describe it. Hobart poet and academic Pete Hay sprang to mind with his Fragrance of the Morning.  The strolling breath of the day opens to the presence of morning, her wild, come-hither laugh The summit of kunanyi/Mt Wellington high above me had been capped with snow just a few weeks previously, but now summer was definitely in the air. The warm rays of the … [Read more...] about Poetry takes flight