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I know when goshawks are visiting my garden without having to actually see them. The alarm calls of the new holland honeyeaters announce the brown goshawk and the smaller collared sparrowhawk are in the vicinity and stalking birds in canopy and shrubbery. No raptor instills such terror in the honeyeaters and other garden birds than the goshawks which, unlike other birds of prey, generally kill by ambush in trees, although they will also pin both bird and small mammal to the … [Read more...] about Raptors face poison menace

At last there’s good news amid the doom and gloom surrounding falling numbers of Australian birds. Two rare birds exclusive to King Island which were believed to be on the brink of extinction have been found alive and well, if in need of a population boost. The news receiving wide coverage nationwide concerns the King Island scrubtit and the King Island thornbill. Previously, they had both been ranked as the Australian birds most likely to go extinct within 20 years. They … [Read more...] about Rare birds bounce back

The black cockatoos were moving from the high country, their far-carrying calls a keen for the close of autumn and the approach of the snows of winter. I was walking the Organ Pipes Track on kunanyi/Mt Wellington and a keen – an Irish lament – seemed an appropriate noun to be applied to cockatoo contact calls. Wisps of cloud tumbled down from the highest point of the Organ Pipes above me and the freezing mist promised snow. Hobart myth says the sight of yellow-tailed black … [Read more...] about Black cockie song of the mountains

A raven out of synch with my bedside clock guarantees I get an early start to the day. Although the clocks went back in April I didn’t get the benefit of an extra hour in bed because the female forest raven I feed daily kept to her old routine. If you are a raven you judge time by the rising and falling of the sun and not the ticking of a clock. “My” raven sits on the roof at exactly seven o’clock instead of the current time an hour later, at the moment I usually rose to … [Read more...] about Raven keeps to its own time

Driving to Taroona on a misty autumnal night recently I was struck by a sense of déjà vu, a journey that was coming full circle. As a cub reporter a half century previously I cut my journalist teeth on the type of community meeting I was about to attend. Many men of my age speak of a misspent youth frequenting snooker parlours; I spent mine covering community gatherings like garden clubs with my reporter’s notebook. During summer weekends it was garden shows along with the … [Read more...] about A journey back in time