There’s no sound in the Tasmanian bush as mystical and magical as the call of the boobook owl ringing out in the night. It’s onomatopoeic, of course, the “boo-book” giving the bird its common name. In New Zealand a closely-related species is called the morepork, which perhaps is the same sound but with a New Zealand accent.
The call is a haunting, rhythmic two-note sound, which can carry for a kilometre on a still, summer night. It’s symbolic of the wilder Tasmanian bush but those of us who live in city and suburb can sometimes be fortunate enough to hear it, as I was in mid-October.
The “boo-book, boo-book’’ was riding on the freezing night air just as Hobart was experiencing a late cold snap, which had put a dent in the mood of relief and optimism the arrival of spring usually brings after winter. I was in fact visiting the log pile in our front yard having lit a fire. As I gathered the timber, the owl sang out from high on the northern side of the Waterworks Valley towering over my home. I called to my wife and we stood there, under a star-lit sky, reveling in the song until the cold drove us indoors.
Since occupying my house 18 years ago, I had only heard a boobook on two previous occasions, both singing from a dense bottlebrush close to my bedroom window. On another occasion I surprised an owl roosting under tree roots along the Sandy Bay Rivulet in the Waterworks Reserve. The bird flew up to a branch and fixed me with an angry stare before flying into the branches of a high blue gum. I could see its mad yellow eyes, surrounded by a dish of darker brown feathers on its light-brown body.
The Waterworks Reserve is also home to Tasmania’s other owl species, the bigger and more dramatic masked owl. Both species are vanishing from many areas of Tasmania for reasons that are not fully understood, but the use of powerful single-dose rodenticides are believed to be contributing to the decline of not only owls, but other birds of prey. Raptor experts urge householders, and farmers, with rodent problems to use less potent chemicals in open areas where birds of prey hunt.
Our owls are remarkable birds with almost supernatural powers to see, hear and hunt in darkness. From the dawn of human civilisation, the world’s 225 owl species have been steeped in legend and folklore. In western culture owls are seen as mysterious guardians of life’s secrets, hiding deep reservoirs of wisdom behind their giant yellow eyes. But not all societies see owls as wise. In India, owls are associated with ill-gained wealth and foolishness rather than wisdom. The pervasive myth of the wise owl, in fact, likely originated with legends of the Ancient Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena. She was often represented in classical Greek art holding an owl.
Wisdom or not, owls have proven themselves over time to be of immense value to humans in pest control and so it is a wise move to ensure their survival.