I went in search of the hiding place of the notorious bushranger Rocky Whelan on Mount Wellington one crisp and clear autumnal morning and it was appropriate that a Tasmanian scrubwren should lead me there. In times past the scrubwren made its home among the bushrangers, the murders and thieves who terrorised Tasmania’s citizens, aiding and abetting them in their efforts to escape the law. The little bird was dubbed the “alarm bird” by the early settlers because it warned … [Read more...] about Alarm birds keeps watch
On The Wing
Passport to birdland
Birdland is a magical place where it’s possible to escape all the pressures and stresses of the environment of the city created and inhabited by one species – humans – and immerse yourself in a less one-dimensional world. Birdland is nowhere in particular, and does not have to be special or noteworthy. It could be in the wildest of wild forest, or in suburbia. It could be a pristine beach, a few hectares of eucalypt woodland, or a neatly manicured city park. It could be a backyard. That’s the magic of birds; they bring beauty and wonder to every corner of the planet, wild or untamed, and my On the Wing writing is their celebration.
Dancing on the Edge of the World
Dancing on the Edge of the World is a collection of essays that had their genesis in the “On the Wing” columns first published in the Mercury. The essays were grouped in sections which presented a guide to birdwatching including how to identify different species of birds and where to find them. The book was nominated for the Tasmanian Literary Award in 2005, but is now out of print. As one reviewer said: “Birdwatching can be totally boring, but in this sparkling … [Read more...] about Dancing on the Edge of the World
Swallows fade with the summer
The welcome swallows have vanished, after the slow fade of summer. One minute the swallows are fluttering, swooping and gliding through Hobart’s parks and then they are gone, virtually overnight. During the summer months I grow so used to seeing them that they become part of the motion and fabric of the city. And then too quickly as autumn arrived they were no more, and something vital appeared to be missing. It’s not that I actually record the date of their departure, as I … [Read more...] about Swallows fade with the summer
Familiarity breeds contempt
A juvenile yellow-tailed black cockatoo called from the garden, demanding food from its parents. I lie on my bed engrossed in a book and I must confess I couldn’t be bothered to go to the window to view the cockatoo family, let alone put on shoes to go out into the garden. Parties of black cockies had been coming and going all week, criss-crossing the sky above my home, uttering their melancholy song – which some describe as an Irish lament, a “keen” – as they passed … [Read more...] about Familiarity breeds contempt
Beauty in the hunter’s sights
I might have named the backwaters of the Huon River “swan lake” after the black swans that I find there but I have another name for an expanse of water where wildfowl gather. I call the waters of Lake Barrington in the north of the state “duck pond” because of the large number of Australian wood duck I always see there. After paying closer attention to black swans this year, I have also been looking anew at the wood duck, another waterbird that is so common it goes … [Read more...] about Beauty in the hunter’s sights