The clocks had gone back, darkness fell earlier and all of a sudden I felt a chill in my bones, and a flock of departing summer visitors, striated pardalotes, could feel it too. As I contemplated the looming winter, the pardalotes were on their way back to the mainland, travelling as far north as the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, if not further. All spring and summer their incessant “pick-me-up” triple-syllable song had bounced across my garden and through my home and … [Read more...] about Striated pardalotes in search of the sun
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.
Bird artists rule the roost
A dusky robin sits on a mossy branch, with the classic upright stance that in dim light helps to distinguish the species. The dusky, as its name suggests, lacks the red or pink of the other robin species seen in Tasmania, and so I listen for another identifying feature, the soft, melancholic tune which birders describe as the “sad song.” The song doesn’t come, nor the flutter of wings, and I realise that artist Belinda Kurczok, has played a sly trick on me. She has … [Read more...] about Bird artists rule the roost
Dawn chorus finds its voice
With the first glow of light in the morning sky, as the sun stirs behind the Eastern Shore, the merry chortle of the yellow-throated honeyeater starts up. Although I’m a light sleeper, I’m not troubled by the sound ringing through the treetops. And in half-sleep I listen for the emerging songs of the other birds in a soundscape that will soon become a cacophony. The guttural call of the yellow and brush wattlebirds next, and then the beautiful cadence of the butcherbird, its … [Read more...] about Dawn chorus finds its voice
Sea-eagle makes it to the garden list
On a beautiful autumnal morning, a sea-eagle flew over South Hobart on outstretched, quivering wings. It had come from the east and as the eagle crossed my home with slow, steady flaps, it tilted its wings and swerved to head in the direction of Kingston. I was out at the washing line at the time, but dropped the wet clothes to dash inside to check the list I have compiled over the years of birds spotted in or above my garden. Although on rare occasions I had seen … [Read more...] about Sea-eagle makes it to the garden list
Half century of birding triumph
The yellow wattlebird was firmly in my sights when I first arrived in Tasmania 20 years ago, the biggest of the honeyeaters and a species found nowhere else on earth. Swotting up on its song, however, I was a little shocked to learn that it was described in a bird book as sounding like someone “vomiting”. Indeed, local birders had dubbed it the “chuck bird”. I soon discovered what they were talking about. To this day I call it the “hangover honeyeater’’ after a memorable … [Read more...] about Half century of birding triumph