Nature Diary: Chasing Birds
Last Sunday we went in search of a pair of White Bellied Eagles, and when I say search, it was more like a stroll in the vague direction of where the eagles might be. Unsurprisingly, they were not flying majestically at eye level over the cliff awaiting our arrival. Nevertheless, we were greeted by exquisite honey-scented Kunzea flowers, flowering Eucalypts swaying in the cool Spring breeze and dozens of enormous dragonflies and Bright Copper butterflies.
This Sunday I went in search of another bird, the Yellow-Tailed Black Cockatoo. There is a local spot by the sea, under the banksias and that seemed like the perfect spot to be today. I hadn’t seen any lately or heard their distinctive call which often fills the valley in the late afternoons. I made my way down the laneway, through the bush, past the coastal banksias and down to the ocean. There is a gap in the trees on that particular route and I made my usual stop to spot whales. Sure enough, there was a pair breaching and splashing a few kilometres offshore. The water looked so incredibly inviting, but alas no togs. So on I went to find the birds. I had my earphones in listening to the umpteenth podcast (nothing noteworthy today). I decided to vary my route towards the patch of Banksias where I hoped to find the cockies feeding. The reason I went up that particular hill was to get the heart rate up knowing I’d be downhill again in no time. Up I went, feeling virtuous until a man whom I’d seen just moments before on the beach (a few hundred metres away) ran at full pace right past me with his two large dogs. I took my earphones out to do the customary ‘local walker/runner’ greeting, a swift hello and the requisite nod. He replied in turn, and I was surprised he could talk given his pace, it put me to shame as I gasped, hands on hips, sweat gathering on my brow. I was about to put the earphones back in my ears when heard the familiar wail of those lovely birds I was looking for. A family flew, as if in slow motion above my head. I tried to count them, seven, eight, maybe nine, I lost track as they gently changed formation as they glided by.
There is something utterly magical about these birds. Their flight is slow and graceful, and in contrast, their call is shrill, mournful almost and captivating, it’s as if they want you to know they are there, and you could hardly miss them. You can listen here. In the local Dharawal language, they’re known as ‘Ngaoaraa’. They were a balm today on a day after the Voice to Parliament referendum was rejected. It’s a sad day and a sorry state in a nation which has a long way to go in truth-telling, reconciliation and justice. Yes23 campaigner and filmmaker Rachel Perkins posted a statement to Instagram in response to the result which spoke of the disappointment in the wake of the results.
Listen // Podcast - Blindboy in Conversation with Patrick McCabe
I thoroughly enjoyed Blindboy’s latest podcast with author Patrick McCabe on all things creativity. In particular, their thoughts on multi-disciplinary creative practice and the influence of music on literature. They also touched on the importance of failure, process and flow. Excellent.
Read // Poem - Fadwa Tuqan, Enough for Me
I discovered Fadwa Tuqan this week while looking for a poem by another female Palestinian poet whose name has escaped me. The Guardian published this obituary when she died in 2003 which gives insight into her remarkable life. You can also read more about her here in this comprehensive essay in Arab Arts and Culture journal Al Jadid. I’m glad I found her.
Enough for me to die on her earth
be buried in her
to melt and vanish into her soil
then sprout forth as a flower
played with by a child from my country.
Enough for me to remain
in my country’s embrace
to be in her close as a handful of dust
a sprig of grass
a flower.
Watch // Film - Rabbit-Proof Fence
Based on Nugi Garimara's book ‘Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence’ and directed by Phillip Noyce. It follows the true story of young sisters, forcibly taken from their mother (kidnapped) by the government and taken thousands of miles away. Twenty years on the film remains a potent and stark reminder of the history of the colonial policy of removing Aboriginal children from their families and the traumatic impact it’s had on subsequent generations. At the time of its release, the promotional posters led with the tagline "What if the government kidnapped your daughter? It happened every week in Australia from 1905 to 1971”. It caused a political furore with a government minister calling for Noyce to apologise for the copy, Noyce responded "maybe they could apologise to our indigenous citizens."
Natures notes is proudly written on and inspired by Dharawal Country. I recognise the Dharawal & Wodi Wodi custodians and ancestors who have an enduring connection to land, water and skies.
Always Was and Always Will be Aboriginal Land.
I was longing to walk with you on your bird walk Anna - what a sad outcome from the Oz government, but not surprising
I learn so much from you, Anna, about so many things. Thank you. And ... I stand in solidarity with everyone who voted yes. So sad that your country's legacy on colonialism is no better than ours in the US.