I was raised in the Jungles of New Guinea where one was faced with a cacophonic mass of greens. To many this was a claustrophobic mass of vegetation that limited your vision to a matter of a few feet. Others feared as if it were some malevolent monster always ready to swallow you leaving no trace. In many ways this was true many alien adults were.
There was a patch of bamboo which up in its reaches 25 feet or more were the remains of impaled skeleton its identity long absorbed …a victim of war time torture. Some bamboo grows up to 20 cm per day. There were other war remains, planes, gun emplacements and vehicles all claimed by the jungle their decay feeding its relentless reclamation.

Being young and having not yet learned the prejudices of comparison or conditioning it was my play ground. A humid blanket in which I could both hide and be fascinated by its endless peepholes the variety life it offered.

The secret that the grown up never seemed to learn was to change focus from the panoramic to the details nature was revealing.

In these she showed the beauty of her symmetry and surprising gems. From the impossibly coloured butterflies often bigger that the delicate humming birds that shared the same species of flower. The iridescent tans and black and the yellow of nature’s seeming joke...the gawky horn bill (bird). The tracery of multicoloured orchards high up the biggest tree trunks. In my wisdom was sure that I’d get a nose bleed if I ever got that high. And yet this cornucopia of life still offered never changing directional signposts for those who were prepared to be taught.

For the last 6 years I’ve spent much of my time doing bush care in a near urban bush. That same drab eucalypt riparian forest but what I see is an ancient and less ebullient but more deliberate nature. One with its own set of clearly defined rules where each plant, bug, bird animal has its allotted integral part to play.
Continued

Continued...
Here there are no bit players it is far more sophisticated in its organization that a switz watch. Nothing is left to chance nothing is surplus to requirements.

The other key word is calm, go about your business calmly and as if you are entertainment special a hundred eyes will watch you. If you do the same thing regularly and calmly you will be accepted as part of nature’s society (habitualized)

While looking for seeds of a groundcover I was regularly on hands and knees under an nesting tree. One day I looked up and saw two of the most fancifully white fluffy chicks engrossed in watching me. Their parents (normally shy) flew in with feed ignoring my presence. Goss hawks feeding their young a rare site indeed.

When I dug weeds I was under constant bird surveillance a yellow breasted robin kept peeking around a tree. After a while a cranky fan (grey Willy Wag Tail) watched then started flitting around excitedly chirping. I moved back and both birds dove into the hole to get the bugs. When finished they went back to their surveillance. I learned to work on two neighbouring weeds simultaneously. Eventually more species turned up for the feeding.

One hot day I laid down for a ‘nanny’ nap to awake to a superb blue wren directing his brood (6-8) from the vantage point of my boot.

Another with my gum boot off I awoke to find a 1.5 metre python investigating it. Everyone’s a critic he quickly slithered off… what did he expect it’s hot and of course my feet stunk.

Lastly eating lunch in roughly the same time& spot each day a juvenile Lace monitor used to turn up for scraps.

David f I’m never alienated by the bush. Try a more focused approach a few field guides (“Tracks, scats and other Traces” by Barbara Triggs in Brisbane “Mountains to Mangroves” are a must) will tell you what to look for… it’s the one place it all makes sense

I probably get much more out of the native vegetation and landscapes than most people do. In fact, I’ve made a career of it, as a botanist, ecologist and geomorphologist….and half-mad birdo!

I just can’t get enough of it. I’m out there at every opportunity. I’ve just returned to north Queensland from a quick trip to the karri forest and Cape Leeuwin. Another round-the-country driving trip looms – the third in three years. Every weekend is spent exploring and gathering botanical and fauna records. There is nothing drab about it. It is all full-on fascinating!

Hardly any time for OLO!

What do I find alien? Well, it’s not hard to guess…

The constant humanisation of landscapes, especially the complete conversion from bush to urban sprawl that continues rapidly in so much of coastal Australia.

Massive clearing of bushland in Queensland for grazing or sugarcane…or just because landholders could do it, with government support, only a decade or so ago.

Enormous regions practically devoid of natural vegetation, such as the Western Australian wheatbelt.

Changed hydrology leading to the death of riverine and swamp ecosystems in the Murray/Darling.

Weed invasions and changed fire regimes that have led to large-scale ecological changes.

Salinity, erosion, ecologically destructive feral animal species.

Invading humans that just can’t get their act together to live sustainably and in some semblance of harmony with all the native residents of this continent.

Nothing here is alien,
Everything's terrific.
Vegetation greatly varies,
but's to its place, specific.

With colour-muted palette
dry sclerophyll's adorned
with purples, olives, creams, greys;
and pinks outside the norms

On OLO's page if you but ask,
Mad Ludwig of Herbaria,
in language quite botanic
Will set you right within a flash,
on matters taxonomic.

Sans chlorophyll, the sclerophyll
the hard-leaved woodland litters.
It lies around until a fire
Moves on all bushland critters.

A mis-titled topical poem. Should have been called 'The Best Man', or 'An Old Flame'.

Bannerman of the Dandenong
by Alice Werner 1859 - ?

I rode through the Bush in the burning noon,
Over the hills to my bride, --
The track was rough and the way was long,
And Bannerman of the Dandenong,
He rode along by my side.

A day's march off my Beautiful dwelt,
By the Murray streams in the West; --
Lightly lilting a gay love-song
Rode Bannerman of the Dandenong,
With a blood-red rose on his breast.

"Red, red rose of the Western streams"
Was the song he sang that day --
Truest comrade in hour of need, --
Bay Mathinna his peerless steed --
I had my own good grey.

There fell a spark on the upland grass --
The dry Bush leapt into flame; --
And I felt my heart go cold as death,
And Bannerman smiled and caught his breath, --
But I heard him name Her name.

Down the hill-side the fire-floods rushed,
On the roaring eastern wind; --
Neck and neck was the reckless race, --
Ever the bay mare kept her pace,
But the grey horse dropped behind.

He turned in the saddle -- "Let's change, I say!"
And his bridle rein he drew.
He sprang to the ground, -- "Look sharp!" he said
With a backward toss of his curly head --
"I ride lighter than you!"

Down and up -- it was quickly done --
No words to waste that day! --
Swift as a swallow she sped along,
The good bay mare from Dandenong, --
And Bannerman rode the grey.

TBC

Ludwig,
See any Red Goss hawks up there? Greg Czechura Queensland museum was doing a long term project on them. He would be interested to know.
The ones in the nest were Brown Gossies.
I'm an armature twitcher emphasis on the armature but I'm keen.

Romany
Parrots generally eat seed, fruit and Rainbows Lorries (they’re the multi coloured ones) and smaller Green and yellow 'Scaly Breasted Lorries' often seen together eat nectar.
The pink and greys were probably galahs and they go crazy over a ground plant’s rhizomes.
In Adelaide parks early morning and late afternoon it wasn’t unusual to see flocks of them with red dirt faces from digging them up.

These rhizomes are translucent white, have the constancy of cucumber and the taste of waxy potato and almond (awful). Mostly water as bush tucker you would need about a kilo to cook up cup full…why bother?

More useless information from the mind of examinator wasting your brain cells.

DavidF

I am enjoying the varied topics you have been introducing to OLO.

Having been born and growing up in rural Australia, my country is not at all alien to me. But I do understand where you are coming from.

I lived in Arizona for 12 months and, in contrast, seasonal change in Victoria was distinctly missed. Every day in Tucson was around 105 and sunny - as much as I enjoy chatting to strangers I meet, the topic weather was not a great icebreaker in the American southwest.

Stands of eucalypts are common throughout California - the sight of them always brought on painful bouts of home sickness.

When living in Tucson I used to go jogging every morning, I recall following a trail among saguaro cactus and mesquite and caught a flash of red. There are not that many brightly coloured birds in the US and from what I could see of the bird's size, to me it looked like a glimpse of a rosella. I pursued the flight of this bird and finally it alighted on a branch of mesquite; a brilliant red cardinal. Glorious creature which inadvertently brought on another wave of homesickness. Lovely as the bird was, I missed my Aussie parrots.

Romany I share your feelings about the birds of Australia, I live in the Yarra Ranges a day never passes where I fail to see birds; from the tiny blue wren performing a fan dance, to the constant taunting of kookaburras cackling through the mountain ash, or the heavy landing on my balcony of the ever alert cockatoo hoping for a free meal.

I guess I suffered from both arboreal and avian alienation while in the US.

I loved my time in the USA, but it is so good to be back; preparing as I am for tomorrow's threat of fire - oh the irony. Bushfire is (unfortunately) a great icebreaker between strangers, but at least here I can say the word "kookaburra" and not be looked at blankly.