“LIVING WITH WILDLIFE”
A Traveller’s Journal - Part 18
We left Sydney in 2006 with the idea of re-locating to a home that offered privacy, yet was not too far from a city with all the facilities that a city had to offer. If possible we wanted it to be near a vegetated area that was abundant in wildlife. It sounded an impossible goal but we found such a house in Coffs Harbour on Australia’s east coast. One of the nation's most respected documentary film makers, Michael Dillon, once said that “Happiness is more closely linked to exposure to nature than to money.” We were now about to test his theory. The house was a modern looking two story brick house almost surrounded by trees, with a forest on the eastern side, and assorted trees with other vegetation at the front and back. It was reached via a long driveway with a single story house on either side, but the houses were far enough away to give us our privacy. A huge plus was that it was well away from the road so we would not be bothered by road noise, which was an increasing problem where we lived before in Sydney. This was as private as you could get in a city. There was even a small creek below the house with a continuous supply of running water. The inside of the house was just as impressive with large windows that looked out on the forest and front garden. Coffs Harbour, or Coffs, as the locals call it, had a few more things going for it too. It was half way between Sydney and Brisbane, it had a number of great beaches and also had a large swathe of natural bushland that straddled a creek that ran through the city. It was close to the temperate rain forests of the Dorrigo plateau and between the mountains and the sea was the charming old world town of Bellingen, where David Helfgott, the pianist of “Shine” fame lived. Russel Crowe also had a property at Nana Glen just inland from Coffs, as had Jack Thompson. It was classified as a city with a regional population of over 70,000, with many clubs, restaurants, a cinema complex and a small live theatre at a place called “The Jetty”. It also had two big shopping plazas and a large Botanical Gardens complete with nesting bowerbirds! We moved in a couple of months later and met our neighbours on either side of the driveway. Both sets were retired or semi retired school teachers, with the husband of one being an ex Air Force officer. Both men had the Christian name of Peter, so we referred to them as Upside Peter and Downside Peter. However, we had yet to meet the rest of our neighbours - those who dwelt within the forest adjacent to the house…
The Bats: The first confrontation with the wildlife occurred not long after we moved in and was the subject of an article that I sent to an English magazine. Having lived in London I knew that the Poms loved anything slightly whacky about the Great Land Downunder, so I wrote “The first warning of what was to come, occurred just a few days before Christmas. Roger wanted to see Peter, our neighbour, who was interested in watching a couple of DVDs of our travels, and, as I could hear him apparently hammering on his tin shed roof, I informed Roger who picked up the DVDs and went next door. When he returned a half hour later, I inquired as to what Peter was doing. "He was testing his Bat Box!" he answered. "He was WHAT?" I replied. Now at this point in the narration a bit of background material is essential. As a child growing up in country Queensland we called them Flying Foxes, and they used to come to our house every summer to eat our mangoes. They would also eat any other fruit that was about and were very much cursed by everybody, especially the orchardists. They are nocturnal, and sleep hanging upside down in colonies numbering in the thousands during the daylight hours. These colonies are noisy, smelly and a health hazard, yet in the madness of to-day’s politically correct world, where a vocal minority is able to govern the majority, they have been declared a protected species and it is illegal to harm them, or the branches they roost on, in any way. One of the weirdest sights that I have ever seen is the dusk sky filled with these flapping creatures flying silently northward to attack the orchards. Peter has said that the number in flight here in Coffs is over fifty thousand. Now the dilemma facing the Coffs Harbour residents is that there is a very large colony of these dreadful creatures near the city centre in close proximity to their homes. There had been many protest meetings about the bats but the residents were told that they were protected by law and that it was illegal to harm them or their roosting sites in any way. The irony here is that the bats, in time, kill the trees that they roost in anyway. When we arrived in Coffs Harbour the colony was in a forest across the road on the south side, but the residents, fed up with their noise and filthy droppings decided to do something about it. As the Fruit Bats do not like noise they grabbed anything that would make a noise and, all together, went on the attack. The colony then took off and moved to our quieter forest on the north side. The all knowledgeable Peter informed us that a Fruit Bat colony near one's house can cause its property value to drop by as much as eighty thousand dollars. They also carry a deadly virus that kills horses, and even humans. If this isn’t bad enough the corrosive droppings can even damage a car’s paintwork. All this seems incentive enough to "persuade" a Fruit Bat colony to move on despite what the law says! Dismayed at their new neighbours, the residents around the north side forest launched their attack late in the afternoon on Christmas Day. Perhaps being primed with more than a little bit of alcohol and an urge to work off all those extra calories did it, but suddenly the air was filled with extraordinary loud bangs, clashing of metal on metal and sounds like fire crackers exploding. There was even the occasional whoosh and bang of skyrockets. The north side people had now gone on the attack! Obviously the Christmas message of "Peace on Earth, and Goodwill to all Men" did not extend to Fruit Bats! The enormous racket just went on and on, and soon the sky above was filled with hundreds of dark flapping shapes shrieking in indignation. Some alighted in trees near our house and Peter raced out with his freshly tuned bat box and began beating it wildly. Thankfully this full on attack had the desired effect and dislodged the remainder. Meanwhile, the rest of the traumatised flock just circled the area, uncertain what to do. The battle went on periodically for the next couple of hours, until dusk, when the main body, numbering in their thousands, arrived flying northwards, and the displaced flock flapped away to join them. The next day I walked down to the site of the battle to see how effective the Christmas Day attack was. There were still a few Fruit Bats hanging in the trees, but the main body had gone. What surprised me, however, was the amount of small branches and leaf litter lying everywhere on the ground. It looked to me that the residents must have been using something more powerful than boom boxes, crackers and "scare" guns. What ever the weaponry was it had served its purpose and the bulk of the flock seemed to have disappeared. I don’t know if the police had made any arrests. Perhaps they were all too busy eating their Christmas dinners. Anyway the flock, in all probability, had now retreated back to the south side, so this means, of course, that the south side residents will retaliate and send them back again to our side of the dividing road. And what are we going to do about it you may wonder. Why, build our own Bat Box of course!”
The Amazing Kookaburras. The first time that I really noticed a Kookaburra was at one of the Sydney beaches a long, long time ago. It was a little harbour beach with rocks on either side and trees all around. A couple of ladies were sitting out on the rocks eating their lunch, while on the bank behind them was a tall tree with a Kookaburra sitting in the branches. As one of the women selected a sandwich she decided to say a few more words to her friend first and raised her hand, carrying the sandwich, for emphasis. Quick as a flash the Kookaburra swooped down, grabbed the sandwich out of her hand, and took it away into the opposite bush. The startled woman and her friend just gazed in bewilderment at her now empty hand. Strike one for the Kookaburra. Nil for the humans. When we were moving into the house, one of the men carrying the furniture noticed a pair of Kookaburras sitting in a nearby tree and said “Aah Kookaburras! We have a pair that nest nearby and each year they bring their babies up to the verandah railing and we hand feed them. The kids love them!” I was impressed. This very big burly removalist man had a weakness for Kookaburras. When we got into the swing of things we became regulars at a particular Chinese restaurant in the city, and became friendly with an elderly couple who dined there at the same time, and discovered that they always visited the nearby Supermarket first to get a bag of meat scraps for their Kookaburras. One of the first things that I noticed when we went shopping in Coffs was that the Woolworths Big W had huge 10 kg bags of wild bird seed for sale. Now you would not have those bags of seed for sale if there was no demand for it. After all, you would not buy that amount of bird seed for a couple of canaries in a cage. It meant only one thing! The people of Coffs Harbour were heavily into the illegal activity of feeding the wild birds. Add this to the area’s other favourite pastime - growing Marijuana, and you had a pretty lawless community! Of course the wild birds could not care less about any of this as they are only too pleased for the helping hand as the cities spread out and gobble up their bushland. From what I could see we had two Kookaburras who often sat on a branch in a tree opposite the kitchen in the late afternoon sunlight and fed each other little items of food. Sometimes, during the day they would sit on the Hills Hoist as they watched their surroundings for worms or insects. Our presence did not appear to concern them at all and often, when bringing the washing in, or pegging it out they would leave it until the last minute before flying away as we turned the line around. One day I looked over the balcony and saw them trying to pull a large worm out of the ground. Coffs has the largest worms that I have ever seen, and this one appeared to be over a foot long with more of it in the ground that wouldn’t come out. The worm was a gonner anyway I thought, so I may as well go and help. I grabbed a pair of scissors and went down and joined them in their tug of war with the worm. My presence did not concern them in the least as they tugged away at the stubborn worm. I reached down with the scissors and cut the worm off at ground level which then caused it to come away and dangle from the Kooka’s beak. My face was now level with the Kookas and the first thing it did was to shake the worm furiously. The trouble was that there was a lot of gooey worm guts and dirt dangling from the severed end of the worm which all ended up on my face! Horrified I ran for the garden hose to quickly wash it off, watched by the two bewildered Kookas, who were no doubt wondering at the strange behaviour of humans. After that we began giving them little bits of meat off cuts, or bits of chicken which were graciously accepted. We were amazed as the showed no fear of us at all and would quite happily take food from out fingers. Then, one morning a few days later, we were having a coffee on the deck, and one of them flew over from the forest, perched on the rail opposite us and dropped a Beetle at our feet. We looked at the very large Beetle and wondered what was going on. After a while when she could see that we did not intend to eat it she flew down, ate it herself and flew away. When relating this episode to a learned friend he said “You gave her something, so she gave you something in return. That’s what Kookaburras do!” It did not really end at that either, for, about a week later, while sitting there with our coffee, we saw the Kooka approaching with what appeared to be a small live snake wriggling in her beak. I yelled our “run!” and we rapidly abandoned our coffees and raced inside to hide behind the closed door. When she saw that we had gone she flew off into the forest with it still dangling from in her beak. The first babies came the next year. We heard them, particularly at night, and at first wondered what the strange noises were. A few weeks later they began following their parents to the deck for a food hand out. There were two of them and they had trouble landing at first on the smooth metal railing so I wound some cord around it to give them more grip. They were very noisy as they asked for food and grabbed it from their parents beaks. It sounded like they were calling out something like “Wow! Kook, Kook, Kook!”. Later they learnt to accept food that we offered them, but as they also had a tendency to grab our fingers, we decided that it was better to make them catch it instead. Food handouts, however, were strictly rationed to a little in the morning and similar later in the evening: if they called in. The rest of the day, and the very early mornings, they learnt to forage for food themselves. After a couple of years we began to get other birds dropping in, like the Rainbow Lorikeets. Fortunately the house surroundings had many Grevilleas growing so they attracted the nectar eating birds. It was inevitable that the cheeky Rainbow Lorikeets would arrive on the scene, and just as sure that we would leave out some bread soaked in honey solution for them to eat. Of course the Lorikeets immediately claimed the deck area as “theirs” and would chase away any other bird that landed there: even the Kookas. It was funny to see the small Lorikeet taking on the much larger Kookaburra. Undeterred by its size the Lorikeet would puff up its feathers and charge the Kookaburra. The Kooka sometimes stepped aside or just leant down towards the charging Lori and opened its beak to warn it off. Sometimes the Lori would get a peck in before the startled Kooka adopted a defensive position. At no time though did the Kookaburra make any aggressive moves against the Lorikeet. As peaceful as the Kookaburras appeared, one incident made me realise that when defending their territory Kookaburras can be very aggressive to their own species. I was out for my afternoon walk not long after we arrived in Coffs Harbour, when I noticed what appeared to be a bunch of brownish feathers lying in the gutter. My first thought was that a Tawny Frogmouth had been killed by a car and its body kicked aside and left lying in the gutter. When I went over to investigate I was surprised to see that it appeared to be a Kookaburra. As I drew closer I was amazed to see that it was not one, but two Kookaburras, and both appeared to be alive. I knelt down and saw that one had its beak locked on to the others wing! They had apparently been engaged in a fight where one locked its beak on to the other’s wing and refused to let go. Did they engage in aerial combat and fall from the sky to land here, or had it been a ground battle where one had refused to let go of the other. Whatever the reason, I stepped in and grabbed the two of them and managed to shake one free of the other, and they both then flew away. I had read that Kookaburras are very territorial, and that the laughter is to warn any interlopers away. Apparently the intruder didn’t get the message in this case and challenged the other, who was prepared to defend its territory to the death. This didn’t fit the peaceful image of the Kookaburras that was forming in my mind. Perhaps, however, it was displaying a very human like trait in defending what was considered their theirs. The information on Kookaburras is that they usually lay only two eggs, though up to four is not unknown. We were actually away in Queensland when the last nesting occurred, and when we returned the two Kookas arrived on the deck and took some of the food that we gave them back into the forest. This could mean only one thing. They had nestlings to feed. The next day Roger decided to see if he could locate their nest. Our guide book told us that they usually nest in tree hollows. The next time that the Kookas arrived for a hand-out Roger walked down into the forest and waited. I gave them something and watched them fly away with it. When Roger returned he said that he had seen the nest, and sure enough it was high up in the hollow of tall dead Eucalyptus Gum tree. However, he noted that neither bird flew directly to the nest. Instead they flew first to a nearby tree, perched there and looked around to see whether they were being watched by any of the predatory birds. Only when they were satisfied that the area was safe did they fly down to the nesting hollow. Eventually the fledgling Kookaburras left the nest and arrived with their parents to perch on our deck railing. However there were not two babies, but four and sometimes eight when last years babies appeared. We were very surprised! Suddenly we had Kookaburras everywhere! The babies were a bit cautious at first, but soon learnt that they had nothing to fear from us. Of course they made quite a racket all asking for food at the same time. As Christmas approached our neighbours asked us over for a few drinks with their family and friends in their garden patio. During the course of conversation the Kookaburras came up for discussion. “They are very noisy, especially in the early morning.” said our host and added “It seems to come from the back of your place.” “Do you feed them?” another asked. “Oh no!” I lied “We try not to encourage them.” The talk still continued on the Kookas and their babies and I then gave a demonstration of a baby Kooka asking for food “Wow! Kook! Kook! Kook!” I warbled a little too loudly. (I had only one beer too!) In an instant Kelly, the female Kooka, suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, and flew across the garden to land on the back of Roger’s chair and gave me a look as if to say “Well you called!”…I then had to give her a few tasty morsels from the table in front of us before she would leave. I was most embarrassed!. The young Kookas behave like children anywhere, they liked to get into a bit of mischief. One in particular liked pulling at things, and one day managed to untie a small branch that I had tied on to the deck railing for them to perch on. Another day it pulled the towel away from the top of our small barbecue that was covering it for protection. Another liked to eat things that it wasn’t supposed to eat, like melon rind or bread. Kookaburras are classed as carnivorous and are supposed to eat thing like rats, mice, snakes, small lizards and earthworms. One day I tossed a bit of bread down to Henry the Scrub Turkey and a young Kooka quickly flew down to grab it. However Henry was quicker and stomped on the young Kooka pining it to the ground with his large foot. I was horrified at Henry’s action, as was the young Kooka who began to squawk loudly. I yelled out “No” to Henry( a word he understands) but he was reluctant to let the young bird go. I was just about to race downstairs to intervene, when Henry relented and took his foot off the Kooka who quickly flew off making loud distress calls. As the young grew up a couple wandered off, but the others remained with their parents. We used to call the male Kevin, and the female Kelly, but one time Kevin had a bit of trouble with one of his eyelids. (Kookas have two. One is transparent.), and we began referring to him as Blinky Bill. His eyelid problem righted itself, but he is still called Blinky Bill. He is the friendliest, and most easy going of all the Kookaburras. If we are out on the deck having coffee he sometimes flies in to join us, or to just sit there with us and watch the forest. One day when he came in I was about to give him something when he turned his head and looked at something in the sky above. As was astonished to see that he absolutely froze. He was completely unmoving. Even when a piece of food was waved in front of him but he would not move, not even as much as blink an eye. He remained like that for some time, until a few minutes later he unfroze and finally took the food piece that I was offering him. I have since seen them do this a few times now. I would say that it something that they do if they sense danger. Being completely still is a defence mechanism. At the time of writing we have not seen much of the Kookaburras for a few months. They have either moved out of this area of the forest, or they are getting food from somewhere else. However you can be sure that Blinky Bill will call in once a week to say “Hello”. One of the characteristics of Kookas that we find very amusing is that they can change their shape. They have their fluffy look - usually after a bath in the creek below, or the sleek look - feathers smoothed and tighter in against the body and the flathead punk look, where the head feathers are puffed up but seem to be cut off horizontally across the top. This last arrangement is the cause of much amusement. However when they fly in after being caught in the rain and their feathers are all wet and clinging to the body there is hardly anything to them. Their bodies are quite small. They have a language too. I have only picked up on a few things, like the babies asking for food sounds. Also when the babies are about but not with us, and I give a piece of food to Kelly, the Mum, she will make a sound that says “I am going to take this away to my babies”. “Yeah”, I answer “go on take it away!”. and off she flies. Sometimes when I give them a special treat like raw chicken or raw steak, Kelly will make a sound that says to her mate “I want to eat your bit too!” and Kevin/ Blinky Bill will give her his bit. One thing that I have not mentioned so far is that they are house trained and almost never soil the deck with a splat. Maybe the babies did occasionally, but the adults seem to know that it is not good manners to do so! All together, with their strong sense of family and sharing, which extends to humans, I would say the Kookaburra is a most amazing bird.
The Kookaburras
The Koalas. When we were looking at the house originally, the salesman told us that there were Koalas living in the adjacent forest, but I assumed that it was just salesman’s talk, probably based on an urban myth. I spent all my early life in a Queensland country town and never saw one Koala, except in Lone Pine Sanctuary in Brisbane. In fact the first one that I had ever seen in the wild was in the bush at Kangaroo Island, off South Australia just a few years before. I was therefore extremely sceptical about the claim that Koalas can be seen living in the heart of Coffs Harbour.…We saw our first Koala about a week after we moved in. I was preparing breakfast, looking through the kitchen window as I did so, and noticed a grey lump in the branches of one of the opposite trees. “Surely not!” I thought. We got the camera out with the telephoto lens and discovered that it was no urban myth. We were now looking at our first Koala, and it was more or less in our back yard. During the ensuing years we were to see quite a few. One adventurous little fellow decided to go for an early morning walk on the back lawn and was confronted by a Bush Turkey. To the Turkey the Koala was trespassing on its territory, so it chased the poor little fellow who ran to the nearest tree. Unfortunately it was a Pine tree so the Koala had to just sit there until it thought the coast was clear so he could return to the safety of the nearest Eucalypt. The most memorable encounter with a Koala occurred a year or two later. To our delight we discovered that the house also had a walking track at the back that took us through the forest down to the main road. This was a good way to avoid the steep street at the front and more scenic as it took us over the little creek via a plank bridge. We would often use this track to visit the nearby small local shopping centre. One day when I was returning from the shops, I noticed a movement at the base of a large gum tree nearby. I stopped and turned to see what it was, and was amazed to see that it was a large adult Koala about to climb the tree. I cursed inwardly for not carrying a camera, as I often do, but decided to watch to see what it would do, anyway. To my absolute astonishment it changed its mind about the tree and instead walked over towards me and stopped just a few feet away. It then gazed up at me with big beautiful brown eyes. I was completely bewildered! Koalas were supposed to be pretty dumb, and do nothing but eat, sleep and sit in gum trees and certainly scamper away quickly at the sight of any humans. Yet here was this one, just a few feet away, making intense eye contact!.. We continued like this for some time, with me not quite sure how this was going to end. As tired old muscles were showing the effect of the long walk and climb up the slope from the creek, I decided that I may as well sit down. However, as soon as I made the move to sit, the movement startled the Koala and it turned and ran away to the base of the nearby tree again. It climbed to about half way up then stopped and continued to look at me as before. What should I do now I wondered? Although it was a long shot, I decided to walk up to the house and get the camera. Naturally when I returned it had gone. I searched the surrounding trees but it had completely disappeared. I realise now that I should have, perhaps, stayed there and left all the moves up to the Koala. After that day my attitude to Koalas completely changed. Those eyes that I gazed into had a wonderful intelligent gaze. I think I saw the same Koala a month or two later, and this time I had a camera with me. I talked to it again and it did move along the branch in my direction but did not climb down the tree. However I did get a picture of it which I will put below. I called it “Friendly Fred”. Sightings in recent years have been rare, although we have heard the males calling at night in the breeding season so they are still out there. Also very adept at hiding in the forest are the Wallabies. For some reason these Wallabies, classed as Swamp Wallabies, are the shiest that I have ever encountered and if on the rare occasion that one strays out of the protective canopy of the forest it will rapidly disappear at the slightest sound or movement. The photos that I have taken have been in the quiet of the early morning and only obtained by sneaking up to the nearest window and slowly putting the camera in a position to take the picture. Fortunately the new digital cameras are quiet, and not like the old 35mm film cameras with focal plane shutters that used to make a loud clattering sound. With houses all around the forest one would expect them to be seen more often, but this is not the case. Sometimes I have been walking along the fire trail that runs through the forest and have heard the sounds of them rapidly hopping away, but not seen them.
The Parrots. I have mentioned the Rainbow Lorikeets before, and the pair that claimed us originally, have been with us for many years now. However, unlike the Turkeys, they are very noisy. They fly in in the morning and again in the evening to gobble up a small amount of bread soaked in honey solution and fly off again. As a bird species they are probably one of the least likely to become extinct because they are very adaptable to the human environment. I once saw a pair drinking left over coffee that was sitting on the table of an outdoor restaurant. They seem to eat practically anything and are very aggressive to all other birds and each other. Anyone who has ever lived close to a Rainbow Lorikeet roosting tree will know what I am talking about. They insist on all roosting together at night, then each one wants to sit on the branch that another one is sitting on. Consequently there is much quarreling
The Birds. It did not take long for the seed eating birds to find our small feeder hanging from a corner on the Hills Hoist, and in no time at all we had quite a collection of birds calling in. For the nectar eaters there were Grevilleas and Bottle Brushes about the grounds and enough insects about the forest to keep the others busy. In the first couple of years I counted about 63 bird species in the area around the house. One of the most interesting birds of the feeder were the Red Brow Finches. They always travelled in a group making high pitched “Twee” sounds and, when alighting on the feeder, the most dominate one would chase the others away. What had me fascinated though was the courtship behaviour of the males. It came to my attention when I observed one of the males flying along carrying a very long stalk of grass. Was he nest building I wondered?. When I saw another male doing this I went and consulted one of the bird books in the library, and discovered that it was “courtship behaviour”. Apparently the longer the blade of grass, the better the chances are for the suitor. It looks quite funny though to see such a little bird flying along with a very long piece of grass. In later years they all disappeared. Apparently they build their nests in people’s gardens, thus making them very susceptible to cats. Other birds of the feeder are the Wonga Pigeons. They are large, quite attractive birds in grey and white but they have one characteristic that makes them very vulnerable to predators as well. They prefer walking to flying and at least two of ours became victims of the neighbour’s cat. All that was left behind would be a small pile of feathers. However, they are very timid where humans are concerned and will fly away at the merest sight of one. Our learned friend said the this maybe because they are very good eating and were hunted almost to extinction in the early colonial days. Other visitors included a Goshawk, an Emerald Dove, Topknot Pigeons, Cougal Pheasant, Scarlet Honey Eater, Sacred Kingfisher, Eastern Spinebill, Tawny Frogmouths, Dollar Birds, Yellow Robins, Whip Birds, Koels, Eastern Spinebills, Pallid Cuckoo, Olive Backed Oriole, Figbirds, Brown Cuckoo Dove, Grey Shrike Thrush, Golden Whistler, Spotted Turtle Dove, Spectacled Monarch to name a few. One of the favourities were the Spangled Drongos. How they got that unfortunate name I do not know, but when I was growing up a “Drongo” meant a very stupid person, and they are far from being stupid. They are jet black, but in certain lighting conditions they display a colourful iridescence. Their standout feature that makes them easy to recognise are their fork tails. They are usually seen in pairs and can rapidly adapt to an urban environment. We had one who used to come in with the Kookaburras as it knew that it would get a few bits of the Kookaburra’s food tossed its way. We called it “Flash” as it was very quick to catch anything thrown its way. Flash came for a couple of seasons, and when it arrived for the third it flew around making a lot of noise as if greeting old friends, then disappeared. My guess was that it was a young bird and it found a mate in the third season and moved to another part of the forest.
The Bowerbirds. The forest is home to three types of bowerbirds. The most common are the Satin Bowerbirds with the male colouration being jet black while the female is a mixture of greens and speckled browns. Both sexes have beautiful blue eyes when mature, and the deep black of the male has a blue sheen under certain light conditions. The male builds a bower of twigs arranged in such a way as to form a tunnel with an entrance decorated with mostly blue objects. They are very social birds and travel about in groups. One day a female found her way into our lounge room because a door had been left open, so Roger had to catch it to take it out doors again. While in the catching process the bird began emitting loud shrieking distress sounds, and in no time at all there were other bowerbirds flapping at the windows as they tried to come to the aid of their comrade. It was like a scene from the old Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds”. When released she joined the other birds and they all flew away. In lesser numbers are the Regent Bowerbirds, who, like the others, arrive during late Winter for the nesting season in the Spring. Again the male and female are quite different with the male sporting colours of bright orange to yellow and black, while the female is speckled in shades of brown, with a black patch on her head. They sometimes mix with the Satins but the males seem to prefer a more solitary existence and can often be seen flying alone through the forest. Their bright yellow colouring makes them very easy to see amidst the dark greens and black shadows of the forest. Like the Satins, the males are bower builders, but I have never seen any of their bowers. Unfortunately their numbers have dropped during the past few years, and are seldom seen now. . Last, but not least, are the Catbirds. These are classed as bowerbirds although the male does not build a bower. Both sexes look the same with an emerald green colouration adorned with white spots and, unlike the other bowerbirds, are monogamous. Their eyes are red when mature and both share in the nesting duties. They are named because of their call which is a similar sound to that made by a cat when someone stands on its tail. Fortunately it is not the only sound it makes. The other is a soft bell like “ding!” The Catbirds seem far more intelligent than the other bowerbirds, and quickly learn how to gain the attention of humans. When the bowerbirds arrive and begin nesting we usually leave out some sultanas to help them in the task of feeding their babies. If the bowl is empty the other Bowerbirds just fly away. Not so the Catbirds. They will sit on the rail calling with their bell like “ding” sound to let us know that they are there and the bowl is empty. If we do not react then they resort to the peace shattering “MEeeOoow”! They have other methods to attract attention like tapping on the windows. We were totally engrossed in watching a suspense thriller movie one afternoon and during one of the creepy bits a Catbird hurled itself at the nearby window flapping like mad. I got such a fright I almost fell out of my chair. I looked out and there was the Catbird sitting on the rail looking very pleased with itself, knowing it had now finally got our attention. It must have been trying to get our attention earlier but with all the car chases and explosions it was unsuccessful, We paused the movie and I went and got some sultanas and placed them on the small table on the deck. The Catbird was sitting on a nearby branch watching. When I appeared with the sultanas it called “Ding” and jumped down to fill its beak with them to carry off to their babies. We restarted the movie and carried on with our viewing. With the end of the Summer they all disappear again.
The Bush Turkeys. The most ubiquitous of the forest dwellers are the Bush Turkeys. These large, not very attractive, birds just wander about all day looking for items that they consider edible. They are not shy, but keep their distance from humans, who in turn, don’t like the Turkeys because of their tendency to dig up their garden beds looking for worms. However I have found them to be very intelligent and capable of understanding commands. They are mostly ground dwellers, yet in all my travels around Australia, I have never seen one as a road kill victim. They approach the road carefully and casually, but the moment they start to cross the road if they see a car approaching, they put their head down and run like mad. Unlike most of our animals, and birds, they know that the road represents danger. Their reproduction process is quite amazing in itself. The dominate male (in our case we called him “Henry” because of his number of “wives”) builds a large mound with leaf litter that he has scraped up from the forest floor with his large feet. The females then come and lay their eggs there in the rotting vegetation. This decaying leaf matter produces the warmth that the eggs need to hatch. However the eggs are very sensitive to temperature and it is the males job to test the temperature with his beak and adjust it accordingly. The temperature of the mound must be kept between 33C and 35C (91F to 95F). The bird is able to do this by adding or subtracting the amount of litter around the eggs. If the temperature is in the higher range more females are produced, and a degree cooler will produce more males. To my way of thinking it is absolutely incredible that the male bird is somehow able to measure the temperature so precisely. When the chicks hatch they are completely on their own, and must learn immediately to take care of themselves. One of the first things that we purchased was a bird feeder and hung it from the Hills Hoist. The numerous birds soon found it and in no time at all the Turkeys discovered that when birds were eating at the feeder they spilt some seed on to the ground below. Consequently there was always a Turkey or two scratching around looking for fallen seed beneath the container. Sometimes when I was topping it up a Turkey or two would appear and stroll along up to the feeder, knowing that I would toss a few seeds their way. The most annoying aspect of the Turkeys is that they have a pecking order. Firstly the dominant male eats, in this case Henry, but chases all the others away first. After he has finished, the next one in the pecking order steps forward and chases away all the other lower order ones. One day I had had enough and when I threw some seed down for them all to eat and Henry started to chase the others I stood between him and the rest and said “No!” very loudly. Each time he did this I stepped between him and the others until he learnt to keep to his own area. It was wonderful to see them all eating peacefully for a change. I had forgotten about this until a few months later when I was in the front of the house and a few Turkeys appeared. I tossed them a handful of seed and Henry immediately started to chase the others away. I called out “No” loudly and was astonished to see Henry stop in his tracks and return to eating his own portion of the seed. He had remembered the command after one lesson. Their unwillingness to share gets very frustrating and makes me feel sad for the one at the bottom of the pecking order. One afternoon after I tossed them a few grains and the rejected one was looking sad in the background I caught her eye and waved an arm saying “Go round the back!”.. I went to the back door and looked out, and there she was coming around the corner to present herself at the back door. I was really amazed!. Some also understand when I say “Wait here!” and point to the ground. I then go and get some seed and give it to them as they wait patiently at the door. Henry has also been known to wander in down stairs if the door is left open. However he is no trouble to get out again with a bribe of seed. We have had the occasional Wonga Pigeon wander in downstairs too if the door is left open, and Roger has had to catch it to take it outside again. When this first happened he put it down on the ground and it immediately lay there momentarily and raised its rear into the air. I thought it was injured at first, but it soon righted itself and ran away up the drive. (They prefer walking to flying!). Later I checked up and found out that it was a behavioural pattern of Wongas. Lying on the ground and raising their rear end means something like “I am very angry with you!!” or in cruder terms: It gave Roger “the finger!”….Henry’s latest effort of disruption occurred quite recently. We had been leaving out some bird seed out on the top deck for the King Parrots. The Turkeys know this and wait around on the ground below to catch any seed that falls over from the hanging tray. One day I heard a noise and a crash out on the upper deck and went out to check. I was dismayed to find Henry walking about there. He had come up to find the source of the seed. Now these Turkeys can fly but are not very good at it and look rather cumbersome when doing it. They have never tried to fly to the top deck in the past, probably because the vertical lift would be too much for them. However, to Henry the thought of finding more seed was too much and he successfully attempted it. In the aeroplane world it would be like a jumbo jet trying to land on an aircraft carrier. How was I going to get Henry back down below I thought? The obvious thing would be to throw some seed over and he would fly back down to get it. It worked well and Henry returned to his rightful place on the ground below. As I returned to my work, thinking how clever I was to get Henry off the deck so easily, I heard another thump. When I walked out to investigate the noise again, there was Henry once more standing on the deck looking very pleased with himself. To my dismay I realised that Henry took the bird seed that I threw over the side as a reward for flying up to the top deck, so he did it again to get another reward of bird seed. I then ran towards him waving my arms about calling out “No Henry! Bad bird!”. He got the message this time and flew back down below, and has not repeated his flying feat again. That was the second time that he got himself into trouble. The first time was to do with the bird feeder hanging from the Hills Hoist. As I mentioned before the dominate male of the species constructs an elaborate nesting mound sometimes three or four feet high. Henry’s was down near the creek and quite large, but he decided to build another one - under the Hills Hoist. His reasoning was quite sound. There were leaves all around in the forest and easy to gather up. A clear space to rake them uninterrupted to the site, and a food supply of spilt seed for the young when they hatched. However he did not factor an irate Roger into the equation. “He’s what!” shouted Roger when informed of Henry’s latest enterprise. “He can’t build his mound there!” he added. From then on it was a battle between the two of them. Roger would go and rake up the leaves and put them in the compost bin, and the next day more would be there again. Eventually Henry got the message and built his new mound just inside the forest boundary. A further plus for the Turkeys is that they are mostly silent. Other birds screech and scream and annoy people no end with their raucous calls at all hours of the day and night. Not so the Turkeys. Their only sound is a rare, quiet “Awk!” Some might say that they are not a pretty bird with their large body, long narrow neck and small head, but even this has its advantages. Like many cities Coffs has its Church of the Latter-day Saints, which is not far away from us. Consequently we often get pairs of nicely dressed young men brandishing Bibles knocking at our front door. One gets the opinion that they have just stepped of the plane from the U.S.A. and they try their best to convert us. I can’t be bothered with them but Roger always answers the door because he likes to argue with them. One day they were at the front door and going through their usual spiel when one of the Bush Turkeys suddenly flew in from a nearby tree and landed on the rail beside them. “A Vulture!” one of them cried out and they both immediately retreated up the driveway.
The Ground Dwellers. Quite the reverse of the Wallabies are the Water Dragons who do not seem worried about the presence of humans at all. They are only seen during the warm months, as they don’t like the cold and hibernate all through the winter. When the warm weather arrives they can be seen lying around the banks of the creek, or the edge of the forest or lurking around home gardens ever watchful for an insect to eat. I have also seen them high up in the branches of trees perhaps searching for a nest or two to steal the eggs. They are very good swimmers and can stay underwater for lengthy periods. I have sometimes had to step over them when walking along the forest pathway as they have refused to move. They eat mostly insects and some types of vegetation, and, like their cousins, the Goannas, they will hang around picnic areas looking for scraps. One of our neighbours, three houses down, had one that spent his time beside their ornamental rock pool and would willingly accept any handouts of food. They called him Frodo. Just recently they moved house and another family moved in with a couple of small dogs. It was soon after this that we found that we had a new inhabitant of our garden. A very large Water Dragon. We have always had Water Dragons about and the biggest problem with them was that they tended to sun themselves on the warm concrete driveway. Consequently we had to be very careful when driving in or out to avoid running over them. This new dragon was a bit of a character and would even chase the Bush Turkeys away if we were giving them something that he thought he may like. It was quite funny to see a large Bush Turkey being chased by a Water Dragon! We suspected that he might be Frodo from down the road so we called him Frodo too. We noticed that he usually appeared when we were sitting on the deck for morning or afternoon coffees, knowing that we would probably toss him something to eat. The Tsunami : The female dragon digs a hole in the ground anywhere, deposits her eggs, covers them up, and walks away. Her job is done. One day we found some eggs deposited in a hole dug in the footpath on the retaining wall between the lower deck and the forest. She must have been disturbed and run away before she could cover them up. We finished the job for her and covered the eggs, thinking that maybe we could watch them hatching. This was not to be, however, as one night a week or two later, we heard a loud bang followed by a crashing sound, then the sound of a large amount of rushing water. Had there been a sudden storm and we hadn’t heard it? We rushed outside on to the deck to see what was going on and were astonished to see a deep mass of water pouring across and down the front driveway. It just looked like we had been hit by a tidal wave, only that was impossible because we were on a hill three or four kilometres away from the sea. At the same time we noticed our neighbours walking around with torches in their backyard. Then I understood what had happened. Their huge above ground pool had burst, and our front driveway, being below their yard had been hit with a wall of water. Fortunately it did not get into the lower level of the house, but it did wash away the retaining wall carrying our footpath and all the dragon eggs. Peter rebuilt the retaining wall and restored the footpath, but we had no hope of finding the eggs as they had been taken away in the Tsunami…In the warmer months we also see the occasional Blue Tongue Lizard, and like the Dragons, they often lay their eggs in the vicinity of the house, which results in us trying to hide the young from the sharp eyed Kookaburras who regard them as “good tucker”. Sometimes we are successful, but sometimes not. Another creature of the garden is something that I did not know even existed until we moved here. It is called a “Mullet”. Now I thought a Mullet was a fish or a type of men’s hair cut. But there is a third Mullet - a Land Mullet. It is the largest member of the skink family and has acquired its name because of the fish like scales that cover its body. It is about the size of a Blue Tongue Lizard and is non venomous and rather shy. Another unusual member of the Lizard family that only appears at night is the Leaf-tailed Gecko. I had never seen any before until I found one in the down stairs sink. It had fallen in and couldn’t get out. On a tree trunk in the bush it would be virtually invisible as it is perfectly camouflaged to look like a leaf. However in a kitchen sink or clinging to brickwork they easily standout. Unlike the house Geckos of the tropics, these are so quiet and unobtrusive that one would not know that they were there. Thankfully being handled by a human does not seem to worry them as the ones that I have had to handle did not drop their tails. Apparently if they think they are being threatened they drop their tails as a decoy for their attacker. Then they just go away and grow a new one. Perhaps this is an evolutionary trend that humans are yet to catch up on. One of the rarer creatures of the forest is the Green Tree Snake. It is non venomous and attractive to look at with a body of emerald green with a yellow underside. I have seen only three in all our time here. The first one was small in size and located in a rose bush in the driveway. As I knelt down to look at it, talking to it as I did so, I was surprised to see it start to come towards me flicking its small tongue back and forth. It seemed as interested in me as I was of it. The next one was much larger and at the back of out garden shed, about to slide under the fence into the property next door. It was almost two metres long and as it slid under the fence I climbed up on a large pot that enabled me to look over the fence to watch its progress. Naturally I began talking to it and was again amazed to see it change direction and start coming towards me again. As it was quite large, cowardice won the day and I retreated to the sanctuary of the house. Other people may have them as cuddly pets. But not me!.. The third was about to cross a busy road nearby, but stopped when I began talking to it, which gave me enough time to find a stick to use to divert it back into some bushes that it had emerged from. A rarer animal that only made an appearance once was an Echidna when it waddled out of the forest and explored the back lawn. It even started to dig a hole, perhaps seeking an ant’s nest, but eventually gave up and disappeared back into the forest never to be seen again.
The Bad Guys. Every Paradise has its serpent. In our case we have more than one. The first one we saw was curled up sunning itself just below the side retaining wall. We called our neighbour, the all knowledgeable upside Peter to identify it. He pronounced it to be a deadly Brown Snake and dropped a very large rock on it. I think it missed because it scampered away in fright. I was reluctant to believe Peter’s identification of it because it had faint light pink stripes and yellow around the eyes. However, I learnt very early in life to never argue with a school teacher. It was only when doing research for this article that I discovered that the colourful snake was in fact a Yellow Faced Whip Snake and was not considered dangerous. We never saw that traumatised snake again. However we have seen, and are very careful of, the Brown Snakes. They do have the ability to kill humans and are considered to be the second most deadliest snake in the world. The other snake we have to be careful of is the Red Bellied Black Snake which is also classed as poisonous but is not the threat that the Brown is. They are very rarely seen however and if we are moving about in an over grown area where they might be present I make sure that we make lots of noise to let them know we are about. This means that they won’t be surprised by your passage and have time to get away. Usually they will only bite when they are disturbed and have no escape route. Roger, being English, has always had trouble accepting the fact that there are deadly snakes are out there and is still reluctant to believe that “They will only harm you, if they think that you are about to harm them!”!”…Within a couple of months I discovered that this assumption was wrong; very wrong! As we were getting along really well with our upside neighbours, Peter and Lyn, Peter asked one day if we would like to accompany them on a trip to Platypus Flats in the Dorrigo National Park at the weekend. We both laughed at the fair dinkum Aussie name, and agreed that with a name like “Platypus Flats”, how could we refuse! The flats camp area, Peter told us, was on the banks of the Nymbodia River which was noted for its white water rafting. As we set forth in Peter’s 4WD Nissan Patrol the day was bright and sunny and we were looking forward to the drive. Now the Dorrigo plateau is reached via what is known as “The Waterfall Way”, a very scenic sealed winding road that climbs up the mountain side with tumbling waterfalls on many of the bends. However, when we left home, Peter informed us that we would not be going that way but would be taking a shorter route up the mountain side. It was an unsealed dirt road for four wheel drive vehicles only. My initial enthusiasm declined rapidly as I remembered our last adventure drive up a slippery unsealed mountain road in North Queensland with an ex rally driver behind the wheel as he took us in a fruitless quest to find a Golden Bowerbird. Here my fears were unfounded, however, as Peter handled the Nissan very well on the scenic drive and got us to the top of the mountain range quite effortlessly.
Although we were now in a National Park there were a few houses about, which, Peter explained were the homes of the mountain folk. I noticed a sign on the gate of one of the homes that said “Never mind the dog. Beware of the owner!” After a while I noticed that we appeared to be driving along a ridge and a short time later Peter pulled the car over off the road and said “There is a good view here of the Nymboida River in the gorge below.”
We then got out of the vehicle and followed Peter up to a high rocky escarpment where we were able to look down on the river below. All of a sudden Lyn yelled out “Snake!”
Naturally we all looked immediately to where she pointed and saw a very large snake, probably a python, coming over the rocky edge. It didn’t end either. It just kept coming and coming over the cliff edge right towards us. I remember thinking This is all wrong! Snakes don’t come at people like this!”
“Run!” Lyn yelled.
“Let‘s go!” said Roger.
“After I take a shot!” said I nervously adjusting the camera.
“Leave it!” yelled Roger with the Python only a few feet away.
I quickly grabbed a shot and raced to join the others. Unfortunately the track down had tall grass on either side. Visions of what could be hiding in that long grass haunted us as we raced to the safety of the car. When we reached the car we quickly wound up all the windows up and sat there gripped in nervous laughter.
“What were you saying about snakes never attacking people?” said Roger.
“Well nobody told that one.” I replied sheepishly. “I really don’t understand it.”
“It might have been a female, protecting its eggs.” offered Lyn.
We discussed the incident for some time, but ended up agreeing that snakes, like people, don’t always behave in the way they are supposed to. When we reached Platypus Flats we found it to be a very picturesque area beside the fast flowing Nymboida River with abundant growth and steep cliffs on either side. It had limited camping facilities and gave one the feeling of complete isolation; especially as we were the only ones there. While we were exploring the place we heard voices from upstream, so we hurried to find a viewpoint to see what was going on. Just in time we broke through the undergrowth and saw a raft of white water thrill seekers coming around the bend towards us. Hurriedly we set the cameras just as they hit the rapids in front of us and grabbed our shots. It looked a lot of fun, but would be very problematic should one wish to sit there in the raft taking photographs.We all had a great day in the splendid isolation of the National Park, and it was not an easy place to leave. Peter got us home safely again via the 4WD track in the late afternoon and as we drove into Coffs Harbour we were very surprised to see evidence that the city had had a big storm. The small creek near our homes had burst its banks and was not far from flooding over the road. Yet where we had come from there was no indication of any storm whatsoever - another quirk of nature perhaps
A couple of years later Roger’s sister Doris came out to visit us from England. I was really concerned about the snakes as I knew that English folk aren’t as blasé about these reptiles as we Aussies are. We had just had a beautiful warm sunny winter, and we were well into a hotish dry Spring. It was ideal snake weather. I became quite worried about it because just recently Roger had gone out the back door and found a Brown Snake curled up on the step enjoying the sunshine. His foot was poised above it before he realised it was there. Doris would be in the down stairs bedroom and I began thinking what would happen if she left the back door open and a snake slithered into her bedroom!! I was really worried about it. Anyway Doris arrived, and the lovely sunny weather continued and we took her all around the beautiful sights of Coffs and the Dorrigo plateau, impressing her greatly. Then one morning when we were about to go somewhere again I went down to see if she was ready - and was horrified to see a small brown snake lying in the laundry adjacent to her door, with the back door closed behind it. What to do I thought in a panic. First thing to do was to carefully close the connecting door to her bedroom to prevent the snake from slithering into her room. Just the thought of it filled me with horror! After quietly closing her door I slowly grabbed the floor squeegee that was lying against the wall, and started whacking the snake with its hard edge with all the force I could muster. However it was not behaving as a snake under attack should. It was bouncing up and down with the blows. I stopped and stared at it and realised that it was made of rubber or plastic. Then her face appeared at the door and she sheepishly said “I thought I would play a trick on you”. She then went on to tell me that she had bought the realistic snake in Bangkok for one of her grandchildren. I picked up the very battered, now broken toy snake and handed it back to her saying “You will now have to call in at Bangkok again on the way back and buy him another one!!. Thankfully, we had managed to rid the house of Red Back spiders before her arrival. We had found a few around the garage door but an all out attack with the insect spray got rid of them. Other bad guys here are so minute that the victims don’t know they have been bitten until it is too late. Here I am referring to ticks and leeches. Generally, in nature, all life has a purpose in the great scheme of things, but with these I fail to see what their purpose could be except to cause annoyance at best, and severe illness at the worst. Ticks are definitely the worst of all because you have no idea that you have picked one up until a slight itch begins a day or two later. On investigation you discover a small hard body imbedded in your skin that is difficult to dislodge. The danger here is that in removing it, the head sometimes separates and remains in place to cause further problems. It can also inject the victim with a toxin that causes a burning feeling inside the veins resulting in severe illness in some cases. Leeches are easily dislodged by pouring salt on them, but they leave behind an irritating itch that can last for days. Fortunately both these invaders of the body are more a summer problem when the air is warm and moist.
The Python & the Possums. So far I have not mentioned The Diamond Python!….We first noticed the python curled up in the branches of a tree visible from the bathroom window. It spent quite a few weeks there in the middle of winter one year and then it disappeared. A couple of years later it appeared on the top deck one night. It had come up via the Philodendron creeper that had attached itself to the supporting brick pillar. As I watched part of it was still emerging from the creeper and the other half was sliding along the deck. It was a rather disturbing sight and made my flesh crawl to see such a thing a few feet from our lounge room. However, photographic instincts prevailed and I called to Roger to grab the cameras. As we were adjusting them, I found to my astonishment that we had another visitor, for, sitting between the two of us was a Brushtail Possum. It was shivering, presumably in fright, as it watched the python intently. “Don’t fall over the possum.” I quickly said to Roger. We were both somewhat surprised as we had not seen any possums here before, despite the fact that we were now into our sixth year. We knew that they were about, but had never encountered any until that night, and here was one sitting between us on our deck showing no fear of us at all, but shivering in fright at the Python. In the preceding weeks we had been puzzled by the disappearance of left over bird seed in the hanging tray under the eaves. Because of its position we cannot see who or what is eating the seed because of its positioning behind a brick pillar. We had both caught a glimpse of a tail as the seed thief quickly disappeared into the creeping vine. We thought then that it may be a possum or a bush rat. However, I thought it unlikely that it would be a possum because possums don’t eat bird seed. I was wrong! They love it!. So anyway, we now had a slithering, sliding python on the deck, and one very frightened possum. We took a few shots with the cameras, then I grabbed a broom and managed to persuade the python to turn around and exit they way it had come up. I gave the possum some of the bowerbird’s sultanas, which it gobbled up quickly, and we then left the scene. It was the next day that I discovered that the possum was having its daytime sleeps under the barbecue on the deck. The small barbecue was covered by a full length plastic cover which reached to the floor and would have made an excellent hide away for the possum. I only discovered it there because the barbecue cover bulged at the bottom, and when I poked it I found it to be soft as if it was supporting a body. It then dawned on me that it could have been hiding there for weeks, which would accustom it to our voices and our comings and goings. Fortunately for the possum the barbie was almost never used because on those warm summer nights when we would have used it, we chose not to because its light attracted the moths who seemed determined to plunge into its flames. Some were very large and beautiful and I just could not live with the shame of causing the death of one of those beautiful creatures. After that night we saw more of the possum and I got into the habit of leaving out fruit peelings and melon rinds for it to it.(as well as a few sultanas). Because it seemed to waddle when it walked we called it Mister Waddles. It was completely at ease with us so Roger made a box home for him out of a large cardboard box and put two way exit/entrance doors in either end for safety. He would roam the deck at night eating his food scraps and leftover bird seed, before departing to do his neighbourhood rounds. Sometimes he would sit at the glass doors looking in at us sitting inside, and I knew that he was longing to get in to explore our lounge room. However, from previously living in the country, I knew how dangerous a possum inside a house could be so we were careful to always keep the deck door closed. When panicked those large sharp claws could rip the place apart. He got us laughing one night though, for he slowly crawled up the insect screen licking it all the way as he did so. Then a few months later, Isobel, and old friend came for dinner one night. Naturally Mister Waddles appeared at the glass door looking at everyone, hoping for an invitation to join us. Isobel was intrigued and the conversation swung to Mister Waddles and his behaviour. As we were talking he sat up on his hind legs like a kangaroo does and a small black tail became visible in his centre. We blinked a little and Isobel laughed and said “ er ..something seems to tell me that you got the gender wrong guys! She appears to have a pouch with a baby in it.”... About a week later Mrs Waddles appeared with a baby possum clinging to her back. The baby was of a grey colouring, like her, and very cute. Then a few nights later she appeared with a different baby on her back. This one, however, had a more rusty colouring. I was very surprised as Brushtail Possums usually have only one baby. It would be quite an effort for her to raise two babies so we helped her out by making sure that she always had something in her tray to eat every night. I knew that our place was not her only source of food as she roamed all around the neighbourhood checking her other sources. For the next few weeks she would appear with one or the other on her back and we watched as they learnt to eat. A little later on she decided it was time for them to go their own way, and began to chase them away. One night baby number two tried to sneak in and grab some of the food and she chased it away. To escape it climbed up the smooth enamel surface of a light stand that we had placed in the corner in an effort to try and capture some movie footage. Roger took a quick shot of it looking a little sad. The picture was printed in the local paper, together with a few others that we sent them. There were often scuffles out on the deck, and we discovered that there was another possum about, a little bit larger than Mrs Waddles. Maybe it might have been her amorous male friend. I don’t know what they would get up but there seemed to be a lot of chasing going on. If either of us went out to investigate the noise and see what was happening, they would freeze in their tracks and give us that “It wasn’t me look!”.. Mrs Waddles still came every night, though now a bit later as we suspected she was now spending her nights somewhere else. We previously had to remove the barbecue cover for it got torn and tatty and her box home got a bit damaged in a ruckus one night so we threw it out. She soon became a member of the family and would come when called and accept food from our hands, even allowing us to stroke her lovely soft fur as she ate. In the Autumn of the next year we got that unwelcome visitor again. We were sitting out on the deck one afternoon having a coffee with me facing Roger who sat with the deck railing behind him near the pillar where the Philodendron creeper was. He was talking away about something and my gaze wandered to the deck railing behind him: and I froze!. “Sorry to interrupt you” I said “ But you have a large python on the railing behind you!”. Of course he practically fell out of his chair in fright!! As we watched, it slithered along and seemed to be heading for the roof. “We can’t let it get up there” I said and grabbed a broom that was nearby and began whacking it. Roger rushed inside and came back clutching a couple of cameras and began tacking pictures. It was quite a beautiful specimen of a Diamond Python, but would look so much better in the forest than up in our roof. Fortunately the roof eaves were sealed up pretty well, but we were taking no chances and were determined to prevent it from going any higher. Eventually I managed to dislodge it and at one stage it was dangling in space. When it did reach the rail again it slithered along and retreated down the creeper to the ground below. I thought then that it may have returned looking for the possums and we discussed chopping down the Philodendron creeper. However as it gave access to the deck for the Possums we left it as it was. Around about August we noticed Mrs Waddles licking the screen door again. Then in November that year Mrs Waddles produced another pair of babies again. One rusty brown and one grey coloured as before… That reminds me! I must remember to tell any lady friends that come to visit not to lick the screen door or they will become pregnant… Anyway, as they grew older she began to chase them away to make them fend for themselves. The grey baby though seemed to be favoured more than the other one. One day when it was raining the rusty one arrived in the morning and spent the day sleeping under the barbecue. It spent a lot of days there afterwards and would often wander about in the daylight, which is most unusual behaviour for a possum. It was very cute but looked a bit under nourished so I gave it some sultanas.
The Return.. March 2014. It was late in the evening a few months later and we had eaten our dinner and just done the washing up. I was wiping the cutlery and sitting at the end of the dining room table watching something on the small TV set in the corner, while Roger watched something on the large set in the lounge area. Beside me was the sliding glass door to the deck. The glass door was open but the insect mesh screen door, about half a metre from me, was closed. While watching the programme I happened to glance sideways and then glance back. However my brain registered that something was wrong. It said to me that there was an image there that should not have been there, so I turned my head back again and got the shock of my life. There was the python, its head level with mine, looking straight at me. Naturally I leapt up off the chair, dropped the cutlery and called something like “The python’s back!” Roger went to get the camera and I went to get the broom. I slid the mesh door back very slowly, so I could get the broom handle out and push the python away from the door. After a while this was successful and I was able to turn it away from the door area. It had now turned and was making its way across the chairs. Fortunately there were no possums about, but I wanted it off the deck anyway, so I took after it with the broom. My opportunity came when it slithered from one of the small tables across to the railing. I brought the broom up from underneath with all the force I could muster and tossed it into the air, well away from the house. It landed, quite unhurt, on the driveway below, where it moved very quickly to escape underneath the front gates. “You spoilt my shot!” said Roger who had been filming it sliding over the chairs and table. “Next time I’ll do the filming, and you remove the python then.” I said. He declined my offer…..
Moths. When we first moved into the house it was late spring with the summer just ahead of us. As Coffs was in the more temperate zone we looked forward to having a few Barbecue dinners on the lower deck, so we bought ourselves one of those large barbecues. However we overlooked one thing - moths. This would not be a problem with a barbecue lunch, but we always ate a light lunch and had a cooked dinner at night. As soon as they sun disappeared lights were turned on and we sat back to enjoy a couple of beers first. When it became time to light the barbie and put on our steaks we discovered that we had other guests. They were attracted by the lights and flew in from the forest. Consequently a lot of our time was spent chasing moths away from the deadly flames. One night in particular a beautiful large moth flew in and seemed determined to incinerate itself in the flames. The deaths of these beautiful creatures was all too much to have on one’s conscience so night time barbecues were abandoned. It was many years later that I started to take an interest in photographing them. They were very numerous during the warm summer evenings and frequently flew in to land on our window panes. Fortunately insect screens kept them out of the house. Photographing them on the windows led me to discovering a most amazing thing that I never knew before. Many moths had different patterns and colours on their underside than they had on their topside. A lot of the designs and patterns were to help them go unseen while resting on the bark of trees. Other moths, however, have bright colours on their wings like butterflies and would therefore stand out as easy prey for a predator. It was another mystery of Nature. Why should some moths be very well camouflaged while others have colours to make them stand out? It was as if they were saying “Here I am, come and eat me.” I will put a selection of the more colourful ones below.
Beasties, Bugs and other Oddities. You never quite know what is going to appear up in the garden next, so I will put a few of the oddities below. The most disturbing was the aptly named Anemone Stinkhorn Fungus which caused us to think that we had a problem with the sewerage until we found the offending fungi growing in the lawn. Its smell is designed to attract flies who spread the spores when they walk through the vile smelling muck that they have on display. The Phallus Fungi was more welcome as it did not appear to have the offensive odour of the bright red Anemone Fungi. The garden is always throwing up surprises so I will put a few below…………….
January 2015 - “Reptilian Revelations”
Just after Christmas 2014 we had some more wild life drama and Mrs Waddles, the possum, possibly saved my life. I know that sounds a bit melodramatic, and is stretching the facts a bit, but things could have had a nasty result. Mrs Waddles comes every night to nibble on left overs from the kitchen, like melon rinds, or paw paw peelings. She also loves spaghetti and rice too. If she wants a special treat like sultanas or dried prunes, she will lightly tap my feet with her paws when I walk outside and I will go back in to get her some. When the moths arrive later in the evening I grab the camera and walk out on the deck to see if there is anything new to photograph. This particular night I walked out with the camera and was met at the door by Mrs Waddles, who began tapping my feet. “I just gave you some sultanas!” I said, but still she kept following me and tapping my feet. Her behaviour puzzled me as she had never been this persistent before. At this stage she still had her latest baby clinging to her back so I wandered back inside for a moment to find something to give her. When I walked out on the deck again I froze!. Mrs Waddles had now moved to the corner of our L shaped deck and was in her “Danger Alert” pose watching something around the corner. This is not good I thought and slowly walked over to her to see what she was looking at. To my horror I saw a very large Brown Snake lying half hidden in the shadows of the small table and chairs. It was right beside the big window where I was about to go to seeking moths to photograph. As it is dark there I wouldn’t have seen it lying in the shadows. Was Mrs Waddles trying to warn me? I wondered. I raced inside to tell Roger but he didn’t hear me as he was watching a noisy war movie on television. I grabbed the camera, went to the corner, and took a couple of shots, then again called Roger. This time he heard me and we both returned to the corner to check on our reptilian visitor. This time, however, I saw that it was coiled up with its head raised right in front of Mrs Waddles and was preparing to strike her. I dashed to the corner where we keep a broom, quickly grabbed it and with one almighty whack sent it flying into space. We all just stood there and watched as it slithered off into the forest. Mrs Waddles took a while to settle down and walked about looking over the edge of the deck peering into the darkness below for any sign of the snake returning. I gave her a couple of prunes to settle her and her baby down. Next day, when I checked the photographs that I had taken with identification charts, I found it to be a Brown Tree Snake, still classed as venomous, but not as deadly as its land based namesake. I didn‘t even know that their was such a thing as a Brown Tree Snake……………..
Then in February 2015, something very weird happened. It occurred on one of our hottest days of the summer when the weather forecast for Coffs said that we were going to have a top temp of around 28. I thought it was much higher than that, so, before we left to go to the shops, I put a thermometer out on the deck to see what it really was. We had put the air conditioner on earlier so that it would be nice and cool when we returned. When we arrived back some time later I thought I would check on the temperature. As I slid the glass sliding door aside, a large snake immediately slithered quickly through the opening and went inside, almost travelling over my bare foot as it did so. It happened so fast that I hardly got a good look at it, but I did see that its top was a very dark colour. I yelled to Roger to warn him, and together we watched it disappear behind the bookcase and T.V. set.
“I think it’s a Brown!” I said.
“What do we do?” said Roger looking very, very, nervous.
“Well firstly we have to make sure it is contained here in the lounge room. That way we know where it is. We don’t want it loose somewhere in the house do we?”.. This thought filled us both with horror.
“Grab a broom.” I said.
So we grabbed a broom each and, as we were wearing shorts and bare footed, I suggested that we change into jeans and shoes to offer us more protection. While Roger changed, and I stood guard with the broom, I could see a small head looking out at me from behind one of the tall T.V. speakers. It was entwined in all the cables and paraphernalia at the back. When Roger returned, I left to change with him saying “What do I do if it runs out?”
“That’s a good question.” I said as I departed.
When I returned we discussed a plan of action, and decided that the best thing to do was to call in a snake handler. We got no response from the WIRES number, except to say that their phone was disconnected, so Roger then phoned Triple 0. The lady there contacted the police, who then notified a snake handler, who promptly phoned back. The first question he asked was what type of snake it was. When Roger told him what we thought, and gave the details he said that he doubted that it was a Brown, and would most likely be a Green Tree Snake, but he would come immediately. Grasping our brooms tightly we stood guard and watched the right hand side of the room where the entertainment gear was, and where we assumed the snake was hiding. However, after a few minutes we were very startled to see the snake travelling across the carpet coming towards us from our left hand side. It had made its way undetected via the lounge furniture and was coming at us from the other side. Fortunately I had left the deck door open hoping that it may return from where it had come from, so I decided we should try and manipulate it towards the open door with our brooms. It was having none of that and returned to the back of the T.V. area. “Back to square one!” I thought. However, in its dash for freedom we got a better look at it. Its top was a very dark shade of olive green, while its underside was a pale yellow. I now knew it to be a Green Tree Snake, as the handler suspected, and not considered dangerous. We breathed a deep sigh of relief (well I did anyway!) and just kept watch on it until the handler arrived. I pondered as to why it seemed to be waiting at the door as if it knew that at some point the door would open. I have seen dogs waiting for a door to open, and dash inside immediately it does, but never a snake!. As it was a very hot day, (33Degrees C.) and we had the air conditioner going so perhaps it was enjoying the little bit of cool air that found its way around the door seals. I have found too, that these curious snakes will come towards you if you talk to them. Perhaps it had been attracted to our voices inside. The snake handler arrived a short time later. His name was Steve and he was a typical Aussie with a suntanned, weather beaten face and a look of mischief in his eyes. He had his pretty daughter with him and, with Roger’s help, they began checking the areas where the snake might be hiding. All of a sudden Steve yelled “Watch out!“ and grabbed Roger. Poor old Roger seemed to leap into the air in fright. I knew that he was extremely nervous about the whole business, and, I guess, so did Steve. It was very unkind of us but we all burst into laughter at Roger’s reaction. Fortunately Roger saw the funny side of it too, and a few moments later Steve had the wriggling snake in his hands. Grasping it firmly behind its head he held it up and said “Green Tree Snake! some people have these as pets.” With its body wrapped around his arm he went down the stairs to the lower deck and walked over to the railing and casually tossed it over the side into the bushes where it wriggled off into its natural environment.
“Good area for Black Red-bellied Black snakes.” he said looking at all the surrounding vegetation.
“We’ve seen a few of those.” I replied “and have had a few Carpet Pythons and a Brown Tree Snake on the top deck.”
“You should start your own Reptile Park.” he suggested.
“No thanks!” we replied in unison.
Green Tree snake
Bigger and Stronger… One night, a couple of weeks later, I walked out on the top deck to check the moths again, but saw that our determined visitor had returned. The python was now much larger and was coiled through the corner roof support. It appeared to be heading for our roof again. I went and grabbed the camera, took a picture, then attacked it with the broom, whacking and shoving it, in an attempt to keep it from reaching our roof. Roger joined me but even with the two of us attacking it, it was now so strong and powerful that nothing that we could do was able to shift it. Its body was incredibly strong and I can now easily understand now how these pythons could crush a man to death. Its body was thicker than a man’s arm. Unfortunately we lost the battle with it this time and it reached our roof and disappeared. What we both feared the most had happened. It now had access to our ceiling and probably planned to spend its winter hibernation there. That night was a most uncomfortable night as we listened for any sound that might give away the fact that the python was moving about in the ceiling above us. A couple of weeks later we had a violent storm one night with heavy rain and a very strong wind. For the first time since we have been here we had a drip into the lounge room. It was seeping in via the light fitting. However, we both agreed that the ceiling was not the place to investigate in the darkness, so we just put a bucket on the floor to catch the drips. The next day was bright and sunny, so Roger volunteered to investigate the cause. Fortunately, because of its design, the area was well lit, but he could not find any reason for the drip; except perhaps the strong wind blew the water up under the eaves. Best news of all though was that he found no sign of the python.
April 2015: A Scary Discovery: As we were about to open the front door one day, we saw a Green Tree Snake slithering past. It made its way into a small garden bed by the door then proceeded to slither effortlessly UP the vertical brick wall beside the door. We were absolutely astounded, and shocked, as we could see that it was possibly making another attempt to get inside the house. It also raised the question of how a snake, without legs, wings or tentacles, could possibly climb a vertical brick wall??… I quickly grabbed a nearby broom and knocked it off as we did not want another snake getting into the house. It fell into the garden bed again, but was undaunted, and quickly began climbing the wall again. Somewhat in a state of shock, I raised the broom and knocked it back down again. The snake finally got the message and slithered into the surrounding garden area. Normally that would be the end of it with the snake quickly disappearing into the surrounding bush, as all snakes do. Not this one however. It slid along the garden bed for a short distance then stopped and did something totally unexpected. It raised its head above the cement border and looked directly across to us as if to say “What did you do that for?” I couldn’t believe it! Roger by now had grabbed a camera and a still from the movie footage is below.
"What did you do that for?"
Eventually, after reprimanding us, it made its way into the surrounding foliage. In an effort to understand what was going on I went to the font of all knowledge - Google! There the argument rages with some saying it is impossible for snakes to climb vertical walls, and others explaining how they do it. The real clincher is that someone has uploaded footage on YouTube of a snake climbing the smooth wall of Grandma’s house. (there is no information on what happened to Grandma!).
You Tube frame grab of snake climbing wall.
Apparently a snake is 85% muscle and it manipulates its belly scales somehow to enable it to achieve such a feat. Regardless of how it does it, it is something that makes me feel very uncomfortable. We never leave any doors or windows open, and everything has insect mesh anyway: still, it is rather creepy……… A recent visit from Queensland friends set me thinking about what seems to be a special something about Green Tree Snakes. I was telling them about how every Green Tree Snake that I have come across (three in total) has come towards me when I talk to them. I know it sounds absurd, but there it is. When I related this story, the gentleman said (somewhat cynically) “What do you say to them?”. It got me thinking about it again and I realised that it was not important at all what you say to them as snakes are deaf anyway. They “hear” by sensing vibrations. Normally when anyone sees a snake they scream or yell a warning, which would hit the snake as a sharp, heavy vibration that would cause it to quickly slither away. But if you say something silly like “Hello. How are you today?” in a soft even voice it may reach them as a smooth pleasant vibration and maybe cause them to be curious. To them, sudden loud sound vibrations would be interpreted as a danger signals. I guess that there many things in nature that we find difficult to understand, and this is just one of them……...As for the forest, well, we are now approaching Spring, yet it is largely silent. There is no nesting season this year because the Council has started poisoning all the non indigenous trees and shrubs, leaving the birds without their usual shelter and food sources. The bowerbirds all came, but left when they saw the dead or dying vegetation, as did all the other birds who depend on the forest, and come here to breed. When we first came here I countered over sixty bird species. Now we would not get even one third of that number. Even the Kookaburra visits are becoming less and less frequent. When we first arrived here there was a beautiful Weeping Willow tree where the creek passed under the road. Its long branches fell down to make a hanging canopy of green above the forest pathway and nearby creek. Being a non indigenous tree the council workers came and chopped it down. In doing so they changed the ecology of the creek area, for, with the shade gone, the weeds flourished and quickly smothered the pathway and the creek area. Council workers then came in and sprayed toxic weedkiller over everything. It killed the weeds and probably all the organisms that once flourished in the water. As the weeds all regrew it then became an annual task. However, the virus carrying Fruit Bats are still safe in their trees that nobody is allowed to interfere with, but it is quite okay to destroy the trees and shrubs that our native birds depend on. But who am I to challenge the wisdom of our very P.C. Council. I know they think they know what they are doing, and we must look after the Fruit Bats at all costs. Which is where this journal chapter started………..
“That is what I was trying to tell you!” I answered “As you had left the door open, Kelly flew in and I didn’t want you to frighten her.”
“I thought it was another snake when you said don‘t move.” he replied
“It’s just that we have to get her out without causing her to panic.” said I.
“She doesn’t look very panic stricken to me.” he answered, while the Kooka looked back and forth at us as we exchanged words. I then moved carefully to the fridge where I keep a supply of tiny mince balls to give to them, and, as we had heard the sounds of a baby Kooka somewhere in the nearby forest, I had some thawed out ready to go. I put some in a small dish, then went to the open door where I sat on the carpet with the dish of food. Kelly saw what I had then flew over to pick out a few meat balls to eat. She then picked up one and said, in Kookaburra language, “I’m going to take this back to my baby” and then flew out to the forest . We both breathed a sigh of relief that another surprise house guest had gone. Then later after lunch, Roger went out to do something on the deck and called out loudly “There’s another one!”
“Not funny Roger!” I called back thinking he was joking.
“No I’m not! It’s back! Or another snake! Quick shut the door.”
Everything then seemed to happen at once. I ran for the door, as Roger tried to beat the snake to the door . Somehow he got through just ahead of the snake and we slammed it shut.
“It came back!” he said.
Studying it more as it moved about the deck I said “No! it isn’t. The other one was much larger. It must have followed the scent trail of the larger one.”
“Do they do that?” he asked
“I guess so. Possums do it.”
“You mean it probably travelled up the wall by the downstairs door by following the trail of the larger one?”
“Yes, quite possibly, then they travel about the top deck hugging the wall. That’s why we don’t see them until they are at the door waiting for it to open.”
As it was now some distance from the door, I opened it and grabbed the broom that always rests there. It didn’t look like it was going to retreat, so I went after it with the broom. It was very reluctant to leave and charged at me a couple of times, but eventually I got it to slither back over the edge from whence it had come. Unlike the much larger one the day before that we watched slither away into the forest, this one just went over the edge and disappeared. Roger had already run down stairs to see if he could see where it had gone, but there was no sign of it. He seemed a bit worried by this but I reassured him by reminding him that at the speeds that they are capable of it would have been well and truly gone by the time he reached the front door. We had a can of surface spray to deter ants, so we sprayed it where we think the snakes travel up the wall by the front door. So far, now a couple of weeks later, we have had no more uninvited visitors and have a big sign on the sliding door saying “Keep this f - - - - - - door closed!”
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