In the golden light of early morning, I ran and walked beside a river turned to amethyst and next to the lush green of the golf club, wherein plumed whistling ducks and little corellas called greetings to the day.
Last week, Chris Johnson told Vilis about an animal movement conference being held in Melbourne in mid-March. With the conference theme right up Vilis’s alley, we’ve decided to attend, and since Melbourne lies just across Bass Strait from Tasmania, Vilis arranged our travel to include eight days of exploring in ‘Tassie.’
Northern Tasmania (© Vilis Nams)
Originally named Van Dieman’s Land,1 Tasmania is Australia’s island state and its smallest state by far. Hobart, the capital to which we’ll fly from Melbourne, was established as a penal colony in 1804 and is Australia’s second-oldest city (Sydney is older).2 Even today, a large proportion of Tasmania’s population is descended from the convicts transported to Hobart from England during the 19th century.3 On our arrival, we’ll rent a car and head out to do some bushwalking Tassie-style. And yes, we’ll look for Tasmanian devils. I can hardly wait.
At twilight, Vilis and I strode through the warm evening, a light wind pushing around air molecules. The lighting was too dull to discern birds, but that’s not what we were looking for. “Now, where do those bats come from?” Vilis murmured.
At 7:17 p.m., I noticed the first flying foxes, their bodies black silhouettes against blue sky, with stars studding the growing night above them. Again, they streamed westward, flying with those quick, stiff wing beats. Fifteen minutes after I saw the first bat, a few stragglers were still pumping air with skin wings.
Hearing a ruckus to the north, we continued on to Boundary Road, crossed it, and made our way through a grassy field to tall trees near the Townsville Civic Theatre. Perched in the trees, sulphur-crested cockatoos were sounding off like a rowdy crowd before curfew. Having identified the source of the racket, we returned home in the dark, the path through the green space north of Richard’s house barely visible. I wondered, particularly when picking my way through the grassy field beside the Civic Theatre, if snakes were out and about, and if nocturnal mammals had already engaged in their everynight activities. The brushtail possum, which spent three sleepy days on the exterior part of the air conditioning unit at Richard’s, was gone this morning. I did hear quite a thrashing, scratching racket during the night. Maybe the python’s back.
References:
1. James Stewart and Margo Daly. The Rough Guide to Tasmania. 2008. Rough Guides, New York, pp. 6; 2. Ibid, 65-66.
3. ABC Radio National, Life Matters. Talkback: a convict in the family. January 29, 2010. © 2010 ABC. Accessed 27-Feb-2010. http://www.abc.net.au/rn/lifematters/stories/2010/2804307.htm
