|
by David Morris
I m inclined to share the belief that birds evolved from the
dinosaurs. The pheasant coucal, for instance, is a bit of an
odd bird. It s quite common in this area; though not often seen,
being ather troglodyte in its habits. Reluctant to fly, it occasionally
makes half-hearted glides between bushes. The coucal seems like
a missing link. A feathered dinosaur. An Archaeopteryx perhaps,
skulking in the damp undergrowth, keeping its own secret paths.
I m fond of the bird: it has found a niche and keeps a low profile.
So I was delighted the other day to catch one singing. If you
can call it singing. It sat in a bush on a glorious day and
went oop-oop-oop -low repeated notes, like a beginner on a bassoon.
Wearing its dusky breeding plumage, the coucal was asserting
its territorial rights for once.
The coucal s bush grows in a reserve on top of Paterson Hill.
It overlooks what is now a declared National Park. The Premier
of NSW visited Byron in 2001 to name this area of outstanding
natural heritage the Arakwal National Park.
Whenever I walk up there and enjoy the magnificent panorama
from the lookout, the salmon-pink flush of the exposed rocks,
the seasonal flowering of the heath plants and the various bird
life, I feel a debt of gratitude to those who have con- tributed
to its preservation. For it has involved struggle and conflict.
Byron Bay is sometimes labeled a commu- nity with many odd birds
of the humankind. Yet it is just this rich mix of human types
that adds to the appeal of the place. Many have found a niche
of their own and make their individual contributions to community
life.
As populations increase and with them the demand for housing,
it is imperative such reserves of undeveloped land be set-aside
for the future. They are like oases in the urban desert and
will seem even more precious as time passes. Undoubtedly, such
land is desirable and comes under pressure to be released for
development. But we need these oases of natural envi- ronment,
just as we need those who strive to secure and preserve them.
I think of the 1980s struggle to save the forest on the Nightcap
ange near Nimbin; The conflict, the abuse leveled at those protesters.
Yet the forest has been set aside in part; conserved for the
enjoyment of future generations.
The world over, it is the green spaces, water, trees that help
make urban living more tolerable. How many office workers enjoy
lunch in the park or take a break there from the humming dynamo
of city life? Do they, I wonder, ever give silent acknowledgment
to those whose foresight included those parks in their city
plans?
I grew up in England, which is now even more densely populated
and experiencing all the problems of urbanization and pop- ulation
pressure on available land. Many of the open spaces and parks
in Britain were set aside as private estates by the great landowners;
though some have now reverted to public use. Others were deliberately
created by farsighted individ- uals who saw their vital importance
to our quality of life. Yet it wasn t always easy to find acceptance
for their ideas.
Years ago, when I first went to San Francisco, I took a bus
over the Golden Gate bridge to see the giant edwoods in a park
named for John Muir, an early Scots-American conservationist.
I have never forgotten standing beneath those vast and ancient
living things. Some that, as John Steinbeck observed, were growing
trees when a political execution took place on Golgotha. The
breathing silence of the pine-fragrant cathedral groves; a sense
of majesty, of awe, of physical and spiritual refreshment. Again
I felt gratitude to those who, like John Muir, at a time when
so many of the great edwoods were being felled, worked to conserve
some of these wonderful trees for posterity.
Many who have spoken in praise of nature and worked to educate
and con- serve were perceived odd birds ; Often isolated figures
that preferred hidden paths. Poets like John Clare; writer-
philosophers such as Henry David Thoreau, who once said that
if a man did not keep step with his fellows; perhaps he was
marching to the beat of a different drummer. Sometimes those
who seem out of step may hold ideas important to the future
of humanity and the world we inhabit.
There are honorable roll calls in many countries, Australia
included. In my own lifetime, I recall the American scientist-
writer, Rachel Carson, disparaged and demeaned by some who found
the mes- sages in her books, such as Silent Spring, confronting;
Warnings, for example, of the effects of pesticide use on wildlife,
warnings too often unheeded that led to the loss of many species
in intensively farmed countries like America and Britain. .
.
I stand on top of Paterson Hill and gaze over the national park
at the blue hori- zon. It is, I think, simply one of the finest
views in the world . I pay homage to those individuals and groups
who have worked and continue to work to secure such precious
fragments of our natural heritage into the future. And, naturally,
the pheasant coucal concurs: Oop-oop- oop , it calls, oop-oop-oop.
|
