Heartbreaking

Almost ten years in Tasmania and it doesn't get any easier to see the large number of dead native animals on our roads. But this morning's roadkill sighting as I jogged back down New Road in Franklin was particularly devastating. A dead pademelon, and less than a metre away, her dead joey. I shed a little tear as I moved them off the road.

In the nine years we lived at the very top of that road, I was lucky not to have hit any animals, but we saw hundreds dead on the road in that time. Mostly pademelons, wallabies and possums, a couple of our beloved wombats and some bandicoots. Many of them are killed thanks to people driving too fast for the conditions, especially at dusk. But sometimes they just hop out of the bush and straight under your car, and you've no hope of seeing them in time. Poor little guys.

Urban echidna

We came back from our drizzly dog walk this morning to find an echidna in our driveway! They were a regular sight at this time of year when we lived up in the hills, but not what we expected to see down here on the main road. We were worried that he (she?) might wander out across the highway so we set up a barricade across the side gate. David tried to pick him up to relocate the prickly fella to a better location, but he dug in firmly and stuck like a limpet - see picture below.

Later on, David spotted that he had moved to some gravel on the other side of our yard, where he was able to pick him up (with thick gloves) and deposit him in a recycling tub. We let him go in the paddock behind the neighbour's place where he's less likely to venture out on the busy road. Such amazing little creatures.

Morning walks, then and now

Twenty minutes walk from our old home up in the hills of Franklin, you could catch a glimpse of the Hartz Mountains. At sunrise, with a fog in the valley between us, it seemed extra special. The forestry roads were rocky and sometimes a little icy or muddy or dusty, depending on the season. Quiet, but for the amazing lyrebirds and the thud of pademelons hopping away in the undergrowth.

Now, we live on the main road in Franklin. I can either hike directly up the steep Old Road hill for a good heart starter and return in an easy jog down New Road, or pick a direction and head along the river. There are streetlights, cars and trucks. Whatever the weather, the view across the river is pretty.

#&*%^*! possums

Over the past couple of weeks, some industrious possums (I am assuming it's more than one) have eaten their way through our little orchard. All the leaves off the trees and all the fruit gone. Including two trees full of almost-ripe plums and two heavy with unripe pears. But then I spotted this in the middle of our yard and felt truly devastated.

My one-and-only apricot tree, which bore only one apricot this year. Luckily I ate it before the possum got there. However, Mr. Possum has eaten almost all of its leaves and broken almost all of the

small branches, leaving what was a nicely shaped small tree completely lopsided and bare. I felt so sad when I saw it I was ready throw in the towel and give up gardening for good. Chatting to a neighbour today, we were wondering if the possums have been pushed out of the forest behind us by the bushfires. Certainly we have noticed a lot more pademelons and some large Bennetts wallabies since we returned home.

In happier garden news, we've had a few kilos of blueberries from our two small bushes. And there is silverbeet. Beetroot. And carrots. These are all growing inside a fully enclosed chicken wire veggie patch so safe from naughty possums, even if the odd bunny or bandicoot breaks in.

The year of the echidna

Last week a neighbour gave me a lift down the road to the monthly movie night at the Palais (we saw The Merger, a terrific Aussie film, you must see it). He remarked that he's seen many more echidnas this year than in past years. You almost can't drive up or down our road without seeing one of them trundling along or digging into the clay bank on the side of the road. David and I had said the same thing only the day before. We've seen lots of them at our place too, making their way across our front paddock or across the road. One evening we saw our dog Gretchen sitting and staring at something in the corner of the yard. It turned out to be an echidna happily digging its way into an ants nest. This week, I managed to snap a few close ups of another one in almost the same place, pulling up tufts of grass and digging a hole. Echidnas in Tasmania have more fur and fewer spikes than their mainland Australian cousins. Aren't they just gorgeous?

Three Capes Track - day 1

Port Arthur to Surveyors
Boat cruise + 4km, 1.5-2 hour walk

If I describe what I saw on the Three Capes Track walk last week, I will quickly run out of superlatives. Spectacular, amazing, awesome, beautiful, exhilarating... you get the idea. Instead, I'll use few words to go with just some of the many photos I took - all iPhone snaps - and you'll have to go see for yourself if you haven't been already.

After a short bus ride from the Port Arthur Historic Site, the adventure begins with a Pennicott Wilderness Journeys cruise with views back to the famous penitentiary. I loved the colour of these cliffs on Point Puer. Can you spot the seal flipper sticking out of the water?

Our skipper pointed out a white-bellied sea eagle's nest in a large tree. Birds not present at the time, but we did see a juvenile eagle fly over a short while later.

It got pretty windy out past the heads, but the sea swell was mild compared to other days, and we enjoyed the views north, as the skipper pointed out where we would be walking the next few days.

The boat dropped us off on the sands of Denmans Cove. The trick is to wait until the wave recedes before disembarking.

Packs on, we headed across the beach, past the lagoon to the start of the Three Capes Track.

All the way along the headland, there are views back to the Port Arthur Historic Site, here just a sandstone speck in the distance.

Natural beauty - and a little man made too.

From there, it was an uphill climb to the ridge above and the weight of the pack started to make itself known, especially in my right shoulder. I stopped for a handful of trail mix and readjusted the straps, and felt renewed after that. In the heath on the ridge, I stumbled across a pretty Bennetts Wallaby, and she hung around long enough for me to take a few pictures.

I was keeping an eye out for a nice spot to stop for lunch, when I rounded a corner and Surveyors Hut, our accommodation for the night, came into view. I figured that the lovely deck with views out to Cape Raoul was a good a spot as any.

Our day ended with a briefing from super-informative Parks & Wildlife Service ranger Ken, and our first evening meal together. My vacuum-sealed steak was still mostly frozen! It went down a treat with some zucchini on the BBQ and a bread roll from my stash.

I had a four person room all to myself - a benefit of going in the "off season". Actually, I think it was the perfect time to go.

Bruny Island from the water

It's been on the list of "things to do when friends or family visit" for years, but this year David gave me a Bruny Island Cruise for my birthday. Awesome gift! One of the multi award-winning Pennicott Wilderness Journeys, this one takes you around the towering dolerite cliffs of southern Bruny Island.

We were collected by bus at Kettering just near the ferry terminal, and taken across on the Mirambeena to Bruny Island. Our guide (we were soon to discover they are all masters of the truly dreadful 'dad joke') told stories of the island and its characters past and present on the 45 minute drive south. On the way to Adventure Bay we stopped at The Neck to climb the stairs to the lookout and that fantastic view of the isthmus and South Bruny.

Once we'd checked in at Bruny Island Cruises HQ in Adventure Bay, there was time for a muffin and a coffee before walking to the wharf to board one of the famous yellow boats. There were people from all around the world in our group - Minnesota, Belgium, China, Malaysia - and we all donned huge red capes the covered me from head to toe to keep out water and wind.

We cruised past beautiful headlands, rugged cliffs and caves, including the magical Breathing Rock that appears to suck air and water in before blowing it out in spectacular fashion. Some cray fishermen checking their cray pots kindly entertained the boatload of tourists by holding up a fresh cray along with a young Port Jackson shark that was released back into the water.

Next came a thrilling spin around The Monument, a 30-odd metre high dolerite stack, before heading to the southern tip on the island where the Tasman Sea meets the Southern Ocean. The swell made for some interesting rises and falls on the boat and the odd exciting drenching by sea spray and rain!

We saw male Australian fur seals basking on The Friars, a group of islands at the southern tip of Bruny Island, then a group of New Zealand fur seals, before the high-speed, wet and windy ride back to Adventure Bay for our pre-ordered lunch and a hot chocolate. On the way back to the ferry, our guide stopped the bus at Get Shucked oysters where I picked up a dozen for Christmas Day, then at the Black Devil Cherries shed near the ferry terminal where I bought a kilo of these huge, juicy beauties. Such a brilliant day out, highly recommend it.

Roosters for raptors

Usually, if I have an unwanted rooster or two, I 'dispatch' them (as poultry folk say) myself. They end up in the freezer and get eaten at some point, by us or the dogs, depending on whether I can face rooster stew or curry after skinning and gutting them. But today I had four poor young cockerels who needed to go. They had started crowing and throwing their weight around and our existing rooster didn't like it much. Things were starting to get a little violent in the chook house.

Last year on a visit to the Raptor Refuge of Tasmania, we learned that they accept donations of unwanted live roosters, who are humanely euthanised and fed to birds in their care. I think it's a great idea. Anything to stop irresponsible chook owners from dumping them and help rehabilitation of these beautiful birds sounds good to me. Well, not good for the roosters clearly, but better than some other fates. You need to contact the refuge first to arrange a convenient time for drop off (in the box shown here) as they have limited resources, with staff and volunteers kept very busy caring for the animals.

Rapt with raptors

This is Montgomery. He's a Tasmanian Masked Owl, and as I learned on our visit to the Raptor and Wildlife Refuge of Tasmania in Kettering last week, that's one of only two types of owl in Tasmania. Isn't he beautiful?

This amazing facility was set up by veterinary nurse and licensed wildlife carer Craig Webb with purpose built aviaries and volunteers who are working to rescue and rehabilitate Tasmanian raptors, like eagles, hawks, owls and falcons. When the birds can't be released due to their nature of their injuries, they get to live in the education area of the property and help people understand them better. Some have been hit by cars, some have collided with powerlines, others have been shot by morons. On our tour last week we saw swamp harriers, wedge-tailed eagles, brown goshawks (such a stunning bird, much more than the name suggests), southern boobook owls and brown falcons.

Cameras in the aviaries monitor the birds and allow the team to see injuries that the birds may hide when they see you coming. Through this camera footage, we saw a female sitting on two eggs and the male bringing her food. Awesome to see. I've had several chickens taken by grey goshawks over the years and I'm always torn about it. Sad for the loss of my hen, but happy that our beautiful wildlife is fed. We learned at the refuge that, for example, the lifespan of wedge-tailed eagles is not as long as it used to be due to challenges finding food - and, I guess, clearing of habitat.

You can book a private tour as we did via their web site. By appointment only. Go on - the money goes towards saving some of these wonderful birds. And while you are there, buy one of their beautiful calendars.

Platypus Bay circuit walk

From the Lake St Clair Visitors Centre, there is a good selection of short walks you can do. There are facilities for picnics, coffee, lunch and overnight accommodation. It's also the start/end of longer walks including the Overland Track. That's why we were surprised to see so few cars in the car park when we visited one Sunday earlier this month. It wasn't sunny, but it didn't rain all day and the cool temperatures (around 10-15 degrees) made perfect walking conditions. After our longer walk the day before and our drive to Nelson Falls in the morning, a Sunday afternoon stroll to Platypus Bay was just what I needed to justify that evening's dinner. We didn't see a platypus from the viewing area on the walk but we had seen one the night before swimming out on the lake at Pumphouse Point anyway. It's such a beautiful piece of the Tasmanian great outdoors. Don't let winter put you off.

Munching on

While I did the annual chook shed clean out on the weekend, pulling out the past year's worth of bedding and general detritus and replacing it with (expensive) fresh straw, this pademelon sat nearby gobbling up the chooks' lettuce. He was so close I could hear the munching.

Possums don't like pears

For the first time, our little orchard has borne fruit. We have two small, espaliered pear trees (one Williams pear, one Josephine), both laden with fruit. They are definitely  not the perfect supermarket variety, more the lumpy and bumpy organic variety, and I am so looking forward to trying them! I have picked a few but they are still very hard and need to ripen. No apples, but happily, our little trees were not attacked by possums this year. Two of my apple trees died last winter and I had to pull them out, the others are all stunted after two years of having all their leaves eaten by possums. The pears were spared. It seems possums don't like pear tree leaves.

Baby snake

Awwww, cute. All baby animals are cute. Yes, even this tiny whip snake (white-lipped snake) spotted heading away from our garage over the weekend. Pretty little thing.

Fairy wren snake alarm

Coming back from closing up the chook shed on Friday, I heard a little bird tweeting like crazy on the fence near the water tank. It was a fairy wren, with his bright blue feathers and pretty song. David had heard him too, and it turned out he had something to be chirping so furiously about. A dark shadow was hanging out near the water tank - snake alert! David fetched the hose and directed water at the snake until it slid out of the yard and off down the driveway.

I don't know if it was a tiger snake or a copperhead, and it wasn't a large snake, but I don't really care. I don't mind snakes but we don't want them close to the house or in our yard in case one of the dogs decides it looks interesting and gets bitten. We'll have to listen out for the fairy wren alarm in future. I was talking to a woman on the weekend whose family has lost a couple of dogs to snake bite, including a big St. Bernard... terribly sad. I've mentioned before that Tasmania only has three kinds of snakes, all of them venomous but very unlikely to kill you. It turns out that despite Australia's reputation for deadly critters, our snakes are a lot less dangerous than people think.

The battle for the fruit trees

This year's battle with the possums has begun. Two of my apple trees have not yet started growing again after the savage "pruning" they received last year from these cute but pesky critters, who ate every last leaf. Our silver birches were all broken off at the top and now sport a plastic band in the hope of making it harder to climb them. So far so good on that front... The plums, cherries and peach planted last year had only a few blossoms but lovely healthy leaf growth so far. If only the possums would eat something else. Apparently they don't like pear trees, the only ones spared in last year's feast. The pear blossoms are so pretty, and the bees love them - see if you can spot them in two of the pictures below. This year I planted two new trees, a medlar and a quince.

The interloper

I never envisaged spending late afternoons standing guard at the chook shed door, chasing away pademelons so the birds can go inside to roost. There is one particular offender:

As darkness falls he hops out of the bush and makes a beeline for the shed, where he knows he will find leftover grain and other tasty treats. If I get there any later, he has invited some friends. He is very persistent. If I shoo him out, he simply hops around in a circle and attempts to re-enter the shed. But they are so cute, it's hard to be annoyed.

One of these things is not like the other ones:

As one of my friends commented, this ain't New York! Here at the other end of the earth, I feel so privileged to share our home with so many wonderful, entertaining creatures.