Friends of the Box-Ironbark Forests

The state government is running a consultation on its ‘Review of the kangaroo harvesting plan.’ You can participate by going here.

The plan, and the program it describes, is justified by the following:

‘Areas with large kangaroo populations can experience issues such as:

• traffic accidents
• damage to pasture, crops, gardens and fences caused by kangaroos
• negative impact on vulnerable native vegetation or areas undergoing revegetation due to kangaroo grazing
• competition for grazing with livestock on farming properties
• kangaroos becoming aggressive towards people, usually when individual animals have regular contact with humans (e.g. become used to being fed by humans).’

According to the consultation documents, aerial surveys show between 2 million and three million kangaroos in the state.

These aerial surveys don’t include numbers for heavily forested areas, for obvious reasons. The numbers, density and abundance [of Eastern Greys] are significantly higher in the Central Region [of which we’re a part] than in other regions.

As witness recent correspondence in our local press, kangaroo shooting is controversial. A very quick look at the dot points above will reveal that a large part of the kangaroo problem relates to human behaviour: traffic accidents could be reduced if people drove more slowly; the practice of feeding kangaroos in the wild is silly, and should be massively discouraged; competition with livestock could be reduced if water points were less available to kangaroos; and better planning of urban expansion would reduce the impact on kangaroo habitat.

In the Castlemaine Botanical Gardens reserve: a clear appreciation of the facts about kangaroo populations is fundamental to any decision about management.

All of the above would require serious adjustments in our culture. And, as we know, our culture is not great at making adjustments to accommodate nature. The very idea of reducing speed limits, for example, sends Vicroads into nervous fits.

But there remains the third dot point: the effect of high kangaroo numbers on other animals.

What is the effect of kangaroo population density on grasslands, and therefore on the other creatures that live in them? Research in the ACT in 2014 argued that ‘There was a strong negative relationship between kangaroo density and grass structure after controlling for tree canopy cover… Changes in grazing intensity (i.e. grass structure) significantly affected reptile abundance, reptile species richness, reptile species diversity, and the occurrence of several ground-dwelling reptiles.’

The 2016 state government discussion paper Protecting Victoria’s Environment—Biodiversity 2036 provocatively claimed that ‘High numbers of kangaroos can exert high grazing pressure on native plants and wildflowers, a bit like rabbits, and can destroy habitat that ground-dwelling native animals may need to survive.’ It also pointed out that kangaroos had increased in numbers owing to ‘the increase in reliable water supplies (e.g. stock watering) and pasture for grazing’. That is, that human activity has altered the environment with the effect of making it capable of carrying larger numbers of kangaroos than would naturally occur. These larger numbers are not confined to agricultural areas, but spread to bushland where their grazing does significant damage to understorey, with consequent effects on biodiversity.

Changes to our culture, or intervention to control numbers—or both? Both present challenges.

For culling, the two obvious problems are rogue shooters, and cruelty.

Though cautiously endorsing kangaroo culling in some instances, the RSPCA has pointed out very serious failings in the current system, and has urged ‘that any measures taken to reduce kangaroo populations should first be proven to be necessary (through a proper consideration of the reasons for control). They must be conducted humanely and be under the direct supervision of the appropriate government authorities (as part of an approved kangaroo management program). Effective monitoring and auditing of such programs is vital to ensure that these conditions are met.’

‘Effective monitoring and auditing’ seems like a good policy at all levels of this debate. The key is in the word ‘effective.’

It’s significant that the reporting of the ACT research project on the Conversation website brought some objections criticising the validity of the research procedures, and therein lies another challenge: getting wide community consensus on what the facts are, based on the best science.

Interestingly, the 2016 Biodiversity paper also referred to increased human population as a problem for the environment, but did not pursue the theme…another contentious question on which considered, clear reflection and maybe some ‘auditing and monitoring’ might be revealing.

But one thing at a time. The consultation is open till July 11. Have a go.

Nearly 4,000 cars take the Midland Highway through Campbells Creek every day. It’s a fair bet few of the drivers notice the row of trees along the east side of the highway opposite Moscript street. Well, it’s not a good idea for drivers to be gazing anywhere except at the road, of course. But if you happen to be in that area, pause and take a look: you’ll see a row of possibly the biggest Silver Banksias in the district.

Main Road/Midland Highway, Campbells Creek: that row of trees you may not have noticed is a sign of something pretty significant…

Planted by Friends of Campbells Creek over 20 years ago, some of them have reached an impressive size…and they’ve been flowering for weeks now. You can’t appreciate that part unless you actually stop and have a good look.

…especially if you get up close and have a good look.

It’s worth it: and it’s a small sign of a process of healing the damage done to the region when this species was practically eradicated here over a century ago. Banksias used to be widespread in this region. Seeing healthy specimens along Campbells and Forest creeks is a hopeful sign of better times to come?

A smallish group tackled FOBIF’s June walk yesterday, on a circuitous route around The Monk, taking in many of the more notable mining sites of the area. The weather was fine and cool with extensive patches of sunshine: perfect for walking. The bush is looking pretty healthy with rampant regrowth of Golden Wattle, among other species. It will be spectacular in the season–and Golden Wattles are already starting to flower.

In the Eureka Mine zone: one day this could be world heritage!

The route chosen crossed the Eureka Mine site, but ventured into some obscure but fascinating corners: in fact, it could be argued that the interest of the mining history of this region is in its abandonment, the fact that much of what remains is not signposted, and has to be found by adventurous explorers, not tourists with a map.

‘Now, what’s this about quartz?’ Part of the FOBIF group wondering about the gold question.

Our thanks to Lionel Jenkins and Barb Guerin, for devising a route which took in some really isolated, thought provoking sites.

Next month FOBIF is offering two walks: a long and a short! Check the program for details.

Winter’s coming, the days are shorter: maybe it’s easier to concentrate than when you’re lounging around in the sun. Here are FOBIF’s recommendations for some cold weather reading. We didn’t organise it this way, but we’re not surprised to find that the common theme in these items is: we need to know more.

A new book, Biodiversity Impacts and Lessons from 2019-2020, edited by: Libby Rumpff, Sarah Legge, Stephen van Leeuwen, Brendan Wintle, John Woinarski brings together ‘contributions from more than 200 scientists and experts. It provides the most comprehensive assessment yet of how the fires affected biodiversity and Indigenous cultural values, and how nature has recovered.’

You can find an account of the book on the Conversation website, but here’s a list of (unsurprising) conclusions:

1. Natural systems are already stressed

2. We don’t know what, or where, all species are

3. Emergency responders don’t have enough information

4. Biodiversity usually comes last

5. Conservation funding is grossly insufficient

6. First Nations knowledge has been sidelined

These conclusions have something pretty sobering in common: we don’t know enough about natural systems, and don’t make use of what knowledge we have. Should we be surprised by these conclusions? In any case, below are a couple of books that might be a start in improving our knowledge.

 Alison Pouliot’s new book, Underground lovers—encounters with fungi  has been described as ‘taking fungal storytelling to a whole new level’, and that’s pretty right: but the ‘stories’ are not just there to entertain. They are entertaining, of course, but the book is serious: a powerful argument for a better understanding of fungi and the part they play in keeping us all alive.

That last phrase may seem strange, given that humanity’s default position on fungi is as a menace to be eliminated—look at the number of products available encouraging us to wage war on them. Alison Pouliot is savage on this, as she is on the tendency of humanity to see nature as an enemy. Take this: ‘…the Queensland (poisons information) centre’s 2019 report records insecticides as causing almost three times as many calls as the insects themselves. In Victoria in 2018, there were 226 calls for suspected mushroom poisoning, fewer than those for soap, glow necklaces or nappy rash products.’

Fruiting body of Lepiota haemorrhagica amongst Breutelia moss, Welsh Village. Pouliot suggests that the lack of common names for fungi is a sign of lack of appreciation…

One approach to this book is to see it as a reflection on language. Alison asks Yorta Yorta elder Aunty Greta Morgan if there is a Yorta Yorta name for the white dyeball. ‘We don’t have a name because our ancestors were forbidden from speaking language…and passing on knowledge about land…’ Loss of words is loss of knowledge, and one of the interesting themes here is on the nature of Indigenous knowledge systems, the ways they differ from and overlap with Western science. She discusses the efforts of mycologist Peter Buchanan to collate and systematise Maori knowledge of fungi, and fill gaps left in lost traditions. ‘Language is one key to unlocking historical knowledge of fungi. Peter and his team, and Sonia and the Yorta Yorta elders, are gradually reviving it, one fungus at a time.’

Indigenous people are not alone in having to deal with language gaps, says Alison: ‘The lack of vernacular terms for fungi in the English language means these organisms lack not only our awareness but our regard.’ It’s hard to argue with this. Lack of knowledge is a major theme here, and it’s closely linked to lack of appreciation.

There’s plenty more in this book, to go on with: you’ll find a few extra reasons to be annoyed by leaf blowers, or disturbed by clearfelling of forests, or worried by those beautiful Fly Agarics, ‘the world’s most photographed fungus’. There are intriguing reflections on the importance of protection of remnant vegetation, and inspiring stories of people who are delving into the mysteries of fungi—of which there are many.

And there’s the story of the three goths in a coffin, in a hearse, drinking champagne. You’ll have to get the book to check that one out.

One way of plugging the knowledge gap is by…listening more carefully.  Andrew Skeoch’s book Deep Listening to Nature offers some keys on how to go about it.

The striking achievement of this book is that it seduces readers into actively focusing on sound: partly through an engaging writing style, and partly via the fact that it’s accompanied by an easily accessible set of soundscapes. The trick is, you access the Listening Earth website via a simple click with your device; references to birdsong are ‘illustrated’ by a recording of the sound itself. This is not just a perfect book for bird enthusiasts, but a wonderful aid for anyone who wants to hear and understand what’s happening in the natural world. What does a robin’s song mean? What’s the point of that monotonous pigeon ‘ooom’? Is birdsong really music? Is the Butcher Bird a better singer than the Nightingale? Oh, and what about this: ‘Why biodiversity?’

‘Cockatoos are intelligent creatures…’ ‘Their call is a big sound that tears at the air…Toneless and chaotic, they are nevertheless expressive…’

Very big questions are posed here, and some provocative answers provided. The theme throughout, however is that ‘deep listening’ is a form of concentrated attentiveness and openness to nature: ‘If nature can be thought of as a game of sustaining life, then by listening, we can hear its rules of play.’

What’s really great about this book is that although some pretty challenging ideas are put forward, the language is clear, and the tone is accommodating. Andrew is not scared to throw in the occasional unexpected ‘cultural’ reference—for example, to Doctor Who’s brilliant summing up of Time as ‘wibbly wobbly, timey wimey…stuff’;  or to Saint Francis’s legendary duet with a nightingale. (The saint conceded that the bird was the better singer).

An additional benefit for our readers is that Andrew lives in this region: so that while the book ranges all over the globe, there are plenty of local references which readers can quickly set against their own experiences.

The sound track to the book is available separately at https://listeningearth.com/andrewskeoch/soundtrack.html

Check it out…and get the book.

A small group of heroes tackled FOBIF’s May walk yesterday: a zigzag route through the Mount Lofty Natural Features reserve. Bitter weather at 9.30 improved nicely into a mild though brisk autumn day by 10…Well, maybe more brisk than mild, but not much more: great walking weather, in fact, with good patches of sunshine.

So…where is the summit? Some of the FOBIF group on the Mount Lofty ridge. Photo: Liz Martin

This reserve is a great eucalypt arboretum, with very large old specimens of Yellow Box, Long-leaved Box, White Box, Mealy Bundy and Red Box trees. In spite of its small size, it contains some lovely hidden valleys, and is surprisingly various.

Disappointingly, the group was unable to scale Mount Lofty peak, which is so discreet as to be unattainable. However, we did skip over the summit ridge, and it’s possible we went over the peak without noticing.

The Mount Lofty reserve has an extraordinary collection of large old eucalypts scattered amongst regrowth smaller trees… Photo: Liz Martin

Our thanks to walk leader Bernard Slattery for taking us through a route so complex he seemed occasionally confused about it himself.

…The reserve also has a number of fallen giants. Compare the size of the log with the surrounding regrowth. The comparison suggests how long the country needs to be protected before it can heal to its past grandeur.

Next month’s walk is around The Monk. Check the program for details.