Flight Calls

‘Flight Calls’ is a poem about listening to birds and listening to Country. When I first started birdwatching, I learned that sound was just as important as sight for identifying birds. I started listening deeply and my world changed. Sound is a sensory layer often ignored or tuned out. Now, everywhere I go, I hear different species – by learning different calls and songs, I feel that I am better able to listen to Awabakal Country. I also learned to pay attention to seasonal changes – many birds are migratory, so at different times of year you’ll hear different things. The appearance or disappearance of a bird signals seasons changing. Some birds migrate long distances, from Australia to Siberia and back, but many migrate within Australia. I learned about the yellow-faced honeyeater migration from a member of the Hunter Bird Observers Club. There is a place near Burraghihnbihng Hexham Swamp where you can see thousands flying through at migration time. I went there with a group of bird banders to watch them catch migratory honeyeaters and other small birds in mist nets. I saw a tiny, palm-sized silvereye in a scientist’s hand, and she told me this was a subspecies from Tasmania. It had flown over 1,000 kilometres and it wasn’t stopping yet! As soon as it was banded and released it flew on, continuing northwards.

I wanted to capture the experience of birding by ear in this special place, and the feeling of restless excitement that you can sense from the birds as they flock together, calling to each other. Although their call is just one of many in a healthy forest, their distinctive chip chip-chip is very recognisable – you hear them coming before they arrive over the treetops. I used my own observations, as well as information in The Australian Bird Guide and the Handbook of Australian, New Zealand and Antarctic Birds. I also looked up Awabakal names for birds in the Awabakal Dictionary – Community Edition and read about seasonal changes in the Awabakal Seasons Calendar. In the poem, I included details of other species and habitats and contrasted this with the built environment. I wanted to compare the way humans travel, via highways, to the way birds and animals travel, through green corridors, so I made up a word: ‘treeways.’

Sometimes it’s easier to understand animal lives if we imagine them through a human lens, but we also need to remember that before roads and housing developments and industrial estates, birds and animals didn’t need corridors to travel through – their movement was unrestricted. In the time that I’ve been birdwatching – just three years – I have seen large amounts of habitat in Mulubinba Newcastle and the Hunter Valley being cleared. It concerns me that so little is left for birds and wildlife. Another member from my bird club told us that because birdwatchers are the ones who pay attention to birds, we understand what they need to live, and therefore we are the ones who need to speak up and advocate for conservation. Migratory birds face greater pressure than resident birds: they need connected habitats to move through. When habitat is cleared bit by bit, it may not seem like much, but it matters. That’s why we need to protect what we have.

Witnessing the yellow-faced honeyeater migration makes me feel that I am part of a larger ecosystem, and it gives me hope. I love the sounds of Country that I hear when I go birdwatching. I hope that together we can protect all the special places in the many different Nations that these birds pass through on their annual migration.