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FIRST ENCOUNTERS BY PAULA PEETERS

Plains-wanderer 

Five years ago, I wasasked to create a colouring book about the Plains-wanderer and itsriverina grasslandhabitat.Sointhe high summer of2015,off I went toNSW’sHay Plainin search of this strange bird.

To me, it’s a harsh, dry, sun-blastedlandscape.Most of the plants are dead and crispy. 

Howcouldthis little bird survive in such a place?  

HowcouldI create an interesting colouring book from this bleak expanse of nothingness? 

But then, I looked closer. Each plant is gamely survivingin the 40-plus degree heat of summer. Each plant is spiky and plucky and tough and ruggedly tenacious, in its own way. 

As I walked,I imagined—from the dried husks of plants—this same place in full-flower, last spring. Here’s a field of pinkPtilotusLamb’sTails, interspersed with goldenChrysocephalumPaperDaisies. Then, in this patch, the goldenPaperDaisies dominate, andare mingled with white-petalledRhodanthe daisies,thewhite flowers of theGreyGermander, and all around the soft blues of the various saltbushes andcopperburrs. Grasses would have been growing up and all around: light green with fresh growth, seed heads poking up and waving over.Tiny crinkled rosettes of the saltbush seeds are still plastered on someMaireana stems, like miniscule satellite dishes, miniature hollyhock towers. Absent now (hidden as seeds and bulbs in the soil,but no doubt beautiful last spring)are the nodding heads of pink and purple pea-flowers; the slight, erect garlands ofVanilla Lilies and EarlyNancies; and the white-pink open faces ofConvulvulus, the bindweed, on scrambling stems. 

But I still hadn’t seen thePlains-wanderer, the lead role, the star of the show.  

The sunhadset,andit wasstill 38 degrees. The rising moonhunglike anorange medallion over the wide brown plain.  

And thenMatt Cameron and David Parkercameto my rescue withaspotlight and 4WD. Oncethelightleft the sky wedroveslowly over the grasslands, spotlight combing the ground. 

Finally, there itwas,among the straggly plants, in the searing heat. Head held high, peering at us gamely with its imperious yellow eyes. Scalloped back, curious upright stance. It tried to walkaway from us, tripping over sticks and grasses. It preferred to runratherthan fly.  

I peered intently though my binoculars, trying to drink it in, to remember.Itwasthe firstandmight be thelast time I eversawaPlains-wanderer in the wild.  

This wide brown expanseis its home. Somehow, (with the help of people like Matt and David), it persists. 

ByPaula Peeters. Discover more of her writing and artwork atwww.paperbarkwriter.com