One Lonely Little Bird
Recently, I had the absolute privilege of seeing my first Regent Honeyeater in the wild. This little bird is incredibly significant. He is one of fewer than 200 to 300 Regent Honeyeaters left in the wild, and he was found thousands of kilometres from the last stronghold of the species in the Lower Hunter Valley. But he was also particularly special to me on a very personal level.
A reflection on meeting my first regent honeyeater in the wild
Recently, I had the absolute privilege of seeing my first Regent Honeyeater in the wild. This little bird was incredibly significant. He is one of fewer than 200 to 300 Regent Honeyeaters left in the wild, and he was found thousands of kilometres from the last stronghold of the species in the Lower Hunter Valley. But he was also particularly special to me on a very personal level.
I set the alarm for 4:45 in the morning, was out the door by 5:30am, and headed off in the dark towards Murphy’s Creek, just outside of Toowoomba. There, I was meeting Mick Atenzi from Toowoomba Bird Observers Club, so we could head to the site where the Regent Honeyeater had been seen over the last two weeks. I am incredibly thankful to Mick for sharing his local knowledge with me. Without him, I may not have sighted the Regent Honeyeater, far up in the canopy among other honeyeaters.
As we walked down the path, Mick explained that the Regent Honeyeater had been occupying the same yellow box tree for the last few weeks, specifically in the northwest corner of the tree, defending his blossom-filled territory. Despite some saying that there was more than one Regent Honeyeater, it’s believed that there was only a single bird there, although there were other species of honeyeaters around. One little lonely Regent Honeyeater.
We arrived at the yellow box. I was hopping with anticipation. I had seen a number of Regent Honeyeaters in captivity but never in the wild (and not for lack of trying). Whoop! Whoop! I saw him! Our little Regent Honeyeater, defending his quarter of a fully-blossomed yellow box tree.
I say “he” because our little bird was singing his heart out. And I realised that seeing this beautiful bird, this rare and precious gem, was bittersweet. Let me explain.
I am the author of a children’s book about a lonely Regent Honeyeater. Regent Honeyeaters were once a common sight in woodlands, especially west of the Great Dividing Range. Nowadays, they are primarily associated with box-ironbark woodlands. These birds are nomadic, always in search of the best gum blossoms. They once flew in flocks, with their range extending as far south as Adelaide and as far north as Gladstone.
As woodlands have been cleared, this once common bird has disappeared and is now critically endangered. Next time you are travelling, have a look out of your car window. Of course, fertile plains have now been cleared and replaced by farmland. But it was the very trees that grew on these fertile plains that produced the most reliable nectar supply. Older trees also provide a more predictable nectar source, and the amount of nectar they produce within a small space cannot be replaced by smaller and younger trees. As woodlands have disappeared, so have the Regent Honeyeaters.
But let’s go back to our lonely little Regent Honeyeater. Because there are so few of his kind left, I wonder if he will ever find others of his kind or a nest mate. Due to the vast distances that Regent Honeyeaters travel, it’s possible for a young male bird to leave the nest area to make his own way in the world and then never actually find another Regent Honeyeater. Oh, my heart! These lonely little birds will not only always be lonely, but they will never have families or children, further decreasing the viability of the remaining population.
We explain this very phenomenon at the back of our book, and the narrative, in fact, starts with a lonesome Regent Honeyeater.
But there is more to the story, and it’s the story of the little bird I met yesterday. Although, of course, the story was written years before I had the privilege of meeting this precious bird. Regent Honeyeaters have a unique song. Only male birds sing the full song, and it was the fact that I observed this little bird singing so often that I believe it’s a boy.
Unlike some species where the father will teach the children a species-specific call or song, Regent Honeyeaters do not learn their songs from their father. This is because father birds rarely sing while raising young, and young birds have left their nesting area by the time they are ready to learn. So young birds,need to find another teacher.
Mick explained to me that a recording of our bird’s song was sent to BirdLife Australia. And our little Regent Honeyeater is NOT singing the full rich song of his species! This means he never found the right teacher. Oh, my heart!
If a Regent Honeyeater fails to effectively learn his species-specific song, he will struggle to find a mate, defend territory, and find others of his kind to travel with. In our story, our Regent Honeyeater, called Sunny, finds a teacher, his flock, and a lady love. I hope the beautiful bird I met recently also has his happy ending. But there may be hundreds or even thousands of kilometres between him and others of his kind, and if he doesn’t learn his song by the time he is a year old, he may never be able to learn it….
There is something so incredibly heartbreaking about the thought of a songbird losing its song. Even among birds that have learnt the species-specific Regent Honeyeater song, the song that they are now singing is shorter and simpler than the song sung by their ancestors.
As someone who loves the Australian bush, I feel like we have lost so much, and I grieve the thriving eucalyptus woodlands that once covered so much of our vast country. I wonder if our children will ever grow up knowing what a healthy bushland looks like, the plethora of uniquely Australian wildflowers that are now drowned out by weeds. I think of all the amazing people I met while seeking out our little bird, all driven by the excitement of seeing this rare, beautiful and unique creature. And I’m reminded that our children may never see a Regent Honeyeater in the wild, like I did.
Cate Storey is an Australian Children’s Author and founder of Wet Season Books.
Images in this blog are copyright Sarah Matsuda, Illustrations from Sunny Finds His Song, written by Cate Storey and Penny Watson and illustrated by Sarah Matsuda and published by Wet Season Books