WITH DON KNOWLER

A strong-billed honeyeater sat on a twig above a stream, ruffling its feathers. The bird had just had a bath and looked bedraggled, its plumage spiky and stiff.

The honeyeater (pictured) had caught my attention dunking and splashing in the sheltered, rocky reaches of the stream just below Fern Tree. Flying from the shadows, he or she now sat in full sunlight.

As the strong-bill – a bird only found in Tasmania – twirled and fluffed up feathers, droplets of water sparkled like gems in the light.

Drinking and bathing, then drying wings in sunlight, is a dangerous time for smaller birds. Dunking is necessary to produce unmatted and clean, efficient feathers, and these must be dried quickly so heavy waterlogged plumage does not impede flight. Birds usually choose sheltered, hidden places so their splashing will not be seen by a passing brown goshawk or collared sparrowhawk.

The strong-bill, though, appeared to be throwing caution to the wind. Did it know I was there, to offer protection? In all probability it was just rejoicing in the first really hot days of the season.

Warming up tired feather, flesh and bone after the rigours of winter on the slopes of kunanyi/Mt Wellington, the strong-bill was symbolic of spring and the optimism that hung in the air for the coming summer.

It was an optimism scented by the blooms of flowering plants. Above the honeyeater’s bathing pool, the dogwoods providing shelter were adorned with clusters of tiny beige flowers contrasting with the plant’s thick, dark-green veined leaves, and stinkwood threw up spikes of delicate white flowers from long and lanky three-pronged leaves.

Amid the fecundity and floral profusion, my gaze remained fixed on the beautiful strong-bill in spring mating plumage, the sun giving a sheen to the black stripes of its black-and-white capped head, the mossy-green plumage on its wings matching the richness of the dogwood leaf.