WITH DON KNOWLER
It took a royal visitor to point out what we in Hobart take for granted – the majestic realm that is the Royal Tasmanian Botanic Gardens.
Prince Edward was on a walk in the gardens as part of its 200th anniversary when he stopped to ask a group of locals if they visited often. He was surprised to hear that for one couple it was their first visit. “But the gardens are so special,” he enthused. “You must come more often.”
He had a point. As a local myself, I have to confess I’m not a frequent visitor, preferring untamed Australian bush for my birdwatching excursions.
One time I do visit, however, is during the autumn. If the native bush has one drawback for someone born in Britain, it is that native flora does not give shape to the seasons as do the deciduous trees of the northern hemisphere.
During March, April and May in the gardens I revel in the glory of the autumn foliage – the colours of gold, scarlet, bronze and copper as the leaves turn.
Many people are critical of such trees in the Australian landscape, and I am sympathetic to the views of “tree police”. All the same, native birds are attracted to the seeds and fruits of these exotic species.
The music from a string quartet assembled for the Prince’s unveiling of a plaque commemorating the gardens’ anniversary was accompanied by the “cossick, cossick, cossick” call of green rosellas flying between European silver birches in search of seeds.
The green rosella is one of 12 birds found only in Tasmania, and another “local” to make an appearance was the yellow wattlebird. These magnificent birds – about the size of a magpie and the largest of the honeyeater family – have long wattles hanging from their faces, reminding me of haughty Victorian dowagers, with pendulous earrings, from the age the gardens were born.
The botanical gardens started out as a convict vegetable patch and have since grown to achieve international acclaim for their collection of rare and endangered Tasmanian plants, as evidenced by the visit of the Queen’s youngest son. The plants include those from Macquarie Island, housed in Australia’s only subantarctic plant house.
These collections are trying to right the wrongs of the past, when endemic flora and fauna suffered under the weight of Eurocentric colonial possession authorised by the Prince’s ancestors. Much of the native kangaroo grass is gone, the Tasmanian emu can no longer be found feeding on its seeds, and two of our parrots – the orange-bellied and swift – are critically endangered. Also, the Tasmanian tiger breathed its last breath in the former Beaumaris Zoo, not 200m from the gardens themselves.