Mountain Tails (16 page)

I am fortunate to be able to live amongst so many wild creatures, who belong here more than I do or ever could. Yet there are lots of tails I'd love to see but never will, because they're extinct, or so few are left that they're on the critically endangered list, or the steps on the way to that, the vulnerable or threatened species list.

The more I learn about the amazing animals around me, the more I grieve that so many equally unique and interesting Australian creatures are now gone. Their combined richness is what biodiversity means, and even though we may not understand how, all creatures, including us, have or had a place in an ecosystem; we are all linked. Like any chain, break or even weaken a link, and things eventually fall apart. Unfortunately those links are often invisible to us short-sighted slaves of Progress—until the effects of the breakdown, mostly irreversible, cause us trouble.

Australia holds the shameful record of having wiped out the most mammal species of any country in the world: 27 unique types of furry warm-blooded creatures, like us but oh so different, will never exist on this earth again, thanks to our clumsy Progress. And we've done it in only a little over 200 years. We've been rotten caretakers, compared to the original ones, who managed it so well for thousands of years.

We can add 23 bird species and four frog species to the tally of Australian creatures that are now gone forever. We can't do a thing
about this but we can help in trying to prevent it happening to the 22 animal species that are critically endangered right now, and the 345 species that are threatened!

My wildlife refuge is my own way of doing this, plus having my property conserved in perpetuity under the
Native Vegetation Act,
but there are various avenues and degrees of involvement for concerned people, landowners or not, including volunteering, observing and recording, donating and lobbying.

Even in towns, we can at least try to do no more harm, for example by keeping pets in at night when many native animals come out to feed. Think of small creatures like the Lesser Bilby, lost forever, every time it seems a chore to do so. It probably didn't ever live in your area, but others of the 54 extinct animals did. If you want a more personal iconic image, find out from your local National Parks office what is under threat in your region, what birds, mammals and reptiles might not be around much longer.

When I see the wild animals around me living such efficient and rich lives in the natural world we inhabit here, requiring of me only that I should leave them alone, I wonder that we got our priorities so wrong, on such a large scale, in this country.

Most of the developed countries have similarly diminished the biodiversity of their original and often unique plants and animals, and sadly many of the developing countries are racing to catch us up in thoughtless greed.

Think of the tragedy of the once-mighty Amazon rainforests and all the creatures they supported. Or closer to home, the Great Barrier Reef, rescued from pollution, but now victim of global warming, doomed if governments don't take brave steps towards a new way of sustainable living.

Change is essential. Tourism related to our World Heritage reef employs far, far more than the carbon-guilty coal industry, but it's concentrated in fewer hands and buys less political influence. Forget
finding Nemo: after all, what's the point of cute fish or pretty coral if we can't keep our polluting and privately profitable coal industry?

That's apparently also worth more than our beaches and coastal cities, destined to be submerged as the polar ice melts and the seas rise. Who needs polar bears anyway?

It's way past time that, as a species, we human animals got it right in how we value and treat what's left of our natural world. And we don't have much time to stop the ticking carbon clock. Apart from the intrinsic, intricate and unique beauty and diversity of our Earth—its land and sea and air, and all the creatures that live within—we need it to survive, so we can.

And even if we don't have tails, I'm sure the other animals will tolerate us—so long as we stop wrecking this world we must all share. It's the only one we've got.

The Greater Bilby: going, going...?

In memory of the tails that are gone forever...

To be aware of, and, I suspect, horrified by, the wide range and number of our Threatened Fauna—critically endangered, endangered or vulnerable—who are at various stages along the way to joining those missing tails if we don't act, go to:

http://www.environment.gov.au/biodiversity/threatened/

Here's a few places to start finding out how you can help prevent more tails from going missing, whether you own land or not! Most initiatives aren't national; states have varying names and rules for similar progams.

Not all have websites, but where they do, to simplify the list, I have just given those, assuming that non-computer-using readers can look up the names in their phone books. Apologies to any major service I've omitted, but for the future, please let me know by posting a comment on my website:
www.sharynmunro.com

I haven't listed peripheral groups, such as the widespread local Landcare groups whose activities help with regenerating habitat, the loss of which has been a big factor in the demise of many species. My last book began: ‘Wherever you live, you need to feel safe and in tune with your surroundings.' This is so for all creatures, not just we humans.

STATE CONSERVATION COUNCILS
—umbrella bodies for many local and regional groups and programs, so great sources of linked contacts.

THE THREATENED SPECIES NETWORK
(Australian Government Natural Heritage Trust & World Wildlife Fund Australia):

Any zoological facts in this book are correct to the best of my knowledge, as told to me by people who ought to know, or as referenced from my own books, many of which are getting on, like me. Op shops and charity book sales don't usually offer the latest editions! However, I have checked online, and most facts remained current.

The traditional owners of these mountains, who respected all creatures and would never have let any tails go missing; ABC Radio National's
Bush Telegraph,
whose ‘Country Viewpoint' segment provided the initial outlet for some of these pieces; my friend and webmaster Fred Baker, whose encouragement to blogging led me to record my wild friends on camera and thus helped my memory, especially in illustrating these tales; my ‘official' photographer, friend Robert Bignell, whose Old Brush property is also a haven for wildlife and sympathetic half-wild humans; editor Anouska Jones, who treads as lightly on my manuscripts as she does on the earth; designer Nanette Backhouse, who gave the book its final breath of life, so that ‘the words were made flesh', with the perfect face to present to the world; and my publishers, Benny and Gareth St John Thomas of Exisle, who suggested this book, for their ongoing support.

Living alone on a remote mountain would not be every woman's choice. In fact, Sharyn Munro had so often been asked,
‘Why
do you live there?' that she decided to write a book as her answer.
The Woman on the Mountain
is the resulting lyrically written account of her journey towards a sustainable and truly rewarding lifestyle in her beloved mountain forests, with ‘only' the abundant wildlife for company.

That decades-long journey was no planned passage, but a stumble over setbacks, propelled by almost accidental decisions. After the ups and downs of relationships, single parenting, and an unlikely variety of jobs, at 56 she found herself alone—in the bush. Unsure whether she could manage the hard work and mechanical demands of a self-sufficient lifestyle, she nevertheless gave it a go—and mostly succeeds.

She has also learnt to live in tune with nature on her wildlife refuge, despite the occasional discordant note, helping to repair past damage and trying to do no more. ‘Civilised conservation' she calls it, ‘having your cake and eating it too—before the wallabies do.'

Sharyn's sustainability concerns became global as climate change loomed—and arrived.

As more people long for a simpler life,
The Woman on the Mountain
reveals what can be achieved when vision and passion are combined with a little hard work, a lot of adaptability—and a dash of humour.