Flora the Lyrebird prepared the forest for the next lot of humans.
She cleaned the mud from the signage warning them of the hazards, and that there is nothing there for them.
But the group of four human creatures entered the forest, drawn to the peak like a possum to processed sugar.
The other Lyrebirds were less sympathetic.
Why do you bother to do all this work? Humans are not your friends.
Their shit stinks out our habitat.
Their helicopters drown our singing.
But Flora was defiant.
If we put up some platforms for the humans to feel more cosy in their plastic shells, and clear out the trails from tripping hazards, we will make it safer for them, and thus quieter for us.
Flora continued to address the nest council: Look, no one thinks that humans are particularly smart. We can all agree on that. All I’m trying to do is make it a little bit more accessible, to reduce the number of helicopter rescues.
I’m sure no one in this flock would disagree that helicopters are the biggest threat to our afternoon chorus.
But if you make it accessible and comfortable, wouldn’t you get more humans in?
I’m afraid humans will continue to come regardless. It’s because of instagram, a force we cannot control.
Flora was a big advocate for all species inclusivity. An agenda that didn’t sit well with some of the other birds.
As the four humans got deeper into the rainforest, she jumped out and tried to warn them. But as usual, the humans just stopped for a moment to admire her wings and carried on.
It’s lucky they have good weather she thought.
Flora watched as the four persevered through the trail and reached the first hut.
Maybe they will give up here. I build it specifically to make it feel like they are in their shitty nests. Confined and crowded, with poor views.
One of the humans in the group started complaining. Something about the view and food. She sensed a trauma approaching as the human drank a warm liquid from a plastic container.
Smells like metho! She quickly intervened and smacked into a nearby bush, causing a branch to fall and strike the human and make them spit out the toxic mix.
The other humans soon followed and disposed of their warm liquids.
Another helicopter operation averted.
Why do the humans carry all this poison, and packaged food with them when there are delicious insects everywhere for free?
Flora felt sorry for the foolish creatures.
Darkness fell over the campsite at lake Vera and the humans wrapped themselves in a vortex of Gortex to stay warm, and dreamed about the quartzite peaks.
The sun was out the following morning and the humans set out to the summit.
Flora was giggling to herself as she watched them scramble up the rainforest, banging their heads into branches, getting cuts and bruises from their own signage posts.
Don’t be an ableist, she said to herself. Most creatures don’t have the wings to carry them up to the peaks to see that there’s nothing there for them. Most creatures don’t have the privilege to look at the world from above.
She was excited for the human creatures when they reached the saddle over looking Artichoke valley. Their joy when they encounter the leaves of the Fagus, like yellow sun spots shining from the green forest below.
Autumn was always her favourite time of the year. But the autumn, also brought memories of great distress for the birds.
Last autumn was particularly loud as a human creature became lost and gave up to the southern chills. The noise from the helicopters disturbed the flight lessons of many offsprings and caused irreversible damage.
A silly human thought it would be a good idea to carry a bottle of cognac and a kilo of cheese to the peak. It was a cultural reference to the name given by humans to the high rock.
The human poisoned themselves, tried to leave, and fell to their death.
The noise from the rescue operation was going for days.
It only takes one beak head to ruin it for everyone.
She hoped that this was not the case with the current group. One of them, who often complained, was more frail than the others. He was close to giving up and Flora was concerned about the group having to return to their rattle box the following day.
She perched on the tree near the hut at Lake Tahune and observed the group after their successful ascent.
Their spirits were high, they ate aplenty, food to nourish their soul and skinny wings. They had their own cultural food to celebrate their success. It was chickpea chips sprinkled on crackers and made into a spread by adding water. How bizarre, she thought. They could just spit on it and save the water.
The poisoning incident was forgotten and the weather forecast for the following day was improving.
If Flora lost a feather for every human creature slipping on wet rocks and roots on the way down, she would lose her ability to fly.
But there were other things to worry about.
Another pair of human creatures have failed to return from the summit to the hut and the sun was already down.
Flora flew back to the headquarter nest to warn the others.
Zaiden wasn’t happy.
You beak head! How many times did I tell you that sympathising for the human creatures will only bring us closer to the fate of that tiger.
We gotta let everyone know to relocate the nests north and abandon the flightless chooks.
Please Zaiden, calm down, give them a moment, they have a GPS.
What the beak is a GPS?
It’s a Global Positioning System, we were born with it, in case you haven’t noticed.
I think that the problem here is that you fail to see the similarities between us and the human creatures.
You always talk about the negatives, the destruction they cause, how stupid they are, you mock their useless wings. It’s true that they can’t see what we see, and they can’t appreciate a crunchy spider, but they are capable of kindness and empathy.
They too, sometimes forget where home is, and where they are going. Concerned about their future destination so much they don’t pay attention to the path they are taking.
Look at our flock, we enjoyed abundance of insects in this forest for decades, had sex like rabbits, and now our population is out of control. We didn’t set out to be stupid, but sometimes we cannot predict the consequences of our behaviour. Even if we mean well.
You should know better, Zaiden, less than a century ago, we were way up north, tortured by the foxes, and we found a new home, thanks to human made wings, inspired by our kind.
And now, we own this forest, we are eating all the juicy worms that sustained the bandicoots. What have they done wrong? The bandicoots were exemplary members of the forest community and we have pushed them to the bottom of the food chain.
Can’t you see how hypocritical it is of you to blame the humans for everything?
Zaiden was quiet for a moment and turned his gaze towards the mountain. I hate bandicoots. They are just as useless as the humans who introduced the foxes in the first place. But I see your point. We are here now and we need to share this place with them. So, what do you propose, Flora? The flock is ticking.
Let’s wait another hour. I’ll sus out the humans and report back.
Flora flew back to Tahune hut. From above, with the faint light of the stars, she could see the couple slowly navigating the boulders in the dark, until they made it to the hut safely.
She informed the nest to stand down. Zaiden was still grumpy, but she didn’t care. She flew back to the hut and parked on a branch for the night. Falling asleep with a smile on her beak.
I’ll keep an eye on the group tomorrow. They will attempt to make it all the way back to their rattle box.
First light illuminated a blanket of clouds on the peak. The Frenchman lost its cap. It could start raining at any point. The four human creatures had their breakfast, packed their bags and embarked on the journey back.
Flora was concerned about the frail human who was still complaining, but as the rain seem to hold off, and the group was singing their way down the slope, taking in the colours of the Fagus and fungi against the towering spires of white rock, she glided gracefully above them and showed them the way.
She watched happily as they made it to lake Vera, had a short break and continued on. They made it out of the forest just before dark and plunged their naked bodies in the Franklin river with a sigh of relief.
On her way back to the nest, Flora stopped for a snack. She shuffled some dry leaves, and found a juicy worm. As the worm wiggled in her beak, she noticed a hungry Bandicoot under the Banksia tree.
She turned to the Bandicoot and placed the worm next to it. The Bandicoot looked at her, devoured the worm and quickly disappeared into the forest.
She returned to the nest and deliberately ignored Zaiden.
He looked at her disapprovingly as she settled in for the night and said
Well, how did your humans go?
They made it to the pub, eating a bird.
Frenchmans Cap, April 2025
Parks and Wildlife Services Tasmania track notes for Frenchmans Cap
Photo Credit: top- Picture of Fagus against the background of Nichols Needle on the way back from Tahune taken by Myf. Frenchmans Cap was behind us at that point, covered in thick cloud.
Bottom: on the way down from the summit, taken by Dany.
