Connection is the bedrock of hope

The 141 bird species in our journal is more than just a list. It’s a reflection of our love of this wild world.

I feel like the English language needs a new word. I can’t find one to describe a state of curiosity in nature that feels more like enchantment infused with eros. Something that is like a life force. The ‘philia’ words (biophilia - love of nature or ornithophilia - love of birds) don’t do it for me . They feel too bookish. I want the word to feel on the tongue how it feels in the body.

Where is this reflection coming from?

Spectacled Monarch. Forest Kingfisher. Torresian Crow. Rainbow Bee-eater.

I’ve recently been turned on again by birds. My original love of birds was sparked by being mentored by Andrew the bird guy during my year in the bush in 2010. He showed me some birds, how to use binoculars, modelled his lifelong passion for not just seeing but understanding bird behaviour AND showed some interest in my development (great mentoring qualities). With that I was off. What a gift. However in recent years I’d become a bit complacent, partly because of lack of time for sit spotting, and also falling into the ‘it’s just a raven’ habit.

So on our recent two month trip away, I set the family a challenge to see how many birds we could identify. Little did I know this would form the backbone of our experience.

Pacific Baza. Striated Heron. Red-backed Fairy Wren. Pied Oystercatcher. 

Everywhere we went, our eyes and ears were wide open for the feathered ones. We were electric with curiosity. I was riding a second learning curve, listening and looking with wide open sensitivity. Dan up at 4am to see both the first birds and the stallions in the sand dunes. Me paddle boarding down the turquoise estuary at sunset to catch a glimpse of the pair of sea eagles fishing. It became one of the central threads of our family conversation, even little River coming up with his own bird list of made up names (treetops bird, spotted fairy wren, pineapple bird).  

Teenage Angus emerged from his tent one morning sharing an observation of an ‘LBB’ (little brown bird). I asked him a few questions to get him looking deeper. The bird visited his tent the next morning, and he proudly identified it as a striated thornbill - a new bird for our list!

The next morning he lingered longer to get to know this new friend, and the thornbill finally allowed him to witness its nest of 4 speckled eggs. He still talks about this bird. In some healthy competition, Nadia spotted the elusive Buff-banded Rail. On her recent school camp, teaching others about birds was her highlight. She had something to offer!

This is what Jon Young means when he speaks of the art of cultivating threads and ropes of connection - ropes are formed by repeated recognition and interaction with the world around you, a process that begins with a "thin thread" and grows stronger over time. Ropes that embed us in the web of life. Our young ones need this medicine so deeply.

An old activist friend I visited recently said “there’s so much to be depressed about, we need more places that bring hope and joy.”

Connection is the bedrock of hope. The 141 bird species in our journal is more than just a list. It’s a reflection of our love of this wild world, and our willingness to enter into the great conversation.

Topped up on connection, we’ve come home ready to share! Coming up are three free events:

🪶 Wed 12th Nov: Free online info hour for Men’s Quest Program
🦋 Mon 24th Nov: Free online information evening for the 2026 Nature Based Leadership Training
🌳 Sun 7th Dec: Free community taster day for Nature-Based Leadership Training

I hope you can join us, and top up your own connection cup.

Wildly,

Claire

P.S Our beloved Emily Coats is back after her 7 month solo bush stint. Watch this space for stories and check out her latest offering.

P.P.S If you think of a word to describe ‘enchanted curiosity’ let me know!