“Full many a glorious morning have I seen the sun flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye”. The coming of the light (photo by Ian Kealley). Sunlight has come up in three contexts in my life recently, giving me cause to think about how much I love this wonder of nature, and reminding me of how easily it can be taken for granted, or abused. The first occasion was when I came across an article emanating from some bastion of academia in Britain. “Scientists”, it was repo

A 1920s song sheet, reminding me of one of my favourite bush aromas. It came as no surprise to me the other day, when I read that scientists have confirmed that of all human senses, the sense of smell is most closely linked to the memory banks in the mind. I know what they mean. I not only enjoy the distinctive aromas of the Australian bush (and others) but have found many times in many places that a whiff of something in the air will instantly transport me back to some

A carpet python swallowing a numbat in the Dryandra Forest: one rare species devouring another. (photo by Sean van Alphen). I will never forget an evening many years ago when I was working for the Department of Conservation and Land Management and was on the podium at a public meeting. I can’t now remember what the meeting was about, other than that it was something to do with wildlife conservation, and I was either defending the department or promoting it. There were pre

George Peet: WA’s greatest forest fire fighter I was listening to the old Hank Williams song Settin’ the woods on fire the other day, and this started me thinking about George Peet, a man who played a significant part in my professional life, and one of Western Australia’s greatest sons. He set the woods on fire more times than most, not as an arsonist, but as a champion bushfire fighter. Above all, George understood the concept of fighting fire with fire. He was the man

The cover of my book with its photograph of the doyen of botanists, Charles Austin Gardner, responsible for identifying and naming hundreds of Western Australian native plants Some years ago, I was involved in an interesting project: researching and writing a book on the history of botanical science in Western Australia. I enjoyed this, because I have had a lifetime interest in plants, especially trees, and have worked closely with many professional botanists. The project a

My late mother-in-law’s RAN Anzac Biscuit tin – now in our possession and used appropriately … for storing Anzac biscuits. First, a definition. The Chief Chef at Google sums it up pretty well: “The Anzac Biscuit is a sweet biscuit, popular in Australia and New Zealand, made using rolled oats, flour, sugar, butter, golden syrup, baking soda, boiling water and desiccated coconut.” But it is more than that … it is a culinary icon, both in Australia and New Zealand, and it is

Frank “Typhoon” Tyson, delivering a thunderbolt during the 1954/5 Ashes Like most Australians, I am an afficionado of the Boxing Day Test at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (the MCG, usually called simply “The G”). It’s true I have never been to one, being a Western Australian, but I have been watching them on TV for many years, and they rarely disappoint. The most recent match, however, commencing on December 26 th (Boxing Day) 2025, was a dispiriting affair, and disappointed

Giimlet trees in their autumn colours, at Yeerakine Rock (photo by Ian Keally ) Back when I was a lad, in the years just after World War II, I was a devotee of Captain Lorrington King, known as “Gimlet”, the hero of a series of boys' adventure stories. Gimlet was a clever and brave British army commando who made life unpleasant for the Nazis. Accompanied by his two off-siders, one a Cockney former London cop and the other a cunning French-Canadian bear-trapper with a pencha

My fellow-forestry student in 1961: George Matthiessen – the most intelligent and at the same time the most mischievous man I ever knew (photo by Jack Bradshaw). It was George Matthiessen who suggested the Great Orange Caper, and that should have been enough to make me wary. George had a way of coming up with little schemes and projects that ended badly, and having known him for a year or two, I should have been alert to their dangers by that time. But he also had a wa

The once-iconic sycamore tree at a gap in Hadrian’s Wall There is a fairy tale that goes: “Once upon a time, there was … …a woodcutter and his friend [who] spent all their time together. The woodcutter, the elder of the two, lived alone; he had no family. The younger man, who made his living fixing things, had a partner and children. Everyone knew that the two were friends. The younger man had a workshop that he shared with two owls. He was there one day when the woodcutter

The cover of my paperback copy of Guy Chapman’s book, the inspiration for this story From time to time, I used to come across one of Alan Bennett's diaries, either in book form or published as a serial in The London Review of Books. They are good reading. Bennett's writing is concise and witty; he has an artist's eye for detail and a dramatist's ear for dialogue. The diaries seem at first glance to be mere reportage of everyday events, but they are invariably interesting a

The common pigeon, or Rock Dove, found in Western Australia – seen here, on the grass I was reading an anthology of wonderful stories by the American humorist James Thurber the other day and came across a line of poetry that he lampooned: “ Pigeons on the grass, alas”. It was only when I pronounced ‘grass’ the American way (to rhyme with ‘alas’) rather than the Australian way (‘grahse’) could I start to make any sense at all of the line – at least it contained a rhyme. But

Boranup karri forest, oil painting by Rick Sneeuwjagt Once upon a time, back in the day when people sent and received Christmas Cards, there was a Christmas season when the first card I received that year was especially noteworthy. It had a lovely photograph of karri ( Eucalyptus diversicolor ) forest on the front. “Boranup State Forest, by the look of it” I thought. Boranup is a forest I have known very well for over fifty years and I was confident I recognised it. Tur

A symbolic picture: Beatrice Shilling, long after the war – aged in her 60s – astride a 100 mph motorcycle and with a Spitfire in the background. Beatrice Shilling (or “Tilly Shilling” as she is now often known) is a great hero of mine. Some of you will be nodding, and saying “Ah yes, what a champion she was”. Others may be asking who Beatrice Shilling is, and why is she a hero? This is the story. My interest in it began with a mundane little domestic incident, but I think

The ‘Trumpet Volunteer’ in about 1958. The black and white photograph does not do justice to my vivid yellow socks. During the mid to late-1950s I was a member of a unique and enterprising little musical group, known unpretentiously as The Havelock Street Jazz Band. There were four of us: Richard "Ðicky" Bird, Barry "Leb" Levinson, Richard "Kelly" Kelsall and me. In 1956 we were Year 10 students at Hale School, then located on Havelock Street in West Perth. We were old fr

The southern end of Lake Mears, a small gem of the WA wheatbelt … and a place of mystery Before I get started on Lake Mears and its...

Donald Bradman (“The Don”) at the end of his career, aged 40, still relaxed, confident and scoring Test match centuries I wonder if...

The cover of Patsy Adam-Smith’s childhood memoir Patsy Adam-Smith is one of my favourite Australian writers. She has a simple, clean...

Foresters Frank Batini and Charlie Kelers admire a Pinus canariensis in the Mundaring pine plantations. It is tall, straight, free of...

Ferdinand the Bull – resting in the shade of a cork oak tree, be-hung with clusters of ripening corks I had a most fortuitous...