Winter has arrived in all it’s glory! It sure has been cold the last few days. And it has absolutely beautiful up here too. The other day I watched the most magical sunrise I have ever seen. The entire Tyenna Valley was a glowing with a soft golden light. The distant hills and mountains outlined in pink. And snow was falling, soft and fluffy flakes of snow gently drifting down from the sky. Shining white against the golden backdrop. I watched in awe and was reminded more than ever of what an incredible experience it is to live up here.

One afternoon I was sitting enjoying the last of the day’s sun, on a rather warm winter day, when three yellow tailed black cockatoos flew by. Hmmm…. I thought… looks like it’s going to rain. Though, it seemed unlikely given how sunny it was. But what do you know…. Next moment clouds had gathered across the sky and it began raining. I had never been totally convinced on the truth behind the theory that seeing precisely three black cockatoos flying in a group means rain is coming. I thought it must surely be a myth. But I have found up here that it is true every time. I don’t understand why, but it is. If there is one cockatoo, or five cockatoos then it doesn’t mean rain. But three…. it always rains. Next thing you know it had gone from a sunny day to a hectic storm. All night the wind lashed against the tarp and the water gathered and pooled in puddles, precariously above my head, so that I had to keep getting up in the middle of the night to tip them out, lest they collapse the tarp. By the morning it was so cold my fingers felt like ice-blocks and the snow had joined the rain to make an icy slosh in the puddles.

The following morning, there was no snow but there was  a thick layer of frost, so that when I pulled my tarp open it didn’t make its usual crinkling sound, but instead came the sound of cracking ice. Outside on the deck I had to step very tentatively and carefully, as the platform was coated in ice and very slippery.

But in between the snow and ice there has been moments of sunshine. It is amazing how different the winter sunshine compared to summer. I love the way the air seems so crisp and fresh. And the colours seem so radiant in the forest. I was enjoying taking some photos of a little bird who was also taking advantage of the winter sunshine. I went inside to put the camera away, leaving the tarp open. I turned around and thought to myself…. what on earth is all that white fluff on my blanket? I stepped in for a closer look and suddenly I was covered in it too…. ah yes… it was snow and it has snuck in silently and quickly to cover my blanket within a minute!

If Thursday and friday were the days of snow. Then yesterday’s special feature would have to be the rainbow. I think I saw at least ten different rainbows throughout the day. Most were specatacularly vivid and bright.

I must apologise for not blogging lately. Although I have been having a great time enjoying the weather, I have also been having a very frustrating time dealing with technology and power. Oh, how easy it used to be in the city; anytime you want to charge something up all you have to do is go to the wall and plug it in. Oh, the joys of unlimited energy! Up here it is never quiet so simple. And the last few days have been some of the most challenging on this side of things. Every time I went to charge my computer there would be a horrible loud ‘beeeep’ emitted from the inverter. Usually an indication that the battery it is plugged into isn’t charged enough. So a very loyal supporter walked an hour in to see me carrying a very heaving car battery. Finally I have that all set up and am very excited to get the computer going again and get stuck into work. You would not believe how much I was longing to do some work. I was starting to feel jealous of all those people working in offices…. oh to be able to work and work and work on the computer, what a luxury! I sat down at my new desk, thinking about what I was going to write for my blog. And then all of a sudden….’beeep’….. Oh no! The new battery wasn’t working either. So that very same dedicated and loyal supporter came  back the next day, an hour in and an hour out, to deliver me a new inverter. I said, I better test this while your still here, to make sure that it is all working. Yep, all good. Soon as he was gone, what do you know? The terrible ‘beeep’ was back. A new inverter and a new battery… what could possibly be the problem now? I wondered if it might be the cold affecting everything? prehaps. For the third time my loyal supporter walked in again, this time to deliver a different battery and inverter. Thank goodness it has worked and I am finally back online!

It’s funny how the last few days have felt harder than most. I started to wonder: what on earth am I doing up here? Can I really keep going and for how long? I felt frustrated and agitated. I tried to keep myself entertained, but I got bored quickly. I have become so dependent on my computer in order to feel productive, I guess. When I can write my blog, communicate with supporters around the world, spread the word about the forests, keep up to date with what is happening for the forests politically  and keep on top of other tasks, then I feel positive about being up here. But it is easy to start to feel ineffective when those lines of communication are taken away. I guess that really is the amazing thing about the Observer Tree. The fact that I can be in this tree in the middle of the forest in Tasmania and be communicating to people across the globe about what is happening here. And hopefully all the people who have found out about these forests and about the destruction that continues to occur, have gone on to be inspired to take action. When I’m sitting up here on nights like tonight, where my fingers ache as I type because the air is so cold, I think about that and I know that it is worth it.

Well, I must say a big thank you to my support crew for their dedication and hard work in carrying batteries and inverters back and forth through the forest in order to keep me online. And thank you to all of you for your patience with the lack of blog entries. And especially a very big thank you to every one who is reading my blog, taking action and supporting forest protection – you are my inspiration to keep going up here!

Miranda

Thursday marked exactly six months that I have been at the top of this tree.

It’s hard to believe that I have been in this tree for half a year! I think if someone had come up to me in the past and said that I would spend more than six months in a tree I wouldn’t have believed I ever could. But somehow the days turn into weeks and those weeks turn into months. And before long I have been in the tree for six months. It is amazing how adaptable humans can be. How I have just become so used to being up here that it feels normal now. Less and less often I find myself missing things about life on the ground. I just accept each day as it is, another day in a beautiful tree. Having said that, there is of course the other side to it, the knowledge as every day passes that this forest is still under threat. And that forests around Tasmania that have been verified as world heritage and national heritage value continue to be destroyed. I am reminded of this constantly as I look out across a landscape scarred by logging. And most importantly, over areas of pristine forest whose future is on the table.
Everyday the birds do their rounds. They come before sunset. It used to be around 6pm. Then it was more like 5, then 4. Now it is not long after 3. First the spotted pardelote comes. Then the groups of black headed and strong billed honey eaters. Often joined by one solitary yellow throat. There is one pair of black headed honey eaters that are always together, darting about each other. For a moment each day it is busy with the chaos of bird chatter and then they are gone. They move on to the tree with the hollow that looks like an owl and from there they make their way up the ridge. Though, it is of course weather dependent and on some days they don’t come. On the days when I want to stay wrapped up in a blanket, perhaps they want to do the same!
I had never been aware of how much a routine the birds have until this experience. I wondered what the birds would do if this forest ever gets logged. What would happen to their routine? And then it makes me wonder about all of the wildlife in this forest. I mean we pay so much attention to devils and quolls, because they are so significant due to being endangered. But there are also so many other creatures that live here. I can only imagine the disruption caused to all these species when their habitat is clearfelled and burnt. When you walk through a forest like this you hear so many birds singing and fluttering about. But sitting in the tree over such a long time, I feel like I have come to know these birds personally, as they visit my tree daily. And I begin to feel a sense of responsiblity for them. I sit and watch them and sometimes they watch me with a curious eye, head cocked to the side. They don’t seem scared of me anymore. But I feel like a traitor, because if only they knew that it is my species that has destroyed the homes of their friends and family in nearby forest. It is my species that may come in here one day soon and destroy their homes too.
It could have been midnight for all I knew when I woke up this morning. The stars were glowing in the sky. The moon, now a sliver of light hung above the tree tops. The valley below like a white lake, its forest hidden beneath a thick layer of fog that glowed silver in the moonlight. I checked the time – 6am. It’s amazing how it can be morning and still feel like night, now that we are in the middle of winter. I sat and watched the landscape change as the pre-dawn light slowly began to creep across the sky. When the glow of sunrise came, it brought with it brilliant pinks, oranges and reds that swept across the clouds above Mount Field. I thought to myself how lucky I am. It is something I am reminded of so often up here. How many people in the world get to see such a spectacular view every day?
As the final colours were fading from the clouds and the sun was at last showing it’s face above the mountain ridges, a hear a familiar whoosh whoosh whoosh of wings flapping – the distinct sound of carrawong wings. It must be Carra, the friendly Carrawong. And before long there she was on the branch near my tree that she always perches on. Looking at me with that gleaming eye, head tilted to the side. With a little jump she’s on the platform and hoping around, pecking at the floor in the hope of finding some tiny morsel of scraps. There isnt’ really anything for her to eat here, but she is hopeful anyway. She looks up at me again and we watch each other, still and silent. Again I think to myself, how lucky I am.
Yes, six months is a long time. Longer than I ever imagined I would stay in a tree. And there are of course things I dearly miss about life on the land! But I also know that this experience has been a life changing one. A chance to get to know a tree, a forest, a landscape and the creatures that are a part of this land. And now that I know it, my resolve has deepened even more. I will never be able to stand back and let the chain saws wipe this place from the face of the earth. I never want to stand in a burnt out and empty clearfell of a land I once knew. I never want to see a lost pardelote looking for its favorate tree, or hear the sad call of a carrawong flying through the haze of smoke.
This is just one tree in the forest. One group of honey eaters and one lone spotted pardelote. There are many more, right across Tasmania. That are just as important, only no one has had the chance to get to know them. So right now they fall in silence. Well, the sound is deafening to the devils hiding in their den. And the crash of trees falling is terrifying to the birds that fly away in a frantic uproar. But to the people of the world… it is completely silent. Because  if no one is watching, no one is seeing, no one knows.
There are different ways of knowing. I know these forests in one way, the way of the observer. But there are some people who know these forests in a different capacity. The independent team of experts and scientists who have verified these forests know them in terms of their national and world heritage values, their carbon storage capacity, their important tracts of endangered species habitat and their water catchments. And through this knowledge they have declared this forest worthy of world heritage status. Over 560,000 hectares of forest in Tasmania has been declared to be of significant and in need of protection. We can not continue to go on not seeing the destruction, because we know now the importance of what it is we are losing. The forests cannot continue to fall in silence. But it is up to us to break that silence. It is up to us to speak up and speak out for these forests, because the honey eaters and pardelotes cannot. That is why I will continue to spread this message across the world. But I need help. Please take a minute to stand up for these forests.

Click here to take action.
Thank you,
Miranda

You might find it hard to believe, I know, but I’ll tell you it’s true:  I didn’t panic, I didn’t even feel scared. That’s right, this morning as I opened my eyes to the day and saw a spider crawling out from inside my swag, and making it’s away across the pillow…. I remained uncannily calm. Now you may well know by now that spiders have been a great challenge for me in my tree top life. And I think today marks a momentous occasion… I am finally getting used to them. And in turn, perhaps this says something about my changing relationship to the environment I am now a part of. Only a few mornings ago I was marvelling at the brilliance of a silvery spider-web, glistening with dew-drops in the misty morning. And I began to think about how beautiful these creatures are. I mean, the delicate spider web strung just out of reach from my platform is a long way for the encroaching presence of spiders crawling in my bed in the dark of the night… but still, it made me appreciate them in a new light.

The other day when I was sitting typing a message on my phone, a little eucalyptus beetle crawled onto the screen. It made its slow way across the keys as I waited patiently for it to move out-of-the-way of the one I needed to press. As I typed my long, detailed message, the beetle went on a journey of discovery around my phone, onto my hand, back onto the phone, and again on my hand. It made me smile. I felt as though I was in a cartoon, where this moment would symbolise the fact that I have been in this tree for a long time…. You can imagine the scene now, I am sitting very still at the top of the tree, unflinching as beetles and bugs crawl over me, maybe even a vine has started growing around my foot! Well, it’s not quite like that! But the interplay between beetle and mobile phone seemed to epitomise my current situation, with it’s interesting combination of being comfortable with both technology and nature.

Speaking of cartoons…. Have you ever noticed how if they want to illustrate that someone is up very high this is done by having a bird fly gracefully past. Imagine a situation where someone’s house is floating up into the sky and they look out the window and see nothing but blue sky, a few clouds, and a bird flying by at eye level. Well, this is exactly what it was like for me when I was talking on the phone and I looked out my “window” and at that very moment three yellow-tailed black cockatoos were making their way right past me at eye level. Their wings gracefully moving up and down. Did I almost notice one looking at me and catch my eye?

Perhaps I am becoming more connected to nature up here. But there are some things that I become less connected to. And one of those things is mud. I realised that today when I had visitors to my platform. And they brought with them mud, contaminating my clean white platform with their ground-dwelling dirt! It has been raining heavily the last few days and the ground below has apparently become quiet muddy. These are things you forget about when you live in a tree. I had to make a “boots off” policy for when guests cross the line between my “deck” and “indoors” … to at least keep my bedroom clean! But it sure did have me reminiscing about life downstairs! I imagined what it would be like to stand on the ground again. The forest floor beneath my boots squelching with mud. The springiness of the moss-covered ground. I imagined what it’s like to have to step up and over logs, to walk on the uneven surface. Up hills, down hills, putting one foot in front of another over and over again…. (I think about four steps is the limit up here before you have to turn around and pace back the other way). I imagined walking through the streets in Hobart, the feeling of the footpath beneath my shoes. I imagined taking my shoes off and walking on soft grass. It’s almost hard to believe that I haven’t put my feet on the ground in so long. Sometimes I peer over the edge and see it there. It’s 60 meters away, which in the scheme of things is not really that far. Yet for me it feels so distant because I cannot go there, have not been there in five and a half months. I’ve made the commitment to stay in this tree until the forest is protected, and I am absolutely determined to continue to with my tree top vigil for as long as this takes. There are things I miss about walking on the ground (though muddy boots isn’t really one of those things). However, I do not want to put my feet on the forest floor below me until I know that this tree and the forest around it will be protected now and into the future.

And that’s where you come in… because the more people who get on board the sooner we can make it happen. Every day that passes is another day in which high conservation value forests across Tasmania are being lost. Please take a moment to sign the cyber action, sending a message to the corporate customers of Ta Ann. Let them know that you, like me, want to see these forests safe from logging.

Miranda

It’s been an interesting week in Tasmania. With the forest negotiations back in full swing now that the Forest Industries Association of Tasmania (FIAT) have re-entered the talks. The talks have been stalled for a while now with FIAT refusing to engage and scapegoating environmentalists, blaming us for their decision not to be involved. At last they must have realised that the future of the industry is going nowhere without forest protection. It is clear products in the global marketplace that have come from the destruction of Tasmania’s precious forests will not be viable in the long-term. The industry needs a resolution too, because it needs to move forward out of native forest destruction for its own sake.

Meanwhile, as the talks continue the forests are still under threat. Without interim protection of a moratorium (due well over a year ago and never implemented) or a conservation agreement (due 9 months ago, never fully implemented) the very forests they are discussing are being lost everyday.  And meanwhile, as the talks continue, Ta Ann are still misleading their customers in the international market, claiming to be selling “eco wood.” Just recently  an article appeared in the Malaysian Star where Ta Ann were quoted as saying “the timber is from managed regrowth forests or from pruned plantations.”   There is clear and documented evidence that Ta Ann’s wood supply demands are the key driver behind destruction of high conservation value, world heritage value and old growth forests and that these forests continue to be logged despite the negotiation process.

This is why I believe that now more than ever we need to keep the pressure up in order to ensure that this process does deliver forest protection.  Now is the time, in the next few weeks to make sure that those involved in the talks and Ta Ann know the absolute necessity of protecting the forests and transitioning the industry out of native forest destruction. If you haven’t already signed the cyber action, please do and share it around.

As I started to imagine what it might be like if there is a positive outcome and forest protection delivered soon…. This got me to imagining what it would be like to get down out of the tree!  What would it be like to put my feet on the ground again? I started to imagine the things I might do (have a long hot bath) , the people I might see (my Mum), the places I might go! Prehaps not a good idea… I think my sanity relies on taking every day as it is up here. Not thinking about the future, not imagining all the things I might do when I get back to the ground. Just accepting each day for what it is. Because I don’t know how long it will be till I get down. I can’t make any plans for the future. It seems strange to look into the future and see so much uncertainty… it could be soon, but what if there is no outcome that results in forest protection? What then? In this way I am connected to the forests even more than ever, because like me the forests must wait in a time of uncertainty. The wedge tail eagles, the Tasmanian devils, the spot tail quolls, they must all wait while their futures are decided. Will they be safe and secure for the future? Will the baby devil here have babies growing up in the same den that it was born in? Or will its den be lost forever? I wait and the forest waits.

Imagine what it will mean for Tasmania if the forests are protected? Imagine what it will mean for all of these places that remain… the pristine untouched forests that have been evolving for hundreds of thousands of years. These areas that are marked for logging, that are waiting on death-row… they will be free to survive into the future, indefinitely, permanently. Imagine what it will mean for the animals. The ones whose fate is held in the balance right now. Who may end up trapped under log-loaders, who may be left homeless, the ones who may face the firing squad as they innocently munch on seedlings in a clearfell. They do not know that this is the future that may await them. I hope that they will never know it. I hope they can go about their lives in peace and they will never know that they were on the brink of death, perhaps on the brink of extinction. I hope….

But I guess for their sakes we have to do more than hope. We have to do everything in our power to make sure that we create a future for Tasmania’s forests and wildlife. These next few weeks could be critical in terms of locking in a solution that is good for the forests, or not. Please get on board, let’s do everything we can, for the sake of those devils and pademelons who cannot speak for themselves.

Please help protect Tasmania’s precious forests.
Click HERE to sign the online action.