by Paula Peeters | Mar 8, 2016 | Writing
They look back at me, these opulent rams, their pale blunt faces and curling horns embedded in outrageous excesses of wool. Long dead now, once they were the pride of this place. Now they stare out of black and white photos, with faux-painted backgrounds,...
by Paula Peeters | Feb 17, 2016 | Writing
The osprey sees all. High above the town on a metal wire bowl, atop a mobile phone tower. From her crookedly pile of driftwood nest, she surveys the scene. A scattering of fibro shacks, low blocky brick apartment buildings, squat lowset brick houses, clustered near...
by Paula Peeters | Feb 11, 2016 | Tales of science
Many rainforest trees begin their life in the beak of a wompoo fruit dove. And wompoos find it hard to survive without rainforest. This partnership is among the latest in a long series of trysts between rainforest trees and fruit-eating birds. A fruit and its seeds...
by Paula Peeters | Feb 3, 2016 | Books
Imagine if the world was invaded by aliens who were of equal intelligence to us, but just did things incredibly faster. Thanks to vastly different technology and adaptations to those of humans, these aliens were able to move faster, reproduce faster, and communicate...
by Paula Peeters | Jan 26, 2016 | Forest portraits, Wildlife illustration
Freshwater National Park smells burnt, but it looks lush green. I can hear the sleepy chortles of lorikeets, somewhere up in the bloodwoods. It’s late afternoon, on a hot January day. Maybe they’ve had too much sun, or too much nectar, or both. Scribbly gums rise like...