Articoli di riviste sul tema "Arid regions animals - New South Wales"

Surveys for juvenile Mythimna convecta throughout the agricultural and arid regions of eastern Australia were conducted from 1986 to 1989. Armyworm populations north of 33 degrees S were generally dominated by M. convecta, and further south by Persectania ewingii. M. convecta was most widely distributed in spring. Incidence during autumn and winter ranged from very low in Victoria to high in northern New South Wales and southern Queensland. Summer infestations were found mostly on the south-east coast where favourable habitats were abundant. Colonised habitats included extremely arid regions, where small numbers of larvae were associated with grasses in temporary watercourses, and the higher-rainfall, eastern regions. The largest infestations occurred in south-east Queensland and north central and north-east New South Wales, particularly after heavy autumn rains. There appeared to be two generations of M. convecta over the autumn/winter period: the first a synchronised event starting on the autumn rains and the second commencing in June/July and comprising a wide spread in age distribution. The progeny of the winter generation are probably the source of most economic outbreaks. Mythimna convecta larvae were collected from subtropical and temperate grasses. In the former, most larvae were found in tussocks, particularly of Dichanthium sericeum and Chloris truncata, which provided a dense, fine-leaf crown and canopy. After good autumn rainfall and vegetative growth, the wiry-stemmed tussocks, including Astrebla spp. and C. ciliaris, were also common hosts. The temperate grasses, particularly Avena fatua and Hordeum leporinum, were the main winter hosts although the greatest densities were found only in thick swards of growth, particularly those that contained dried grass. Two of the largest surveys, in autumn 1987 and 1988, followed periods of heavy rain and provided strongly contrasting results. The 1987 survey of central and south-west Queensland located no M. convecta larvae, indicating that densities were below detection thresholds. The paucity of larvae was attributed to lack of suitable atmospheric conditions to assist moth immigrations and absence of adequate populations in potential source areas. The 1988 survey revealed a major outbreak of M. convecta larvae in south-east Queensland and northern New South Wales. The area received record rains during early April of that year, and the outbreak probably arose from moth migrations from the east and south-east coast. An outbreak of similar scale occurred after further heavy autumn rains in 1989.

The Great Artesian Basin (GAB) underlies a vast, mainly arid, region where most of the indigenous biota are not dependent upon surface water. In contrast, an important minority is dependent on refuges such as mound springs and their associated wetlands. In some parts of the GAB, such as western New South Wales, many springs have either ceased to flow, or are now barely detectable, because the proliferation of artesian waterbores has reduced groundwater pressures. Because of the rarity of species endemic to mound springs, and the damage they have suffered since pastoral settlement, emphasis should be directed towards conservation and possible rejuvenation of these ecosystems. Provision of artificial sources of water allows more widespread grazing by livestock, larger native and feral herbivores, thereby posing threats to native plants and animals that do not use the water. Because of the proliferation of artificial waters and the grazing they allow, terrestrial grazing-sensitive species now appear to be confined to tiny patches in the landscape. Some nature reserves within the GAB retain numerous artificial sources of water. Most of these should be closed over time to reduce negative impacts on grazing-sensitive plants and animals, especially where these species are inadequately protected elsewhere. In those regions where the ratio of artificial to natural waters is still low, consideration should be given to balancing provision of water for livestock with conservation of biological diversity, by maintaining a patchwork of areas remote from water. In regions where the density of artificial waters is high, conservation of biodiversity on freehold and leasehold lands might be enhanced with a mix of approaches accommodating the needs of the biota and the aspirations of landholders, tailored according to land type and condition. Key words: Great Artesian Basin, biological diversity, mound springs, refuges, rare biota, grazing impact, conservation management, groundwater.

The semi-arid to arid Western Division of New South Wales has suffered significant levels of land degradation due to overstocking by domestic animals and rabbits. Three major forms of land degradation are identified, soil erosion, woody weed growth and pasture quality decline. Restoration techniques developed and applied by the New South Wales Soil Conservation Service are presented and discussed. The successful techniques presented are contour furrowing and waterponding for sheet eroded or scalded areas, fire and blade ploughing for woody weed control and grazing management to reverse pasture decline. The lack of knowledge on pasture species responses to grazing management stimuli is highlighted.

An aerial survey of 966,000 km2 of the arid/semi-arid rangelands of Queensland and New South Wales in the winter of 1992 indicated a minimum feral goat population of almost 1 million animals (density 0.97�0.12/km2). Observed density (f standard error) was higher in New South Wales (1.51�0.23/km2) than in Queensland (0.47�0.09/km2).

Comprising the proceedings and plenary session of the forum ?Animals of arid Australia: out on their own?? held in Mosman, New South Wales in 2004, this publication consists of 17 papers that bring together a range of themes on the fauna and land use of Australia?s arid zone. The authors encompass various disciplines and backgrounds, and a wide range of skills.

A monthly survey involving officers from eastern New South Wales Pastures Protection Boards was conducted over four years from 1982 to 1985. Information was collected on the number and type of livestock attacked within each board district, sightings of wild dogs, the number of wild dogs kiied, the method by which they were kiied and the locations at which the observations occurred. A total of 25,644 livestock animals were reported killed or wounded from four regions; the North-East Coastal Region, the North-East Tablelands Region, the Central-East Region and South-East Region. Sheep were the most commonly attacked domestic animals followed by cattle and goats. Regional differences were apparent in the type of livestock killed and seasonal patterns of predation were evident. We recommend that annual control programmes be brought forward from June/July to late April in order to precede predation peaks.

The dusky hopping mouse (Notomys fuscus) is present in the arid areas of South Australian, north-west New South Wales and south-west Queensland. In October-November 2007 during the seventh year of annual fauna monitoring on the Beverley mine lease, north of Lake Frome, 4 animals were detected. The closest known population is 70 km north-east. Heavy rainfall earlier in the year may have contributed to their presence.

Thirty-three species of butterflies are recorded from the Griffith district in the semi-arid zone of inland southern New South Wales. The butterfly community comprises the following structure: 19 species (58%) are resident; 7 (21 %) are regular immigrants; 2 (6%) are irregular immigrants; 5 (15%) are vagrants. Except for a few migratory species, most occur in relatively low abundance. Lack of similar studies elsewhere in western New South Wales precludes generalizations regarding the species richness, composition and structure of semi-arid butterfly communities. Comparison of the butterfly fauna with that from five other inland regions on the slopes and foothills of the Great Diving Range, revealed that the Griffith district is most similar in species richness and composition to that of Deniliquin and to a lesser extent Wagga Wagga and Cowra in the south, than with two regions in the higher summer rainfall area of the north of the State (Coonabarabran-Mendooran, Narrabri-Bellata). Overall, the butterfly fauna of inland New South Wales (total of 73 species, of which 49 occur in the southern regions) is depauperate compared with that recorded from the coastal/subcoastal areas east of the Great Dividing Range. Attention is drawn to the conservation significance of several vegetation types and habitat remnants in the Griffith district. Much of the native vegetation in the district has been extensively modified since European settlement due to excessive clearing for agriculture, resulting in a highly fragmented landscape for the conservation of native flora and fauna. With the exception of the lycaenid Candalides hyacinthinus Simplex, which is considered threatened locally, there is a general absence of narrow range endemic butterflies associated with mallee-heathland or mallee-woodland, possibly as a result of widespread land clearing practices of mallee vegetation in the past.

Sustainable use of wildlife has become equated with exploitation of animal products (meat, skin or feathers) and/or removal of wild progenitors into the pet trade. This consumption of the wildlife is therefore largely ex situ and so removes nutrients and energy from the rangelands. Demand for lethal or a removal action is often driven by the severity of the perceived conflict between the wildlife and other enterprises, especially agriculture, rather than for the resulting products. Such uses also raise community concerns about humane treatment of animals and a valuing of the natural heritage. Wildlife-based tourism, as part of the valuable and growing nature-based or ecotourism industry in Australia, is an in situ use that may be a more ecologically sustainable and economically twble option for use of rangeland wildlife. This paper examines these possibilities and their problems with a focus on the commercial kangaroo industry and the use of arid-zone mammals, birds and reptiles for pets. It provides new evidence that wildlife-tourism based on free-living kangaroos in the rangelands is both feasible and in demand. This industry should be given advocacy in the on-going debate on the management and future of the rangelands. Key words: kangaroos, wildlife management, wildlife tourism, game harvesting

Following a sequence of favourable years in which pasture growth over much of the arid zone of Australia reached very high ievels, controlled burns were carried out on two contrasting vegetation types in the extreme north-west of New South Wales. A wheei-point apparatus was used to measure subse- quent changes in botanical composition and foliage cover over a four year period. On a pasture periodically dominated by Mitchell grass (Astrebla spp.) burning while growing conditions were favourable resulted in only a small long- term decrease in the cover of Mitchell grass. In the short-term all chenopod species were eliminated and a wider range and greater abundance of annual forbs were promoted in the following spring. On a similar area burned by wildfire in a year of low summer rainfall the response from Mitchell grass was much poorer and botanical composition of the pasture present in the following spring differed from that which developed in the spring following the controlled burn. It also differed from that of the unburnt pasture. The major differences were due to the response of forb species and are attributed to variation in seasonal rainfall. On a dune-system pasture the dominant grasses were species of Aristida and Enneapogon. These are relatively short-lived and appear to have little ability to regrow from the butt after fire. Their slow regeneration after the burn was reflected in the substantial increase in relative abundance of perennial forbs in the following autumn, and of annual forbs the next spring. Although fire appeared to have no long-term effect on the pasture it dramatically reduced tree and shrub numbers. It is suggested that during years in which abnormal quantities of Mitchell grass are present in this region, controlled burning could be a useful form of management. A mosaic of patches burnt at different times would reduce the potential for wide-scale wildfires, provide refuge areas for stock and wildlife in the event of wildfire, and promote a wider choice of plant material for grazing animals. However, in dune-systems vegetation, removal of the pasture cover and reduction of the tree and shrub density would constitute an erosion risk.

Shot samples of rabbits were taken every eight weeks for two years at four sites in the Southern Tablelands of New South Wales. Age structure differed between sites. The two sites at which rabbits were controlled by poisoning had the youngest age structures; the site where rabbits were not controlled had the the oldest age structure, the lowest density, the least myxomatosis and the highest production of young per female. The seasonal percentages of males in the samples were inversely proportional to the percentages of lactating females. Rabbits that were recovering from myxomatosis had higher infestations of Graphidium strigosum than rabbits that had active myxomatosis or no symptoms. At one of the sites, rabbits with myxomatosis were shot on every sampling occasion. Differences between sites, in duration and timing of reproduction, were very small compared with differences between rabbit populations from climatically different regions of Australasia; annual production of young per female older than six months varied between sites from 23.7 to 26.5 compared with the range of 15-53 for Australasia. The percentage of pregnant females and fertile males was highest in late spring and fell to zero for 1-2 months in summer. This seasonal pattern of reproduction is intermediate between the pattern found in some high-rainfall Australasian environments, where more than 30% of the females are pregnant in all months, and the patterns in arid, semi-arid and subalpine environments, where no females are pregnant for 3-6 months of the year.

Aspects of the home range and space-use patterns of the common wallaroo or euro (Macropus robustus erubescens) were studied over a three year period in arid New South Wales. Thirty-five adults (19 males and 16 females) were captured and fitted with radio-transmitters and their movements followed. The home ranges of the majority of animals were significantly different from that of a bivariate normal distribution, indicating a heterogeneity of space use. Home ranges were small and essentially stable over time. There were significant differences between the sexes in all parameters of home range measured due to differences in ecological and social requirements. Males had significantly larger weekly home ranges in winter than females (77.2 +/- 47.5 ha and 30.5 +/- 16.5 ha, respectively) but in summer home ranges were similar (30.2 +/- 20.4 ha and 27.6 +/- 15.0 ha). On a yearly basis males ranged over an area approximately three times the size of that used by females. Yearly home-range size in males was positively correlated with body size when conditions were poor.

Yield response data from 92 phosphate/nitrogen field experiments were used to evaluate and calibrate eight soil phosphate tests (Bray1, Bray2, alkaline fluoride, Mehlich, Truog, lactate, Olsen and Colwell) on semi-arid wheat-growing soils of central New South Wales. The effects of some aspects of year-to-year variability in rainfall characteristics on the efficacy and critical values of soil tests were also investigated. The order of efficacy of the soil tests was similar to that on the central western slopes (57 experiments) and northern region (48 experiments) of New South Wales. Lactate was not only the most effective test, but it was the only test that had the same critical value (18 mg kg-1) for the three regions. The actual efficacy of most soil tests in this semi-arid region was lower; apparently because the year-to-year variability in the annual average rainfall was greater than in the other two regions. Some or all of the soil tests were significantly related to yield responsiveness in three of the five individual years (1966-70) of the experimental period. In the other two years, relationships were vitiated by either semi-drought conditions (1967) or late frosts (1969). In 1970, when rainfall conditions were most favourable to yield response, average response curvature was lower and soil test critical values were higher than in the other years.

The physical dimensions and locations of two forms of circular surface-soil features, believed to be constructed by animals now locally extinct, are described for a 200 ha site and its environs in a semi- arid mulga (Acacia mura) woodland in north-western New South Wales. The most common were 48 circular (c. 10 m diameter) features, some with well-defined central depressions carrying vigorous grass tussocks. Soil chemical analysis indicated the relatively high fertility of these central depressions. Surface pebbles were analysed for comparison with similar lithological data in the literature. The evidence suggests that the malleefowl (Leipoa ocerlata) is the most likely agent responsible for building these features. While only four of the larger features (c. 30 m diameter) were located in the study site, they were particularly conspicuous on higher ridges in adjoining paddocks because of the abundance of highly reflective, calcrete fragments visible on the surface of subcircular mounds. It is postulated that they were constructed by the bumowing bettong (Bettongia lesueur).

A general theme in Australian prehistory is the development of the distinctive social, economic and technological systems observed in recent Aboriginal societies. Research has demonstrated significant change in the Australian archaeological sequence and general trends of such are shared by numerous regions. Most that have been investigated indicate low density occupation during the Pleistocene and early Holocene with significant increases in site numbers, increased artefact discard rates and dissemination of new technologies and artefact types in mid-to-late Holocene times (e.g. Lourandos 1985). On the other hand, each region has a unique prehistory, range of material evidence and research potential. Our knowledge of Holocene developments in aboriginal subsistence systems, for instance, is largely based upon the history of cycad exploitation in the central Queensland Highlands (Beaton 1982), the appearance of seed grindstones in arid and semi-arid zones (Smith 1986) and evidence for increased emphasis on small-bodied animals in N.E. New South Wales and S.E. Queensland (McBryde 1977:233; Morwood 1987:347).

Recent erosion in arid regions of western NSW has exposed large areas that are scattered with stone artefacts manufactured by Aboriginal people in prehistory. These exposures offer an opportunity for archaeologists to study the artefacts abandoned by Aboriginal people through time and to compare those artefacts that accumulate in different parts of the landscape. To reconstruct the nature of prehistoric behaviour in the rangelands, two approaches are needed. First, the geomorphological context of the artefacts needs to be considered since exposure of the artefacts is a function of landscape history. Second, large areas (measured in thousands of square metres) and large numbers of artefacts need to be considered if patterns reflecting long-term abandonment behaviour by Aboriginal people are to be identified. This paper reports on the Western New South Wales Archaeological Program (WNSWAP) which was initiated in 1995 to study surface archaeology in the rangelands. Geomorphological studies are combined with artefact analysis using geographic information system software to investigate Aboriginal stone artefact scatters and associated features such as heat retainer hearths, in a landscape context. Results suggest that apparently random scatters of stone artefacts are in fact patterned in ways which inform on prehistoric Aboriginal settlement of the rangelands. Key words: Aboriginal stone artefacts; rangelands; landscape archaeology; geomorphology; GIs

An interview-based questionnaire survey was conducted on 31 goat properties in New South Wales and Queensland in 2013. This study has gathered information on goat herd management, reproductive performance and animal health, and has identified constraints that may limit goat productivity. Producers from high-rainfall regions reported having full blood Boer goats for stud breeding. In contrast, producers from pastoral regions had rangeland goats and Boer-cross goats. Overall, 87% of the producers identified a natural breeding season in goats and 61% separated kids from their mothers at weaning. The weaning age varied between 3.0 and 6.0 months. A total of 52% of producers castrated male kids. Only 10% of producers used ultrasound to conduct pregnancy diagnosis on their goats. The reported pregnancy rate was 60% for the pastoral regions and 94% for the high-rainfall regions. The average prolificacy was 1.4 kids/doe and the kidding interval was 12 months. Overall, 68% of producers fed their goat herd with supplements, with the exception that most producers from western New South Wales and south-western Queensland did not use supplements. Producers considered gastrointestinal parasites (61%) and body lice (48%) as the main diseases associated with their goat herds, although only 52% mentioned drenching the animals with anthelmintics. In general, properties in the pastoral regions showed low pregnancy and kidding rates, early age at first mating, high mortality rates, poor performance of Boer bucks and lower weights and weight gain compared with properties in the high-rainfall regions. The survey has highlighted areas that require further study to validate the observations of producers, for instance, factors that may be limiting the fertility of Boer goats in rangeland environments, the incidence of diseases, the use of Kidplan and management activities to improve goat productivity.

An experiment that held the density of feral pigs constant while varying the effective density of aerially distributed baits was conducted at three sites in north-western New South Wales. Meat baits, containing one of the biomarkers iophenoxic acid, tetracycline or rhodamine B, were distributed at different intensities over each site, and a sample of pigs was shot from a helicopter at each site to determine bait uptake. Serum and tissue samples taken from each pig were analysed for the occurrence of the biomarkers; the proportions of pigs exhibiting biomarkers represented the proportions of the feral pig populations that had consumed baits at different baiting intensities (expressed as baits per unit of pig density). The maximum percentage of sampled pigs that had eaten baits varied from 31% to 72% across the three sites. Bait uptake was regressed against baiting intensity. For two of the trials, the quantity of bait hypothetically required to eliminate a population of feral pigs was extrapolated to be 1577 baits per unit of pig density, while for the third trial 1874 baits per unit of pig density would have been required. Bait-uptake by non-target animals was substantial, posing potential hazards to birds and reducing the availability of baits to feral pigs. Most likely, seasonal conditions affected bait-uptake by feral pigs. We discuss the implications of these results for exotic disease contingency planning.

Following a morphometric and cladistic analysis of the Daviesia ulicifolia Andrews group (Chandler and Crisp 1997), a new species, D. sejugata, is described. It occurs disjunctly in eastern Tasmania and southern Yorke Peninsula, South Australia, and is closely related to D. arthropoda F.Muell., differing in a generally more robust habit, thicker fleshy phyllodes, and larger flowers. Even with this species removed from D. ulicifolia, the latter varies considerably over a wide geographic, edaphic and altitudinal range. Daviesia ulicifolia is divided into six subspecies based on distinct phenetic and phylogenetic groups delimited in the earlier study. These are subsp. aridicola (glaucous plants in arid regions), subsp. incarnata (reddish-flowered plants in the Mt Lofty Range, South Australia), subsp. ruscifolia (plants with ovate-acuminate leaves and orange flowers in Victoria and southern New South Wales (NSW), often at high altitude), subsp. stenophylla (a narrow-leaved form in northern NSW and Queensland), subsp. pilligensis (ovate-leaved plants on sandy soil in western NSW), and subsp. ulicifolia (a paraphyletic residual from south-eastern states).

Context The impacts of climate change on the climate envelopes, and hence, distributions of species, are of ongoing concern for biodiversity worldwide. Knowing where climate refuge habitats will occur in the future is essential to conservation planning. The koala (Phascolarctos cinereus) is recognised by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) as a species highly vulnerable to climate change. However, the impact of climate change on its distribution is poorly understood. Aims We aimed to predict the likely shifts in the climate envelope of the koala throughout its natural distribution under various climate change scenarios and identify potential future climate refugia. Methods To predict possible future koala climate envelopes we developed bioclimatic models using Maxent, based on a substantial database of locality records and several climate change scenarios. Key results The predicted current koala climate envelope was concentrated in south-east Queensland, eastern New South Wales and eastern Victoria, which generally showed congruency with their current known distribution. Under realistic projected future climate change, with the climate becoming increasingly drier and warmer, the models showed a significant progressive eastward and southward contraction in the koala’s climate envelope limit in Queensland, New South Wales and Victoria. The models also indicated novel potentially suitable climate habitat in Tasmania and south-western Australia. Conclusions Under a future hotter and drier climate, current koala distributions, based on their climate envelope, will likely contract eastwards and southwards to many regions where koala populations are declining due to additional threats of high human population densities and ongoing pressures from habitat loss, dog attacks and vehicle collisions. In arid and semi-arid regions such as the Mulgalands of south-western Queensland, climate change is likely to compound the impacts of habitat loss, resulting in significant contractions in the distribution of this species. Implications Climate change pressures will likely change priorities for allocating conservation efforts for many species. Conservation planning needs to identify areas that will provide climatically suitable habitat for a species in a changing climate. In the case of the koala, inland habitats are likely to become climatically unsuitable, increasing the need to protect and restore the more mesic habitats, which are under threat from urbanisation. National and regional koala conservation policies need to anticipate these changes and synergistic threats. Therefore, a proactive approach to conservation planning is necessary to protect the koala and other species that depend on eucalypt forests.

A total of 2071 individual prey items were identified from 34 active and 55 inactive wedge-tailed eagle nests following the 1995, 1996 and 1997 breeding seasons. Overall, the eagle's diet was comparable to that reported in other studies within semi-arid regions, with rabbits, reptiles and macropods accounting for 47.8, 22.6 and 13.7% of prey items, respectively. In spring 1996 rabbit calicivirus moved into the study area, resulting in a 44-78% reduction in rabbit abundance (Sharp et al. 2001). An index was developed to enable the time since death for individual prey items to be approximated and a historical perspective of the eagle's diet to be constructed. Rabbits constituted 56-69% of dietary items collected during the pre-rabbit calicivirus disease (RCD) samples, but declined to 31% and 16% in the two post-RCD samples. A reciprocal trend was observed for the proportion of reptiles in the diet, which increased from 8-21% of pre-RCD dietary items to 49-54% after the advent of RCD. Similarly, the proportion of avian prey items was observed to increase in the post-RCD samples. These data suggested that prey switching may have occurred following the RCD epizootic. However, a lack of data on the relative abundances of reptiles and birds prevented an understanding of the eagle's functional responses to be developed and definitive conclusions to be drawn. Nevertheless, the eagles were observed to modify their diet to the change in rabbit densities by consuming larger quantities of native prey species.

Patterns in the distribution of Australasian species of freshwater aquatic plants were sought, to determine whether vicariance, distance dispersal, local speciation, or a mixture of these could best explain the distribution. The distribution was recorded from 10 regions of Australasia that include sizeable areas of wetland: Papua New Guinea, Cape York Peninsula, south-east Queensland, eastern New South Wales, Victoria, Tasmania, New Zealand, northern Northern Territory, the Kimberley, and south-west Western Australia. Matrices of 553 species by 10 regions, 139 genera by 10 regions, and 56 families by 10 regions were analysed using hierarchical fusion, nearest neighbour and ordination techniques. The results indicate that there are two distinct elements in the aquatic flora, tropical and temperate. The diffuse boundary between these two climatic zones could be interpreted as a barrier in the sense used in definitions of vicariance. There is little effective spread between tropical and temperate areas but, within each of these climatic zones, the species are mobile and many spread reasonably readily between regions, provided suitable habitats and dispersal opportunities are available. Where geographic barriers to distance dispersal have been great then these may become as important as the climatic barrier. This is demonstrated, at least in part, by the differences between some of the generic and species dendrograms. Local speciation (not shown by our PATN analyses because of the endemic species being ignored in them) has been important where some primarily aquatic genera have proliferated when conditions have been suitable. Local speciation has occurred in cosmopolitan aquatic genera that have presumably arrived in regions via long distance dispersal. The significance of bird migration and dispersal patterns are discussed. The aquatic flora of the monsoon tropics has evolved mainly from long distance dispersal but with significant local speciation in some genera such as Nymphoides, Utricularia, Nymphaea and Vallisneria. The pattern of distribution was compared with those recorded from other ecologically defined groups such as the Australian arid and alpine floras.

The utilization of forage species by sheep and western grey kangaroos, and their contribution to the diets of those animals, were determined in a mulga (Acacia aneura) woodland in western New South Wales. Utilization was determined from measurements of forage yield, on pastures that were grazed by either sheep, sheep and kangaroos together or kangaroos, at a range of stocking rates. The sheep and kangaroos had similar preferences for the major grasses, with high utilization of species such as Monachather paradoxa and low utilization of the more fibrous species such as Eragrostis eriopoda. At times of forage abundance, annual and perennial forbs were a major component of sheep diet but a relatively minor component of kangaroo diet. Differences in species preference thus arose mainly in species that were uncommon or of seasonal occurrence. The overall diets of sheep and kangaroos were similar, with a year-round predominance of the same group of perennial grasses such as Thyridolepis mitchelliana. In the treatment where sheep and kangaroos grazed together, kangaroos had access to areas exclosed from sheep and their use of these areas increased with increase in stocking rate. Thus the exclosures received a similar grazing pressure by kangaroos alone, to that of the surrounding paddocks grazed by a mixture of sheep and kangaroos. It is concluded that there is direct competition between sheep and kangaroos for the main forage species. There are also long-term effects of high kangaroo populations on sheep production because the movement of kangaroos to rested paddocks negates any pasture management practice that requires periodic resting of pastures from grazing.

The distribution and prevalence of strains of Mycobacterium avium subsp. paratuberculosis were determined among sheep, cattle, and other species with Johne's disease in Australia. A total of 328 isolates were evaluated from numerous farms in New South Wales, Victoria, Tasmania, and South Australia, Australia. Restriction fragment length polymorphism (RFLP) analysis of genomic DNA usingBstEII and an IS900 probe and IS1311 polymorphism analysis using PCR and restriction endonuclease analysis (PCR-REA) was used to classify isolates as cattle (C) or sheep (S) strains. IS1311 PCR-REA provided similar information to IS900 RFLP analysis but was more useful than RFLP analysis where DNA was degraded or scarce. Twelve IS900 RFLP types were found. Johne's disease in sheep was always due to S strains, while cattle were infected only with C strains. RFLP type S1 was the dominant strain in sheep in New South Wales (97% of isolates) and was the only strain found in sheep from Victoria. Seven RFLP types were present in cattle. RFLP types C3 and C1 were most common (collectively, 85% of isolates), but C1 was not found in New South Wales and C3 was present in dairy cattle but not in beef cattle in Victoria. These differences may be explained by restricted livestock trading patterns between different segments of the cattle industry. Up to five RFLP types were present in some geographic regions in Victoria, while up to three RFLP types were found among cattle on some farms. Individual cattle usually were infected with only one RFLP type, but one animal was infected with both C5 and CU4. Two isolates from goats were C type as were three from alpacas, one from a rhinoceros, and two from a human with Crohn's disease. The prevalences of specific RFLP types in Australia differ from those reported in Europe and elsewhere. Given the existence of geographical and farm enterprise differences in IS900 RFLP type, this technique may be applied selectively to trace the spread of Johne's disease, at least in the cattle industries. As these observations reflect past exposure of livestock to M. avium subsp.paratuberculosis, the monitoring of strains present in animals in Australia is continuing.

A morphological study of herbarium and field-collected specimens, using phenetic techniques of agglomerative classification, ordination and minimum spanning trees, and covering the geographic range of the Holly Grevillea, G.�ilicifolia (R.Br.) R.Br. sensu lato, has resulted in the recognition of three species and four subspecies. The taxa are based on leaf form, noted by previous authors to be highly variable between populations. The taxa recognised here are G.�ilicifolia, G.�ilicifolia subsp. ilicifolia (typical, kite-shaped leaf form), G.�ilicifolia subsp. lobata (F.Muell.) T.L.Downing comb. et stat. nov. (oak-shaped leaf form), G.�dilatata (R.Br.) T.L.Downing comb. et stat. nov. (fan-shaped leaf form), G.�angustiloba (F.Muell.) T.L.Downing comb. et stat. nov., G.�angustiloba subsp. angustiloba (narrow-lobed leaf form) and G.�angustiloba subsp. wirregaensis T.L.Downing subsp. nov. (very narrow-lobed leaf form). The rank of subspecies is used where there are some intermediate plants between forms. Grevillea ilicifolia subsp. ilicifolia is the most widespread taxon and occurs in South Australia, western Victoria and in two localities in New South Wales. Grevillea angustiloba subsp. wirregaensis has the most restricted range, occurring in semi-arid regions near Wirrega in South Australia. Grevillea dilatata is largely endemic to Kangaroo Island, South Australia.

One of the largest known populations of the threatened squirrel glider occurs in the Wyong and Lake Macquarie regions of the New South Wales central coast. A study of the habitat requirements and density of this population was undertaken as a component in a broader study to develop a regional conservation strategy for the species. The squirrel glider was found to be widespread at an estimated average density of 0.39 animals ha–1. It was most abundant in forests and woodlands with an overstorey of winter-flowering eucalypts (Corymbia maculata, Eucalyptus robusta, Eucalyptus tereticornis) or an understorey of winter-flowering banksias (Banksia spinulosa) or pinnate-leaved acacias (Acacia irrorata). The highest estimated density (0.7 ha–1) occurred in associations of scribbly gum (Eucalyptus haemastoma or racemosa), smooth-barked apple (Angophora costata) and red bloodwood (Corymbia gummifera) with an understorey of Banksia spp and Xanthorrhoea spp. The lowest estimated densities occurred in forests with an understorey dominated by casuarinas or non-pinnate acacias and in stunted, low (<17 m high) forest and woodland close to the coast. The abundance of all possums and gliders increased significantly with canopy height, canopy cover, the number of mature and old-growth trees and the number of trees with hollows. Preferred habitat of the squirrel glider in this region occurs predominantly on freehold land where it is threatened by clearing for coastal development. Implementation of planning provisions to protect squirrel glider habitat on private land will be necessary to maintain the existing regional population.

Geographical variation in the accuracy of different indirect degree-day (IDD) models may result in significant error in the estimation of developmental events in organisms whose development is temperature dependent. This study compared IDDs based on the rectangle, triangle and sine wave models to direct degree-day (DDD) estimates at 20 sites in New South Wales. The value of geographical bias correction procedures for improving the accuracy of IDDs were also examined. Temperatures were recorded at hourly or shorter intervals over periods from 6 months to 4 years depending on the site. IDDs and DDDs were calculated using 7 lower developmental thresholds between 10 and 13�C. Geographical bias correction procedures were applied at 2 resolutions: local (using data from single sites, and regional (pooling data from sites having similar climatic features). Correction equations were obtained by regressing daily IDDs on daily DDDs. Independent data were used to assess the performance of these equations at improving IDDs. Models did not perform equally well throughout the state. The triangle model performed best at sites in the east and south of the state, however, it was often inaccurate. The sine wave and rectangle models performed best at sites in the west. Discriminant analysis identified average annual rainfall, average daily January relative humidity and average daily July cloud cover as the most efficient subset of climatic variables needed to correctly classify all but 1 site on the basis of model performance. Model performance was thus dependent on atmospheric moisture indices. Local bias correction greatly improved the accuracy of IDDs at sites with humid climates but were superfluous at semi-arid sites. Within most climatically defined regions there were significant differences in the correction equations used at different sites. At some sites there were also differences between years. However, the impact of within-site variability of corrected IDDs from year to year on accumulated estimates was reduced to within acceptable limits (i.e. errors <7 days) by increasing the amount of data used to generate the equations. Regional bias correction equations gave improved IDDs but the improvement achieved was not as good as that with local correction. Model selection as a source of error in IDDs, the consequences of selecting a model for its accuracy at estimating degree-days or its precision at predicting developmental events, and the benefits and limitations of geographical bias correction are discussed.

The sodium, potassium and osmotic concentrations of blood and urine, and serum protein and PCV of the blood were examined in rabbits living in stony-hill habitat and sand-dune habitat in the arid zone of far western New South Wales. Samples were collected in dry summer, dry winter, wet summer and wet winter seasons. Rabbits from the same region were brought into the laboratory and fed dry lucerne chaff with ad libitum or restricted water, or 5-10% salt-enriched chaff with ad libitum or restricted water, and their blood and urine parameters measured. Rabbits became acclimated to water shortage (restriction to 50% of total food and water intake) over a 50-day period. Similar restriction of water with the salt-enriched diet caused reduction of food intake to starvation level; the maximum mean sodium concentration in the urine of these rabbits was 476 mmoll-1. Habitat did not influence the degree of dehydration of field animals; the effect of season was marked, resulting in a range in mean plasma osaotic pressure between cold wet and hot dry seasons of 260-326 mosmoll-l. Generally urine concentrations were high under hot and/or dry seasons (maximum mean total oxmotic pressure 2719 mosmoll-1 and low only in the cold wet season (minimum mean total osmotic pressure 5 13 mosmol l-1). Inability to produce urine with a high osmotic concentration or high sodium content compared with rodents endemic to arid areas suggests that plasticity in behaviour towards minimizing water losses, and high grazing selectivity maximizing intake of food with a high water content and without a high salt load, enable rabbits to survive in arid habitats often devoid of free water for long periods.

A study was made over a period of 12 years of the natural regeneration of vegetation along a corridor corridor cleared for the construction of a natural gas pipeline in a semi-arid woodland in central- western New South Wales. Total cover, proportion of grasses, and species composition were assessed on the infilled trench and on areas from which topsoil had been bladed, as well as on adjacent undisturbed areas and areas burned by a wildfire. All areas were grazed continuously by sheep under normal station management, and by native animals. After four years of about average rainfall, total cover on disturbed areas had regained levels as high or higher than on adjacent areas, and was maintained thereafter. On many individual sites this period was as short as eighteen months. The proportion of grasses remained much lower on disturbed areas, except for some periods of annual grass dominance. Species composition remained very different between disturbed and undisturbed areas, the main difference being in perennial species. However, composition also varied markedly between years, according to rainfall seasonality and competition from previously established plants. Little difference was apparent between undisturbed areas and similar areas which had burned twelve months before the first measurements. Mechanical disturbance caused by trenching and blading had a much greater effect on vegetation than did fire, and the effects were still obvious after twelve years.

Pimelea poisoning in grazing cattle, also known as St George or Marree Disease, has been a long-time pestilence for the pastoral industry throughout arid regions of inland Australia. The causative species Pimelea (Thymelaeaceae), native to Queensland, New South Wales and South Australia, have been confirmed, with the secondary metabolite simplexin, a daphnane orthoester, being extracted and identified as the principal toxin. Despite the lack of effective prevention or treatment for Pimelea poisoning, naïve calves have previously been demonstrated to develop detoxification capability following prolonged low-dose simplexin intake. A variety of composites are being fabricated by encapsulating Pimelea plant material or a crude extract in biodegradable and biocompatible polyesters, aiming to develop a sustained toxin release mechanism. Studies on screening potential rumen microflora able to decompose simplexin during rumen-fluid fermentation are being conducted simultaneously. In this project, a quantification method for simplexin within these biocomposites was developed and validated utilising solid-phase extraction combined with UHPLC-Q-Orbitrap MS/MS. Reliable simplexin measurement in matrices will allow investigations into the material composition, geometry and rumen microorganism’s effects on the controlled release kinetics of simplexin in vitro. The degradation patterns of toxin delivery systems when exposed to simulated rumen environments will also be thoroughly assessed on both microscopic and chemical scales. Mathematical models of the underlying mass transport mechanisms will ultimately be established through approaches ranging from simple empirical correlations to stochastic simulations, which hold the potential to facilitate future design, optimisation, and prediction of other intra-ruminal devices based on biodegradable polymers.

Three forbs of contrasting abundance were compared with the aim of identifying ecological traits that may be associated with differences in abundance in Australia. Hypochoeris radicata (an extremely common, exotic species), Cymbonotus lawsonianus (rare in some regions, moderately common in others) and Microseris lanceolata (once widespread but which has dramatically declined) are all species of grasslands and grassy woodlands. Habitat details and phenological observations are reported from the New England Tablelands, New South Wales where the three species co-occur. This information is synthesized with that available in the literature. Part of the success of H. radicata relates to its broad environmental tolerance. Although C. lawsonianus and M. lanceolata are both widely distributed in Australia, the range of habitats in which they occur is more limited. The depletion of M. lanceolata populations is largely attributed to a vulnerability to domestic grazing animals that may be linked to its palatability and architecture. The more common C. lawsonianus and H. radicata appear more tolerant of grazing and mowing and may be advantaged by their ability to form flat rosettes. Despite its occurrence at sites with soil disturbance, C. lawsonianus is still rare in comparison with H. radicata. It may be restricted by a lack of phenotypic plasticity that prevents plants adopting an erect leaf position under more competitive situations. A number of rare native herbs appear to be disturbance-dependent, and it is suggested that C. lawsonianus may share with them highly specific ecological requirements that make both undisturbed and human-disturbed sites sub-optimal for their persistence.

Navua sedge (Cyperus aromaticus (Ridley) Mattf. & Kukenth) is an invasive perennial sedge, native to tropical Africa, which is threatening many natural ecosystems and agroecosystems, especially in northern Queensland, Australia. Crop and pasture production have been impacted by Navua sedge and it is also directly causing reductions in dairy and beef production in affected regions. This review documents the biology, ecology and potential management options to minimise the spread and impact of Navua sedge. The weed reproduces both sexually (seeds) and vegetatively (via underground rhizomes). Its tiny seeds can be spread easily via wind, water, vehicles, farm machinery and animals, whilst the rhizomes assist with establishment of dense stands. The CLIMEX model (which uses distribution and climate data in native and novel ranges) indicates that in Australia, Navua sedge has the potential to spread further within Queensland and into the Northern Territory, New South Wales and Victoria. Several management strategies, including mechanical, chemical and agronomic methods, and their integration will have to be used to minimise agricultural production losses caused by Navua sedge, but most of these methods are currently either ineffective or uneconomical when used alone. Other management approaches, including biological control and mycoherbicides, are currently being explored. We conclude that a better understanding of the interaction of its physiological processes, ecological patterns and genetic diversity across a range of conditions found in the invaded and native habitats will help to contribute to and provide more effective integrated management approaches for Navua sedge.

This review examines the status of temperate-zone freshwater wetlands and makes projections of how changes over the 2025 time horizon might affect their biodiversity. The six geographic regions addressed are temperate areas of North America, South America, northern Europe, northern Mediterranean, temperate Russia, Mongolia, north-east China, Korea and Japan, and southern Australia and New Zealand. Information from the recent technical literature, general accounts in books, and some first-hand experience provided the basis for describing major wetland types, their status and major threats. Loss of biodiversity is a consequence both of a reduction in area and deterioration in condition. The information base for either change is highly variable geographically. Many countries lack accurate inventories, and for those with inventories, classifications differ, thus making comparisons difficult. Factors responsible for losses and degradation include diversions and damming of river flows, disconnecting floodplain wetlands from flood flows, eutrophication, contamination, grazing, harvests of plants and animals, global warming, invasions of exotics, and the practices of filling, dyking and draining. In humid regions, drainage of depressions and flats has eliminated large areas of wetlands. In arid regions, irrigated agriculture directly competes with wetlands for water. Eutrophication is widespread, which, together with effects of invasive species, reduces biotic complexity. In northern Europe and the northern Mediterranean, losses have been ongoing for hundreds of years, while losses in North America accelerated during the 1950s through to the 1970s. In contrast, areas such as China appear to be on the cusp of expanding drainage projects and building impoundments that will eliminate and degrade freshwater wetlands. Generalizations and trends gleaned from this paper should be considered only as a starting point for developing world-scale data sets. One trend is that the more industrialized countries are likely to conserve their already impacted, remaining wetlands, while nations with less industrialization are now experiencing accelerated losses, and may continue to do so for the next several decades. Another observation is that countries with both protection and restoration programmes do not necessarily enjoy a net increase in area and improvement in condition. Consequently, both reductions in the rates of wetland loss and increases in the rates of restoration are needed in tandem to achieve overall improvements in wetland area and condition.

Context. Mammal populations around the world are increasingly threatened with population fragmentation because of loss of habitat or barriers to gene flow. The investigation of koala populations in the Sydney region not only provides valuable information about this vulnerable species, but also serves as a model for other species that have suffered major rapid declines in population size, and are now recovering in fragmented habitat. The peri-urban study region allows investigation of the impact of landscape features such as major roads and housing developments on koala gene flow. Aims. Animals originating from four geographic sampling areas around Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, were examined to determine population structure and gene flow and to identify barriers to gene flow and management units. Methods. The present study examined 12 microsatellite loci and used Bayesian assignment methods and genic frequency analysis methods to identify demographically separate populations and barriers to gene flow between those populations. Key results. Three discrete populations were resolved, with all displaying moderate to high levels of genetic differentiation among them (θ = 0.141–0.224). The allelic richness and heterozygosity of the Blue Mountains population (A = 6.46, HO = 0.66) is comparable to the highest diversity found in any koala population previously investigated. However, considerably lower genetic diversity was found in the Campbelltown population (A = 3.17, HO = 0.49), which also displayed evidence of a recent population bottleneck (effective population size estimated at 16–21). Conclusions. Animals separated by a military reserve were identified as one population, suggesting that the reserve maintains gene flow within this population. By contrast, strong differentiation of two geographically close populations separated by several potential barriers to gene flow suggested these land-use features pose barriers to gene flow. Implications. Implications of these findings for management of koala populations in the Greater Sydney region are discussed. In particular, the need to carefully consider the future of a military reserve is highlighted, along with possible solutions to allow gene flow across the proposed barrier regions. Because these are demographically separate populations, specific management plans tailored to the needs of each population will need to be formulated.

The genus Hemidactylus is one of the most species-rich and widely distributed of all reptile genera, being found in thetropical and subtropical regions of the world and hundreds of continental and oceanic islands. Despite having already 111species, the number of species described in recent years is very high. This has been facilitated, in part, by the use ofmolecular techniques, which in most cases have been employed to confirm the differentiation at the DNA level of somemorphologically variable forms and to discover some cryptic lineages.Preliminary analyses indicate that some Hemidactylus species from Oman are quite variable in their morphologyand may include more than one species. In order to test this hypothesis we inferred a molecular phylogeny including 131Hemidactylus (20 species) using 1385 base pairs of mitochondrial DNA (353 bp 12S; 302 bp cytb; 588 bp nd4 and 142bp tRNAs) and 1481 bp of nuclear DNA (403 bp c-mos; 668 bp mc1r and 410 bp rag2) and analyzed 226 specimens (15species) for several meristic and pholidotic characters of which we took 3103 photographs that have been deposited inMorphoBank (project 483). Our results indicate the presence of eight new species of Hemidactylus geckos in Arabia: H.luqueorum sp. nov. and H. hajarensis sp. nov. from North Oman; H. masirahensis sp. nov. from Masirah Island; H.inexpectatus sp. nov. from one locality on coastal Central Oman; H. alkiyumii sp. nov., H. festivus sp. nov. and H.paucituberculatus sp. nov. from Dhofar, Southern Oman; and finally H. endophis sp. nov. probably from North Omanand described on the basis of morphology alone. An identification key to the genus Hemidactylus from Oman is alsopresented. With these descriptions, the number of Hemidactylus species found in Oman increases from 7 to 13 and thenumber of endemic Hemidactylus from 0 to 6. The description of three new species endemic to the Hajar Mountains inNorth Oman highlights the importance of this mountain range as a biodiversity hotspot that, up to now, includes 12reptile species that are found nowhere else in the World. Another hotspot of Hemidactylus biodiversity is the DhofarMountain range, in the extreme Southwestern corner of Oman and East Yemen. As a result of its particular geographicsituation, orography and the effect of the Southwest Monsoons, this mountain range presents a diverse variety of habitatswith different species of Hemidactylus adapted to them.With the exception of H. flaviviridis and H. leschenaultii, which belong to the Tropical Asian clade of Hemidactylus,all Arabian Hemidactylus for which DNA sequence is available are members of the Arid clade of Hemidactylus.Relatively recent dispersal appears to have taken place within Arabia in the H. turcicus group, with the South Arabian H.lemurinus occurring far from other confirmed members of this assemblage. Hemidactylus flaviviridis and a clade of H. robustus are genetically uniform, widespread in Arabia and beyond and occur around human habitations, suggesting thatmuch of their large distributions are anthropogenic, as appears to be so in several other Hemidactylus species outsideArabia.The way in which species of Arabian Hemidactylus separate ecologically is surprisingly varied. They may occur atsimilar altitudes but replace each other geographically, or if they are sympatric there may be altitudinal separation.Humidity may also be an important factor, and when animals exist within a few meters of each other, structural nichemay be significant. While four native species occur close together in Dhofar, most Hemidactylus communities in Arabiaconsist of only one or two species, although climbing geckos belonging to other genera, such as Asaccus and Ptyodactylus, may also be present.‫غ‬

Wildlife, and birds in particular, play an increasingly recognized role in the evolution and transmission of Escherichia coli that pose a threat to humans. To characterize these lineages and their potential threat from an evolutionary perspective, we isolated and performed whole-genome sequencing on 11 sequence types (STs) of E. coli recovered from the desiccated faeces of straw-necked ibis (Threskiornis spinicollis) nesting on inland wetlands located in geographically different regions of New South Wales, Australia. Carriage of virulence-associated genes was limited, and no antimicrobial resistance genes were detected, but novel variants of an insertion element that plays an important role in capturing and mobilizing antibiotic resistance genes, IS26, were identified and characterized. The isolates belonged to phylogroups B1 and D, including types known to cause disease in humans and animals. Specifically, we found E. coli ST58, ST69, ST162, ST212, ST446, ST906, ST2520, ST6096 and ST6241, and a novel phylogroup D strain, ST10208. Notably, the ST58 strain hosted significant virulence gene carriage. The sequences of two plasmids hosting putative virulence-associated factors with incompatibility groups I1 and Y, an extrachromosomal integrative/conjugative element, and a variant of a large Escherichia phage of the family Myoviridae, were additionally characterized. We identified multiple epidemiologically relevant gene signatures that link the ibis isolates to sequences from international sources, plus novel variants of IS26 across different sequence types and in different contexts.

Wandering the aisles of my local Woolworths in April this year, I noticed a large number of chocolate bilbies replacing chocolate rabbits. In these harsh economic times it seems that even the Easter bunny is in danger of losing his Easter job. While the changing shape of Easter chocolate may seem to be a harmless affair, the expulsion of the rabbit from Easter celebrations has a darker side. In this paper I look at the campaign to replace the Easter bunny with the Easter bilby, and the implications this mediated conservation move has for living rabbits in the Australian ecosystem. Essential to this discussion is the premise that studies of ecology must take into account the impact of media and culture on environmental issues. Of particular interest is the role of narrative, and the way the stories we tell about rabbits determine how they are treated in real life. While I recognise that the Australian bilby’s struggle for survival is a tale which should be told, I also argue that the vilification of the European-Australian rabbit is part of the native/invasive dualism which has ceased to be helpful, and has instead become a motivator of unproductive violence. In place of this simplified dichotomous narrative, I propose an ethic of "ecological remembrance" to combat the totalising eradication of the European rabbit from the Australian environment and culture. The Bilby vs the Bunny: A Case Study in "Media Selection" Easter Bunny says, ‘Bilby, I want you to have my job.You know about sharing and taking care.I think Australia should have an Easter Bilby.We rabbits have become too greedy and careless.Rabbits must learn from bilbies and other bush creatures’. The lines above are taken from Ali Garnett and Kaye Kessing’s children’s story, Easter Bilby, co-published by the Australian Anti-Rabbit Research Foundation as part of the campaign to replace the Easter bunny with the eco-politically correct Easter bilby. The first chocolate bilbies were made in 1982, but the concept really took off when major chocolate retailer Darrell Lea became involved in 2002. Since this time Haigh’s chocolate, Cadbury, and Pink Lady have also released delicious cocoa natives for consumption, and both Darrell Lea and Haigh’s use their profits to support bilby assistance programs, creating the “pleasant Easter sensation” that “eating a chocolate bilby is helping save the real thing” (Phillips). The Easter bilby campaign is a highly mediated approach to conservation which demonstrates the new biological principle Phil Bagust has recognised as “media selection.” Bagust observes that in our “hybridised global society” it is impossible to separate “the world of genetic selection from the world of human symbolic and material diversity as if they exist in different universes” (8). The Australian rabbit thrives in “natural selection,” having adapted to the Australian environment so successfully it threatens native species and the economic productivity of farmers. But the rabbit loses out in “cultural selection” where it is vilified in the media for its role in environmental degradation. The campaign to conserve the bilby depends, in a large part, on the rabbit’s failures in “media selection”. On Good Friday 2012 Sky News Australia quoted Mike Drinkwater of Wild Life Sydney’s support of the Easter bilby campaign: Look, the reason that we want to highlight the bilby as an iconic Easter animal is, number one, rabbits are a pest in Australia. Secondly, the bilby has these lovely endearing rabbit-like qualities. And thirdly, the bilby is a beautiful, iconic, native animal that is struggling. It is endangered so it’s important that we do all we can to support that. Drinkwater’s appeal to the bilby’s “endearing rabbit-like qualities” demonstrates that it is not the Australian rabbit’s individual embodiment which detracts from its charisma in Australian society. In this paper I will argue that the stories we tell about the European-Australian rabbit’s alienation from Indigenous country diminish the species cultural appeal. These stories are told with passionate conviction to save and protect native flora and fauna, but, too often, this promotion of the native relies on the devaluation of non-native life, to the point where individual rabbits are no longer morally considerable. Such a hierarchical approach to conservation is not only ethically problematic, but can also be ineffective because the native/invasive approach to ecology is overly simplistic. A History of Rabbit Stories In the Easter Bilby children’s book the illustrated rabbit offers to make itself disappear from the “Easter job.” The reason for this act of self-destruction is a despairing recognition of its “greedy and careless” nature, and at the same time, its selfless offer to be replaced by the ecologically conscious Bilby. In this sacrificial gesture is the implicit offering of all rabbit life for the salvation of native ecosystems and animal life. This plot line slots into a much larger series of stories we have been telling about the Australian environment. Libby Robin has observed that settler Australians have always had a love-hate relationship with the native flora and fauna of the continent (6), either devaluing native plants, animals, and ecosystems, or launching into an “overcompensating patriotic strut about the Australian biota” (Robin 9). The colonising dynamic of early Australian society was built on the devaluation of animals such as the bilby. This was reflected in the introduction of feral animals by “acclimatisation societies” and the privileging of “pets” such as cats and dogs over native animals (Plumwood). Alfred Crosby has made the persuasive argument that the invasion of Australia, and other “neo-European” countries, was, necessarily, more-than-human. In his work, Ecological Imperialism, Crosby charts the historical partnership between human European colonisers in Indigenous lands and the “grunting, lowing, neighing, crowing, chirping, snarling, buzzing, self-replicating and world-altering avalanche” (194) of introduced life that they brought with them. In response to this “guilt by association” Australians have reversed the values in the dichotomous colonial dynamic to devalue the introduced and so “empower” the colonised native. In this new “anti-colonial” story, rabbits signify a wound of colonisation which has spread across and infected indigenous country. J. M. Arthur’s (130) analysis of language in relation to colonisation highlights some of the important lexical characteristics in the rabbit stories we now tell. He observes that the rabbits’ impact on the county is described using a vocabulary of contamination: “It is a ‘menace’, a ‘problem’, an ‘infestation’, a ‘nuisance’, a ‘plague’” (170). This narrative of disease encourages a redemptive violence against living rabbits to “cure” the rabbit problem in order to atone for human mistakes in a colonial past. Redemptive Violence in Action Rabbits in Australia have been subject to a wide range of eradication measures over the past century including shooting, the destruction of burrows, poisoning, ferreting, trapping, and the well-known rabbit proof fence in Western Australia. Particularly noteworthy in this slaughter has been the introduction of biological control measures with the release of the savage and painful disease Myxomatosis in late December 1950, followed by the release of the Calicivirus (Rabbit Haemorrhage Disease, or RHD) in 1996. As recently as March 2012 the New South Wales Department of Primary Industries announced a 1.5 million dollar program called “RHD Boost” which is attempting to develop a more effective biological control agent for rabbits who have become immune to the Calicivirus. In this perverse narrative, disease becomes a cure for the rabbit’s contamination of Australian environments. Calicivirus is highly infectious, spreads rapidly, and kills rabbits en masse. Following the release of Calicivirus in 1995 it killed 10 million rabbits in eight weeks (Ponsonby Veterinary Centre). While Calicivirus appears to be more humane than the earlier biological control, Myxomatosis, there are indications that it causes rabbits pain and stress. Victims are described as becoming very quiet, refusing to eat, straining for breath, losing coordination, becoming feverish, and excreting bloody nasal discharge (Heishman, 2011). Post-mortem dissection generally reveals a “pale and mottled liver, many small streaks or blotches on the lungs and an enlarged spleen... small thrombi or blood clots” (Coman 173). Public criticism of the cruel methods involved in killing rabbits is often assuaged with appeals to the greater good of the ecosystem. The Anti-Rabbit research foundation state on their Website, Rabbit-Free Australia, that: though killing rabbits may sound inhumane, wild rabbits are affecting the survival of native Australian plants and animals. It is our responsibility to control them. We brought the European rabbit here in the first place — they are an invasive pest. This assumption of personal and communal responsibility for the rabbit “problem” has a fundamental blind-spot. Arthur (130) observes that the progress of rabbits across the continent is often described as though they form a coordinated army: The rabbit extends its ‘dominion’, ‘dispossesses’ the indigenous bilby, causes sheep runs to be ‘abandoned’ and country ‘forfeited’, leaving the land in ‘ecological tatters’. While this language of battle pervades rabbit stories, humans rarely refer to themselves as invaders into Aboriginal lands. Arthur notes that, by taking responsibility for the rabbit’s introduction and eradication, the coloniser assumes an indigenous status as they defend the country against the exotic invader (134). The apprehension of moral responsibility can, in this sense, be understood as the assumption of settler indigeneity. This does not negate the fact that assuming human responsibility for the native environment can be an act of genuine care. In a country scarred by a history of ecocide, movements like the Easter Bilby campaign seek to rectify the negligent mistakes of the past. The problem is that reactive responses to the colonial devaluation of native life can be unproductive because they preserve the basic structure of the native/invasive dichotomy by simplistically reversing its values, and fail to respond to more complex ecological contexts and requirements (Plumwood). This is also socially problematic because the native/invasive divide of nonhuman life overlays more complex human politics of colonisation in Australia. The Native/Invasive Dualism The bilby is currently listed as an “endangered” species in Queensland and as “vulnerable” nationally. Bilbies once inhabited 70% of the Australian landscape, but now inhabit less than 15% of the country (Save the Bilby Fund). This dramatic reduction in bilby numbers has multiple causes, but the European rabbit has played a significant role in threatening the bilby species by competing for burrows and food. Other threats come from the predation of introduced species, such as feral cats and foxes, and the impact of farmed introduced species, such as sheep and cattle, which also destroy bilby habitats. Because the rabbit directly competes with the bilby for food and shelter in the Australian environment, the bilby can be classed as the underdog native, appealing to that larger Australian story about “the fair go”. It seems that the Easter bilby campaign is intended to level out the threat posed by the highly successful and adaptive rabbit through promoting the bilby in the “cultural selection” stakes. This involves encouraging bilby-love, while actively discouraging love and care for the introduced rabbits which threaten the bilby’s survival. On the Rabbit Free Australia Website, the campaign rationale to replace the Easter bunny with the Easter bilby claims that: Very young children are indoctrinated with the concept that bunnies are nice soft fluffy creatures whereas in reality they are Australia’s greatest environmental feral pest and cause enormous damage to the arid zone. In this statement the lived corporeal presence of individual rabbits is denied as the “soft, fluffy” body disappears behind the environmentally problematic species’ behaviour. The assertion that children are “indoctrinated” to find rabbits love-able, and that this conflicts with the “reality” of the rabbit as environmentally destructive, denies the complexity of the living animal and the multiple possible responses to it. That children find rabbits “fluffy” is not the result of pro-rabbit propaganda, but because rabbits are fluffy! That Rabbit Free Australia could construe this to be some kind of elaborate falsehood demonstrates the disappearance of the individual rabbit in the native/invasive tale of colonisation. Rabbit-Free Australia seeks to eradicate the animal not only from Australian ecosystems, but from the hearts and minds of children who are told to replace the rabbit with the more fitting native bilby. There is no acceptance here of the rabbit as a complex animal that evokes ambivalent responses, being both worthy of moral consideration, care and love, and also an introduced and environmentally destructive species. The native/invasive dualism is a subject of sustained critique in environmental philosophy because it depends on a disjunctive temporal division drawn at the point of European settlement—1788. Environmental philosopher Thom van Dooren points out that the divide between animals who belong and animals who should be eradicated is “fundamentally premised on the reification of a specific historical moment that ignores the changing and dynamic nature of ecologies” (11). Mark Davis et al. explain that the practical value of the native/invasive dichotomy in conservation programs is seriously diminished and in some cases is becoming counterproductive (153). They note that “classifying biota according to their adherence to cultural standards of belonging, citizenship, fair play and morality does not advance our understanding of ecology” (153). Instead, they promote a more inclusive approach to conservation which accepts non-native species as part of Australia’s “new nature” (Low). Recent research into wildlife conservation indicates a striking lack of evidence for the case that pest control protects native diversity (see Bergstromn et al., Davis et al., Ewel & Putz, Reddiex & Forsyth). The problematic justification of “killing for conservation” becomes untenable when conservation outcomes are fundamentally uncertain. The mass slaughter which rabbits have been subjected to in Australia has been enacted with the goal of fostering life. This pursuit of creation through destruction, of re-birth through violent death, enacts a disturbing twist where death comes to signal the presence of life. This means, perversely, that a rabbit’s dead body becomes a valuable sign of environmental health. Conservation researchers Ben Reddiex and David M. Forsyth observe that this leads to a situation where environmental managers are “more interested in estimating how many pests they killed rather than the status of biodiversity they claimed to be able to protect” (715). What Other Stories Can We Tell about the Rabbit? With an ecological narrative that is failing, producing damage and death instead of fostering love and life, we are left with the question—what other stories can we tell about the place of the European rabbit in the Australian environment? How can the meaning ecologies of media and culture work in harmony with an ecological consciousness that promotes compassion for nonhuman life? Ignoring the native/invasive distinction entirely is deeply problematic because it registers the ecological history of Australia as continuity, and fails to acknowledge the colonising impact of European settlement on the environment. At the same time, continually reinforcing that divide through pro-invasive or pro-native stories drastically simplifies complex and interconnected ecological systems. Instead of the unproductive native/invasive dualism, ecologists and philosophers alike are suggesting “reconciliatory” approaches to the inhabitants of our shared environments which emphasise ecology as relational rather than classificatory. Evolutionary ecologist Scott P. Carroll uses the term “conciliation biology” as an alternative to invasion biology which focuses on the eradication of invasive species. “Conciliation biology recognises that many non-native species are permanent, that outcomes of native-nonnative interactions will vary depending on the scale of assessment and the values assigned to the biotic system, and that many non-native species will perform positive functions in one or more contexts” (186). This hospitable approach aligns with what Michael Rosensweig has termed “reconciliation ecology”—the modification and diversification of anthropogenic habitats to harbour a wider variety of species (201). Professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology Mark Bekoff encourages a “compassionate conservation” which avoids the “numbers game” of species thinking where certain taxonomies are valued above others and promotes approaches which “respect all life; treat individuals with respect and dignity; and tread lightly when stepping into the lives of animals”(24). In a similar vein environmental philosopher Deborah Bird Rose offers the term “Eco-reconciliation”, to describe a mode of “living generously with others, singing up relationships so that we all flourish” (Wild Dog 59). It may be that the rabbit cannot live in harmony with the bilby, and in this situation I am unsure of what a conciliation approach to ecology might look like in terms of managing both of these competing species. But I am sure what it should not look like if we are to promote approaches to ecology and conservation which avoid the simplistic dualism of native/invasive. The devaluation of rabbit life to the point of moral inconsiderability is fundamentally unethical. By classifying certain lives as “inappropriate,” and therefore expendable, the process of rabbit slaughter is simply too easy. The idea that the rabbit should disappear is disturbing in its abstract approach to these living, sentient creatures who share with us both place and history. A dynamic understanding of ecology dissipates the notion of a whole or static “nature.” This means that there can be no simple or comprehensive directives for how humans should interact with their environments. One of the most insidious aspects of the native/invasive divide is the way it makes violent death appear inevitable, as though rabbits must be culled. This obscures the many complex and contingent choices which determine the fate of nonhuman life. Understanding the dynamism of ecology requires an acceptance that nature does not provide simple prescriptive responses to problems, and instead “people are forced to choose the kind of environment they want” (189) and then take actions to engender it. This involves difficult decisions, one of which is culling to maintain rabbit numbers and facilitate environmental resilience. Living within a world of “discordant harmonies”, as Daniel Botkin evocatively describes it, environmental decisions are necessarily complex. The entanglement of ecological systems demands that we reject simplistic dualisms which offer illusory absolution from the consequences of the difficult choices humans make about life, ecologies, and how to manage them. Ecological Remembrance The vision of a rabbit-free Australia is unrealistic. As organisation like the Anti-Rabbit Research Foundation pursue this future ideal, they eradicate rabbits from the present, and seek to remove them from the past by replacing them culturally with the more suitable bilby. Culled rabbits lie rotting en masse in fields, food for no one, and even their cultural impact in human society is sought to be annihilated and replaced with more appropriate native creatures. The rabbits’ deaths do not turn back to life in transformative and regenerative processes that are ecological and cultural, but rather that death becomes “an event with no future” (Rose, Wild Dog 25). This is true oblivion, as the rabbit is entirely removed from the world. In this paper I have made a case for the importance of stories in ecology. I have argued that the kinds of stories we tell about rabbits determines how we treat them, and so have positioned stories as an essential part of an ecological system which takes “cultural selection” seriously. In keeping with this emphasis on story I offer to the conciliation push in ecological thinking the term “ecological remembrance” to capture an ethic of sharing time while sharing space. This spatio-temporal hospitality is focused on maintaining heterogeneous memories and histories of all beings who have impacted on the environment. In Deborah Bird Rose’s terms this is a “recuperative work” which commits to direct dialogical engagement with the past that is embedded in the present (Wild Country 23). In this sense it is a form of recuperation that promotes temporal and ecological continuity. Eco-remembrance aligns with dynamic understandings of ecology because it is counter-linear. Instead of approaching the past as a static idyll, preserved and archived, ecological remembrance celebrates the past as an ongoing, affective presence which is lived and performed. Ecological remembrance, applied to the European rabbit in Australia, would involve rejecting attempts to extricate the rabbit from Australian environments and cultures. It would seek acceptance of the rabbit as part of Australia’s “new nature” (Low), and aim for recognition of the rabbit’s impact on human society as part of dynamic multi-species ecologies. In this sense ecological remembrance of the rabbit directly opposes the goal of the Foundation for Rabbit Free Australia to eradicate the European rabbit from Australian environment and culture. On the Rabbit Free Australia website, the section on biological controls states that “the point is not how many rabbits are killed, but how many are left behind”. The implication is that the millions upon millions of rabbit lives extinguished have vanished from the earth, and need not be remembered or considered. However, as Deborah Rose argues, “all deaths matter” (Wild Dog 21) and “no death is a mere death” (Wild Dog 22). Every single rabbit is an individual being with its own unique life. To deny this is tantamount to claiming that each rabbit that dies from shooting or poisoning is the same rabbit dying again and again. Rose has written that “death makes claims upon all of us” (Wild Dog 19). These are claims of ethics and compassion, a claim that “we look into the eyes of the dying and not flinch, that we reach out to hold and to help” (Wild Dog 20). This claim is a duty of remembrance, a duty to “bear witness” (Wiesel 160) to life and death. The Nobel Peace Prize winning author, Elie Wiesel, argued that memory is a reconciliatory force that creates bonds as mass annihilation seeks to destroy them. Memory ensures that no life becomes truly life-less as it wrests the victims of mass slaughter from “oblivion” and allows the dead to “vanquish death” (21). In a continent inhabited by dead rabbits—a community of the dead—remembering these lost individuals and their lost lives is an important task for making sure that no death is a mere death. An ethic of ecological remembrance follows this recuperative aim. References Arthur, Jay M. The Default Country: A Lexical Cartography of Twentieth-Century Australia. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2003. Bagust, Phil. “Cuddly Koalas, Beautiful Brumbies, Exotic Olives: Fighting for Media Selection in the Attention Economy.” “Imaging Natures”: University of Tasmania Conference Proceedings (2004). 25 April 2012 ‹www.utas.edu.au/arts/imaging/bagust.pdf› Bekoff, Marc. “First Do No Harm.” New Scientist (28 August 2010): 24 – 25. Bergstrom, Dana M., Arko Lucieer, Kate Kiefer, Jane Wasley, Lee Belbin, Tore K. Pederson, and Steven L. Chown. “Indirect Effects of Invasive Species Removal Devastate World Heritage Island.” Journal of Applied Ecology 46 (2009): 73– 81. Botkin, Daniel. B. Discordant Harmonies: A New Ecology for the Twenty-first Century. New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990. Carroll, Scott. P. “Conciliation Biology: The Eco-Evolutionary Management of Permanently Invaded Biotic Systems.” Evolutionary Applications 4.2 (2011): 184 – 99. Coman, Brian. Tooth and Nail: The Story of the Rabbit in Australia. Melbourne: The Text Publishing Company, 1999. Crosby, Alfred W. Ecological Imperialism: The Biological Expansion of Europe, 900 – 1900. Second Edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Davis, Mark., Matthew Chew, Richard Hobbs, Ariel Lugo, John Ewel, Geerat Vermeij, James Brown, Michael Rosenzweig, Mark Gardener, Scott Carroll, Ken Thompson, Steward Pickett, Juliet Stromberg, Peter Del Tredici, Katharine Suding, Joan Ehrenfield, J. Philip Grime, Joseph Mascaro and John Briggs. “Don’t Judge Species on their Origins.” Nature 474 (2011): 152 – 54. Ewel, John J. and Francis E. Putz. “A Place for Alien Species in Ecosystem Restoration.” Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 2.7 (2004): 354-60. Forsyth, David M. and Ben Reddiex. “Control of Pest Mammals for Biodiversity Protection in Australia.” Wildlife Research 33 (2006): 711–17. Garnett, Ali, and Kaye Kessing. Easter Bilby. Department of Environment and Heritage: Kaye Kessing Productions, 2006. Heishman, Darice. “VHD Factsheet.” House Rabbit Network (2011). 15 June 2012 ‹http://www.rabbitnetwork.org/articles/vhd.shtml› Low, Tim. New Nature: Winners and Losers in Wild Australia. Melbourne: Penguin, 2002. Phillips, Sara. “How Eating Easter Chocolate Can Save Endangered Animals.” ABC Environment (1 April 2010). 15 June 2011 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/environment/articles/2010/04/01/2862039.htm› Plumwood, Val. “Decolonising Australian Gardens: Gardening and the Ethics of Place.” Australian Humanities Review 36 (2005). 15 June 2012 ‹http://www.australianhumanitiesreview.org/archive/Issue-July-2005/09Plumwood.html› Ponsonby Veterinary Centre. “Rabbit Viral Hemorrhagic Disease (VHD).” Small Pets. 26 May 2012 ‹http://www.petvet.co.nz/small_pets.cfm?content_id=85› Robin, Libby. How a Continent Created a Nation. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2007. Rose, Deborah Bird. Reports From a Wild Country: Ethics for Decolonisation. Sydney: University of New South Wales Press, 2004. ——-. Wild Dog Dreaming: Love and Extinction. Charlottesville and London: University of Virginia Press, 2011. Rosenzweig, Michael. L. “Reconciliation Ecology and the Future of Species Diversity.” Oryx 37.2 (2003): 194 – 205. Save the Bilby Fund. “Bilby Fact Sheet.” Easterbilby.com.au (2003). 26 May 2012 ‹http://www.easterbilby.com.au/Project_material/factsheet.asp› Van Dooren, Thom. “Invasive Species in Penguin Worlds: An Ethical Taxonomy of Killing for Conservation.” Conservation and Society 9.4 (2011): 286 – 98. Wiesel, Elie. From the Kingdom of Memory. New York: Summit Books, 1990.

If thinking about home necessitates thinking about “place, space, scale, identity and power,” as Alison Blunt and Robyn Dowling (2) suggest, then thinking about home themes in popular music makes no less a conceptual demand. Song lyrics and titles most often invoke dominant readings such as intimacy, privacy, nurture, refuge, connectedness and shared belonging, all issues found within Blunt and Dowling’s analysis. The spatial imaginary to which these authors refer takes vivid shape through repertoires of songs dealing with houses and other specific sites, vast and distant homelands, communities or, less tangibly, geographical or cultural settings where particular relationships can be found, supporting Blunt and Dowling’s major claim that home is complex, multi-scalar and multi-layered. Shelley Mallett’s claim that the term home “functions as a repository for complex, inter-related and at times contradictory socio-cultural ideas about people’s relationships with one another…and with places, spaces and things” (84) is borne out heavily by popular music where, for almost every sentiment that the term home evokes, it seems an opposite sentiment is evoked elsewhere: familiarity versus alienation, acceptance versus rejection, love versus loneliness. Making use of conceptual groundwork by Blunt and Dowling and by Mallett and others, the following discussion canvasses a range of meanings that home has had for a variety of songwriters, singers and audiences over the years. Intended as merely partial and exploratory rather than exhaustive, it provides some insights into contrasts, ironies and relationships between home and gender, diaspora and loss. While it cannot cover all the themes, it gives prominence to the major recurring themes and a variety of important contexts that give rise to these home themes. Most prominent among those songs dealing with home has been a nostalgia and yearning, while issues of how women may have viewed the home within which they have often been restricted to a narrowly defined private sphere are almost entirely absent. This serves as a reminder that, while some themes can be conducive to the medium of popular music, others may be significantly less so. Songs may speak directly of experience but not necessarily of all experiences and certainly not of all experiences equally. B. Lee Cooper claims “most popular culture ventures rely upon formula-oriented settings and phrasings to attract interest, to spur mental or emotional involvement” (93). Notions of home have generally proved both formulaic and emotionally-charged. Commonly understood patterns of meaning and other hegemonic references generally operate more successfully than alternative reference points. Those notions with the strongest cultural currency can be conveyed succinctly and denote widely agreed upon meanings. Lyrics can seldom afford to be deeply analytical but generally must be concise and immediately evocative. Despite that, this discussion will point to diverse meanings carried by songs about home. Blunt and Dowling point out that “a house is not necessarily nor automatically a home” (3). The differences are strongly apparent in music, with only a few songs relating to houses compared with homes. When Malvina Reynolds wrote in 1962 of “little boxes, on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky,” she was certainly referring to houses, not homes, thus making it easier to bypass the relationships which might have vested the inhabitants with more warmth and individuality than their houses, in this song about conformity and homogeneity. The more complex though elusive concept of home, however, is more likely to feature in love songs and to emanate from diasporal songs. Certainly these two genres are not mutually exclusive. Irish songs are particularly noteworthy for adding to the array of music written by, or representational of, those who have been forced away from home by war, poverty, strife or other circumstances. They manifest identities of displacement rather than of placement, as studied by Bronwen Walter, looking back at rather than from within their spatial imaginary. Phil Eva claims that during the 19th Century Irish émigrés sang songs of exile in Manchester’s streets. Since many in England’s industrial towns had been uprooted from their homes, the songs found rapport with street audiences and entered popular culture. For example, the song Killarney, of hazy origins but thought to date back to as early as 1850, tells of Killarney’s lakes and fells, Emerald isles and winding bays; Mountain paths and woodland dells… ...her [nature’s] home is surely there. As well as anthropomorphising nature and giving it a home, the song suggests a specifically geographic sense of home. Galway Bay, written by A. Fahy, does likewise, as do many other Irish songs of exile which link geography with family, kin and sometimes culture to evoke a sense of home. The final verse of Cliffs of Doneen gives a sense of both people and place making up home: Fare thee well to Doneen, fare thee well for a while And to all the kind people I’m leaving behind To the streams and the meadows where late I have been And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen. Earlier Irish songs intertwine home with political issues. For example, Tho’ the Last Glimpse of Erin vows to Erin that “In exile thy bosum shall still be my home.” Such exile resulted from a preference of fleeing Ireland rather than bowing to English oppression, which then included a prohibition on Irish having moustaches or certain hairstyles. Thomas Moore is said to have set the words of the song to the air Coulin which itself referred to an Irish woman’s preference for her “Coulin” (a long-haired Irish youth) to the English (Nelson-Burns). Diasporal songs have continued, as has their political edge, as evidenced by global recognition of songs such as Bayan Ko (My Country), written by José Corazon de Jesus in 1929, out of love and concern for the Philippines and sung among Filipinos worldwide. Robin Cohen outlines a set of criteria for diaspora that includes a shared belief in the possibility of return to home, evident in songs such as the 1943 Welsh song A Welcome in the Hillside, in which a Welsh word translating roughly as a yearning to return home, hiraeth, is used: We’ll kiss away each hour of hiraeth When you come home again to Wales. However, the immensely popular I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen, not of Irish origin but written by Thomas Westendorf of Illinois in 1875, suggests that such emotions can have a resonance beyond the diaspora. Anti-colonial sentiments about home can also be expressed by long-time inhabitants, as Harry Belafonte demonstrated in Island in the Sun: This is my island in the sun Where my people have toiled since time begun. Though I may sail on many a sea, Her shores will always be home to me. War brought a deluge of sentimental songs lamenting separation from home and loved ones, just as likely to be parents and siblings as sweethearts. Radios allowed wider audiences and greater popularity for these songs. If separation had brought a longing previously, the added horrors of war presented a stronger contrast between that which the young soldiers were missing and that which they were experiencing. Both the First and Second World Wars gave rise to songs long since sung which originated in such separations, but these also had a strong sense of home as defined by the nationalism that has for over a century given the contours of expectations of soldiers. Focusing on home, these songs seldom speak of the details of war. Rather they are specific about what the singers have left behind and what they hope to return to. Songs of home did not have to be written specifically for the war effort nor for overseas troops. Irving Berlin’s 1942 White Christmas, written for a film, became extremely popular with US troops during WWII, instilling a sense of home that related to familiarities and festivities. Expressing a sense of home could be specific and relate to regions or towns, as did I’m Goin’ Back Again to Yarrawonga, or it could refer to any home, anywhere where there were sons away fighting. Indeed the American Civil War song When Johnny Comes Marching Home, written by Patrick Sarsfield Gilmour, was sung by both Northerners and Southerners, so adaptable was it, with home remarkably unspecified and undescribed. The 1914 British song Keep the Home Fires Burning by Ivor Novello and Lena Ford was among those that evoked a connection between home and the military effort and helped establish a responsibility on those at home to remain optimistic: Keep the Homes fires burning While your hearts are yearning, Though your lads are far away They dream of home, There’s a silver lining Through the dark clouds shining, Turn the dark clouds inside out, Till the boys come Home. No space exists in this song for critique of the reasons for war, nor of a role for women other than that of homemaker and moral guardian. It was women’s duty to ensure men enlisted and home was rendered a private site for emotional enlistment for a presumed public good, though ironically also a point of personal hope where the light of love burned for the enlistees’ safe return. Later songs about home and war challenged these traditional notions. Two serve as examples. One is Pink Floyd’s brief musical piece of the 1970s, Bring the Boys Back Home, whose words of protest against the American war on Viet Nam present home, again, as a site of safety but within a less conservative context. Home becomes implicated in a challenge to the prevailing foreign policy and the interests that influence it, undermining the normal public sphere/private sphere distinction. The other more complex song is Judy Small’s Mothers, Daughters, Wives, from 1982, set against a backdrop of home. Small eloquently describes the dynamics of the domestic space and how women understood their roles in relation to the First and Second World Wars and the Viet Nam War. Reinforcing that “The materialities and imaginaries of home are closely connected” (Blunt and Dowling 188), Small sings of how the gold frames held the photographs that mothers kissed each night And the doorframe held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight. Small provides a rare musical insight into the disjuncture between the men who left the domestic space and those who return to it, and we sense that women may have borne much of the brunt of those awful changes. The idea of domestic bliss is also challenged, though from the returned soldier’s point of view, in Redgum’s 1983 song I Was Only Nineteen, written by group member John Schuman. It touches on the tragedy of young men thrust into war situations and the horrific after-affects for them, which cannot be shrugged off on return to home. The nurturing of home has limits but the privacy associated with the domestic sphere has often concealed the violence and mental anguish that happens away from public view. But by this time most of the songs referring to home were dominated once more by sentimental love, often borne of travel as mobility rose. Journeys help “establish the thresholds and boundaries of home” and can give rise to “an idealized, ideological and ethnocentric view of home” (Mallett 78). Where previously songsters had sung of leaving home in exile or for escape from poverty, lyrics from the 1960s onwards often suggested that work had removed people from loved ones. It could be work on a day-by-day basis, as in A Hard Day’s Night from the 1964 film of the same name, where the Beatles illuminate differences between the public sphere of work and the private sphere to which they return: When I’m home, everything seems to be alright, When I’m home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah and reiterated by Paul McCartney in Every Night: And every night that day is through But tonight I just want to stay in And be with you. Lyrics such as these and McCartney’s call to be taken “...home to the Mull of Kintyre,” singled him out for his home-and-hearth messages (Dempsey). But work might involve longer absences and thus more deepfelt loneliness. Simon and Garfunkel’s exemplary Homeward Bound starkly portrays a site of “away-ness”: I’m sittin’ in the railway station, got a ticket for my destination… Mundaneness, monotony and predictability contrast with the home to which the singer’s thoughts are constantly escaping. The routine is familiar but the faces are those of strangers. Home here is, again, not simply a domicile but the warmth of those we know and love. Written at a railway station, Homeward Bound echoes sentiments almost identical to those of (Leaving on a) Jet Plane, written by John Denver at an airport in 1967. Denver also co-wrote (Take Me Home) Country Roads, where, in another example of anthropomorphism as a tool of establishing a strong link, he asks to be taken home to the place I belong West Virginia, mountain momma, Take me home, Country Roads. The theme has recurred in numerous songs since, spawning examples such as Darin and Alquist’s When I Get Home, Chris Daughtry’s Home, Michael Bublé’s Home and Will Smith’s Ain’t No Place Like Home, where, in an opening reminiscent of Homeward Bound, the singer is Sitting in a hotel room A thousand miles away from nowhere Sloped over a chair as I stare… Furniture from home, on the other hand, can be used to evoke contentment and bliss, as demonstrated by George Weiss and Bob Thiele’s song The Home Fire, in which both kin and the objects of home become charged with meaning: All of the folks that I love are there I got a date with my favourite chair Of course, in regard to earlier songs especially, while the traveller associates home with love, security and tenderness, back at home the waiting one may have had feelings more of frustration and oppression. One is desperate to get back home, but for all we know the other may be desperate to get out of home or to develop a life more meaningful than that which was then offered to women. If the lot of homemakers was invisible to national economies (Waring), it seemed equally invisible to mainstream songwriters. This reflects the tradition that “Despite home being generally considered a feminine, nurturing space created by women themselves, they often lack both authority and a space of their own within this realm” (Mallett 75). Few songs have offered the perspective of the one at home awaiting the return of the traveller. One exception is the Seekers’ 1965 A World of Our Own but, written by Tom Springfield, the words trilled by Judith Durham may have been more of a projection of the traveller’s hopes and expectations than a true reflection of the full experiences of housebound women of the day. Certainly, the song reinforces connections between home and intimacy and privacy: Close the door, light the lights. We’re stayin’ home tonight, Far away from the bustle and the bright city lights. Let them all fade away, just leave us alone And we’ll live in a world of our own. This also strongly supports Gaston Bachelard’s claim that one’s house in the sense of a home is one’s “first universe, a real cosmos” (qtd. in Blunt and Dowling 12). But privacy can also be a loneliness when home is not inhabited by loved ones, as in the lyrics of Don Gibson’s 1958 Oh, Lonesome Me, where Everybody’s going out and having fun I’m a fool for staying home and having none. Similar sentiments emerge in Debbie Boone’s You Light up My Life: So many nights I’d sit by my window Waiting for someone to sing me his song. Home in these situations can be just as alienating as the “away” depicted as so unfriendly by Homeward Bound’s strangers’ faces and the “million people” who still leave Michael Bublé feeling alone. Yet there are other songs that depict “away” as a prison made of freedom, insinuating that the lack of a home and consequently of the stable love and commitment presumably found there is a sad situation indeed. This is suggested by the lilting tune, if not by the lyrics themselves, in songs such as Wandrin’ Star from the musical Paint Your Wagon and Ron Miller’s I’ve Never Been to Me, which has both a male and female version with different words, reinforcing gendered experiences. The somewhat conservative lyrics in the female version made it a perfect send-up song in the 1994 film Priscilla: Queen of the Desert. In some songs the absentee is not a traveller but has been in jail. In Tie a Yellow Ribbon round the Ole Oak Tree, an ex-inmate states “I’m comin’ home. I’ve done my time.” Home here is contingent upon the availability and forgivingness of his old girl friend. Another song juxtaposing home with prison is Tom Jones’ The Green, Green Grass of Home in which the singer dreams he is returning to his home, to his parents, girlfriend and, once again, an old oak tree. However, he awakes to find he was dreaming and is about to be executed. His body will be taken home and placed under the oak tree, suggesting some resigned sense of satisfaction that he will, after all, be going home, albeit in different circumstances. Death and home are thus sometimes linked, with home a euphemism for the former, as suggested in many spirituals, with heaven or an afterlife being considered “going home”. The reverse is the case in the haunting Bring Him Home of the musical Les Misérables. With Marius going off to the barricades and the danger involved, Jean Valjean prays for the young man’s safe return and that he might live. Home is connected here with life, safety and ongoing love. In a number of songs about home and absence there is a sense of home being a place where morality is gently enforced, presumably by women who keep men on the straight and narrow, in line with one of the women’s roles of colonial Australia, researched by Anne Summers. These songs imply that when men wander from home, their morals also go astray. Wild Rover bemoans Oh, I’ve been a wild rover for many a year, and I’ve spent all my money on whiskey and beer… There is the resolve in the chorus, however, that home will have a reforming influence. Gene Pitney’s Twenty-Four Hours from Tulsa poses the dangers of distance from a wife’s influence, while displaying opposition to the sentimental yearning of so many other songs: Dearest darlin’, I have to write to say that I won’t be home anymore ‘cause something happened to me while I was drivin’ home And I’m not the same anymore Class as well as gender can be a debated issue in meanings attached to home, as evident in several songs that take a more jaundiced view of home, seeing it as a place from which to escape. The Animals’ powerful We Gotta Get Outta This Place clearly suggests a life of drudgery in a home town or region. Protectively, the lyrics insist “Girl, there’s a better life for me and you” but it has to be elsewhere. This runs against the grain of other British songs addressing poverty or a working class existence as something that comes with its own blessings, all to do with an area identified as home. These traits may be loyalty, familiarity or a refusal to judge and involve identities of placement rather than of displacement in, for instance, Gerry and the Pacemakers’ Ferry Cross the Mersey: People around every corner, they seem to smile and say “We don’t care what your name is, boy. We’ll never send you away.” This bears out Blunt and Dowling’s claim that “people’s senses of themselves are related to and produced through lived and metaphorical experiences of home” (252). It also resonates with some of the region-based identity and solidarity issues explored a short time later by Paul Willis in his study of working class youth in Britain, which help to inform how a sense of home can operate to constrict consciousness, ideas and aspirations. Identity features strongly in other songs about home. Several years after Neil Young recorded his 1970 song Southern Man about racism in the south of the USA, the group Lynyrd Skynyrd, responded with Sweet Home Alabama. While the meaning of its lyrics are still debated, there is no debate about the way in which the song has been embraced, as I recently discovered first-hand in Tennessee. A banjo-and-fiddle band performing the song during a gig virtually brought down the house as the predominantly southern audience clapped, whopped and stamped its feet. The real meanings of home were found not in the lyrics but in the audience’s response. Wally Johnson and Bob Brown’s 1975 Home Among the Gum Trees is a more straightforward ode to home, with lyrics that prescribe a set of non-commodified values. It is about simplicity and the right to embrace a lifestyle that includes companionship, leisure and an enjoyment of and appreciation of nature, all threatened seriously in the three decades since the song’s writing. The second verse in which large shopping complexes – and implicitly the consumerism they encourage – are eschewed (“I’d trade it all tomorrow for a little bush retreat where the kookaburras call”), is a challenge to notions of progress and reflects social movements of the day, The Green Bans Movement, for instance, took a broader and more socially conscientious attitude towards home and community, putting forward alternative sets of values and insisting people should have a say in the social and aesthetic construction of their neighbourhoods as well as the impacts of their labour (Mundey). Ironically, the song has gone on to become the theme song for a TV show about home gardens. With a strong yet more vague notion of home, Peter Allen’s I Still Call Australia Home, was more prone to commodification and has been adopted as a promotional song for Qantas. Nominating only the desire to travel and the love of freedom as Australian values, both politically and socially innocuous within the song’s context, this catchy and uplifting song, when not being used as an advertisement, paradoxically works for a “diaspora” of Australians who are not in exile but have mostly travelled for reasons of pleasure or professional or financial gain. Another paradox arises from the song Home on the Range, dating back to the 19th century at a time when the frontier was still a strong concept in the USA and people were simultaneously leaving homes and reminiscing about home (Mechem). Although it was written in Kansas, the lyrics – again vague and adaptable – were changed by other travellers so that versions such as Colorado Home and My Arizona Home soon abounded. In 1947 Kansas made Home on the Range its state song, despite there being very few buffalo left there, thus highlighting a disjuncture between the modern Kansas and “a home where the buffalo roam” as described in the song. These themes, paradoxes and oppositional understandings of home only scratch the surface of the wide range of claims that are made on home throughout popular music. It has been shown that home is a flexible concept, referring to homelands, regions, communities and private houses. While predominantly used to evoke positive feelings, mostly with traditional views of the relationships that lie within homes, songs also raise challenges to notions of domesticity, the rights of those inhabiting the private sphere and the demarcation between the private and public spheres. Songs about home reflect contexts and challenges of their respective eras and remind us that vigorous discussion takes place about and within homes. The challenges are changing. Where many women once felt restrictively tied to the home – and no doubt many continue to do so – many women and men are now struggling to rediscover spatial boundaries, with production and consumption increasingly impinging upon relationships that have so frequently given the term home its meaning. With evidence that we are working longer hours and that home life, in whatever form, is frequently suffering (Beder, Hochschild), the discussion should continue. In the words of Sam Cooke, Bring it on home to me! References Bacheland, Gaston. The Poetics of Space. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1994. Beder, Sharon. Selling the Work Ethic: From Puritan Pulpit to Corporate PR. London: Zed Books, 2000. Blunt, Alison, and Robyn Dowling. Home. London: Routledge, 2006. Cohen, Robin. Global Diasporas: An Introduction. London: UCL Press, 1997. Cooper, B. Lee. “Good Timin’: Searching for Meaning in Clock Songs.” Popular Music and Society 30.1 (Feb. 2007): 93-106. Dempsey, J.M. “McCartney at 60: A Body of Work Celebrating Home and Hearth.” Popular Music and Society 27.1 (Feb. 2004): 27-40. Eva, Phil. “Home Sweet Home? The Culture of ‘Exile’ in Mid-Victorian Popular Song.” Popular Music 16.2 (May 1997): 131-150. Hochschild, Arlie. The Time Bind: When Work Becomes Home and Home Becomes Work. New York: Metropolitan/Holt, 1997. Mallett, Sonia. “Understanding Home: A Critical Review of the Literature.” The Sociological Review 52.1 (2004): 62-89. Mechem, Kirke, “The Story of ‘Home on the Range’.” Reprint from the Kansas Historical Quarterly (Nov. 1949). Topeka, Kansas: Kansas State Historical Society. 28 May 2007 http://www.emporia.edu/cgps/tales/nov2003.html>. Mundey, Jack. Green Bans and Beyond. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1981. Nelson-Burns, Lesley. Folk Music of England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and America. 29 May 2007 http://www.contemplator.com/ireland/thoerin.html>. Summers, Anne. Damned Whores and God’s Police: The Colonization of Women in Australia. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1975. Walter, Bronwen. Outsiders Inside: Whiteness, Place and Irish Women. London: Routledge, 2001. Waring, Marilyn. Counting for Nothing: What Men Value and What Women Are Worth. Wellington, NZ: Allen & Unwin, 1988. Willis, Paul. Learning to Labor: How Working Class Kids Get Working Class Jobs. New York: Columbia UP, 1977. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Varney, Wendy. "Homeward Bound or Housebound?: Themes of Home in Popular Music." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/16-varney.php>. APA Style Varney, W. (Aug. 2007) "Homeward Bound or Housebound?: Themes of Home in Popular Music," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/16-varney.php>.