Our New Logo

The Friends of Drouin’s Trees commissioned Helen Timbury Design for a logo that might fittingly represent our group and its work.

We discussed with Helen the desire to particularly represent the magnificent eucalypt species that grace our beautiful town.

After several meetings and discussions with Helen and our own friends group, Helen produced half a dozen designs for us to consider.

Our final choice …

The chosen design represents the green leaf, white flower, grey fruit and brown bark of most eucalypts. The circular form can be easily applied to tags or labels that we envisage might ultimately be attached to some of our special trees.

The new Friends of Drouin’s Trees logo complements The Committee for Drouin logo with the Ficifolia emblem. 

One member of our friends committee very kindly sponsored this process for us.

We are indebted to Helen for her friendly and conscientious endeavours and for the very appropriate and eye-catching design.

Little Wattlebird

‘Kookay-kok’, ‘Yekop-yekop’ and Kraagk-kook-kraagk’ are just a few of the word descriptions for the musical calls of the Little Wattlebird, (listen - Graeme Chapman external link).

Little Wattlebirds are large grey-brown honeyeaters with long brush-like tongues that they use for extracting nectar from flowers, and they are relatively prolific in the parks and gardens of Drouin. Like some other honeyeater species – Rainbow Lorikeets, Noisy Miners, Bell Miners, etc – Little Wattlebirds often feed in boisterous and aggressive groups, frequently driving off other birds from their garden territory.

Also, like many other honeyeaters, Little Wattlebirds will take insects on the wing, displaying a large rufous wing patch in flight. Their streaky grey-brown plumage is similar to the Red Wattlebird but the Little Wattlebird does not have the red wattles behind the eye or the yellow belly patch of its slightly larger ‘cousin’.  

The preferred habitat of the Little Wattlebird includes woodlands, drier forests, heathlands and in some places, urban parks and gardens. Their distribution is restricted to the south-east corner of the continent and they are locally nomadic, following the blossoming eucalypt, melaleuca, banksia and other native trees and shrubs as well as some of the exotic flowering trees and shrubs in urban areas.

 A fairly common experience in the streets and parks of Drouin is to encounter a loud ‘kwok’ alarm call when you pass under a flowering tree containing a feeding party of Little Wattlebirds. I for one am more than happy to share our trees and shrubs with this highly active nectar feeder.

Goodbye Old Tree

 (Mountain Grey Gum, Eucalyptus cypellocarpa, Lardner Rd Drouin)

You no doubt would have seen the beginnings of Drouin.

As recently, (in your terms), as 1879, you would have seen Mr. John Startup begin his sawmill just down the road from where you stood. You probably watched him construct his tramway and start his quarry in the vicinity.

Somehow you managed to survive the axmen as they cleared the land around you for timber. You would have seen the first horse and cart to use the road that passes beneath your wonderful canopy; given shade to the schoolchildren as they walked home on a hot day.

I wonder how much pollution you have absorbed from the increasing number of cars that nowadays rush by? How much carbon have you sequestered?

Yes, you were wounded and disease had entered your mighty trunk, but your aged hollows provided accommodation for untold numbers of birds and animals over the years.

We trimmed your limbs for power lines and you still struggled on. We widened the road right to your very trunk. Then you became a hazard but it was us that made you so. We are so sorry.

We’d like to think that you won’t be forgotten. You undoubtedly have provided memories for many people. We are hopeful of planting some new trees in your memory so that your legacy will live on.

Goodbye old tree and thank you. 

Postscript

It was difficult to watch. Over the day as I witnessed the demise of this Drouin giant, it seemed to me, that at times as the chainsaw screamed so did the tree – at least in my mind it did.

Several particularly poignant moments occurred as a pair of ravens kept returning to the site and circling the ever diminishing structure that once was their nest tree.