If there is a sweeter musical ditty in the rainforest than that of a rose robin’s territorial call I am yet to hear it. It genuinely lifts my heart (and my mood) to be greeted on a Spring morning by a male rose robin advertising his wares in the forest outside the bedroom window.
Rose robins are tiny, shy songbirds whom I have come to appreciate as reliable seasonal markers for the end of true winter. They remain almost silent throughout the cold months of late May to mid-July, but around the end of July the forest comes alive with their bright voice and I know that the season of nesting will soon be upon us. Within days of hearing this territorial call the daytime weather temperatures will shift noticeably towards a familiar warmth and I will see the first of the Macleay swallowtail butterflies, white-lipped skinks and swarms of paper wasps.