Marvels, tailed and winged
Rare Books, Entomology, and Wildlife Care
“Nature is nowhere to be seen in greater perfection than in the very smallest of her works. For this reason then, I must beg of my readers, notwithstanding the contempt they feel for many of these objects, not to feel a similar disdain for the information I am about to give relative thereto, seeing that, in the study of Nature, there are none of her works that are unworthy of our consideration.”
Catchwords (written on the bottom margin of a page which repeat the first word on the following page), and behatted snails in the marginalia. Chrysography (the art of writing in letters of gold), and a single squirrel-haired brush. A cat not in a hat, but in a habit. A wise bat, one of a bunch of grapes. Ornately illustrated, a beetle, a dragonfly, a monkey upon a donkey carrying books, perhaps. Delighting in the sidelines, this time at State Library Victoria (SLV), to see a Book of Hours, southern Netherlands, c.1490 and a Pontifical made for Philippe de Levis, the Bishop of Mirepoix, Paris, c. 1520, with some exquisite insects for good measure. Our heartfelt thanks to Dr Anna Welch, Principal Collection Curator, History of the Book, for sharing her knowledge, revealing such beauty and illuminating the characters and decoding their meaning, snail by shell.
Our fascination with entomology broadens as a new project continues to bubble in the wings, and just like our The Earth is Us contribution, it is but only fitting that the trio of ringtail joeys, newly arrived and super timid, as they settle, should be named after some of the artists whose work we have been admiring and discussing of late, in the collections of SLV and the Baillieu Library, University of Melbourne. Please meet Helena and Harriet, named after the clever Scott sisters, and Ed, named after Edward Donovan.
Both Harriet and Ed, in joey form, are actual siblings, found in the pouch of their deceased mum, while Helena was found on her lonesome. Harriet and Ed are still quite tricky to tell apart, but as their own book of days grows, the trio are making cracking progress. Now they’ll be a trio of entomologists, or whatever they choose, working towards a springtime release.
“A well-made wing is a clever thing. It collaborates with the air to keep a body off the ground. And it does it (and this is the clever bit) merely by existing. A well-made wing is, you might even say, a wonder of nature.”
Though not winged, but magical in every sense and a lover of insects, also passing through the Tiny but Wild doors of late, little Pickle, a short-beaked echidna (Tachyglossus aculeatus), or so she was named for the duration of her overnight stay with us. A young female echidna, who was dropped off to a vet clinic in Footscray, we took her home and looked after her, in a softer, quieter scenario, while she waited for her appointment at Melbourne Zoo, where it was revealed that she was in good condition and the abrasions to her beak were minimal.
Sadly, however, as she had initially been dropped off by a member of the public who gave no indication of where the echidna’s home was, we, in turn, have no way of knowing where she lives. Supplying the location of where wildlife are found is critical information, as all wildlife, once rehabilitated, need to return to the exact, or as close to exact, location where they were found. The homing signal of an echidna is particularly strong.
While with us, Pickle managed to escape our makeshift enclosure, and explore beneath the shelving. She found no termites to nibble, or that we know of, but she did locate areas of our house to clean.
In further pages both tiny and wild, Hans, a juvenile Gould’s wattled bat, who came into care in the first week of the new year, and Arp, a fellow Gould’s wattled bat, who came into care recently, returned home to the top end of the city, all but wing in wing, the other warm night. First went Arp, in a characteristic quiver of excitement, followed swiftly by Hans, who initially flew the opposite direction, and then did a sharp u-turn to follow his buddy, Arp. It was beautiful to see the two of them fly off together, two velvety soft, healthy micros, especially given that this was our fourth time trying to release Hans (please turn back earlier to see Hans say, ‘nope, not tonight’, as Little forests and others in care threaded off into the night, but young Hans, still learning the ropes, declined).
Hans and Arp, while in the outdoor enclosure, had buddied up, and would eat their mealworms alongside one another, as if part of a medieval marginalia grapevine come to life. They’d often sleep near or atop each other in a cosy plushness of warmth and camaraderie, and we couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. Such was our joy that all we have of the moment of release is short, shaky footage pursuing a shadow. Pausing the footage, frame by frame, we can find Arp and Hans in the night sky, a marvellous team. They did it! They’re off! Hurrah!
May Hans, Arp, and Pickle, those entomologists diverse, be enjoying all that they discover. And my Harriet, Helena, and Ed, also, in the fullness of time.
As ever, please note: you need to be a qualified, vaccinated carer to handle megabats and microbats.
Image credit: An iridescent detail from State Library Victoria’s edition of Edward Donovan’s An Epitome of the Natural History of the Insects of China, 1800–1805.
