The Cassowary: Why We Should Care by Author Anne Montgomery...

It’s estimated that nearly 500 animal species have become extinct since the beginning of the 20th century. Among them the Passenger Pigeon, Japanese Sea Lion, Western Black Rhinoceros, Golden Toad, Caribbean Monk Seal, and Mexican Grizzly Bear, now gone forever.

And yet, for most of us, the absence of these creatures makes no difference in our daily lives. Perhaps that’s why some people roll their eyes when they hear about saving the tiny Snail Darter or the Polar Bear or the Gray Wolf.

But what if a creature existed that could change lives with its passing? And I mean change in a big way.

Meet the cassowary.

I first became aware of the giant, Australian bird that vaguely resembles an ostrich, but which sports a fabulously-colored keratin casque, while walking in the Daintree Rainforest – a UNESCO site like the Great Barrier Reef over which it hovers – that has one of the most complex ecosystems on Earth, hosting species whose ancestors date back 110 million years.

“The cassowary is extremely important,” our guide explained. “Without the bird, the forest would not exist.”

Daintree is primordial. Giant strangler figs crawl across the forest floor. Dappled sunlight sneaks though a thick green canopy. Massive ferns sprout from leaf-littered soil. The outside world is muted, and the sight of a dinosaur might not seem strange.

I learned the cassowary is a one-bird master gardener, a creature that combs the forest floor eating fallen fruits, even gobbling up plants that are toxic to other creatures. The bird consumes up to 150 different types of fruits. The existence of 70 to 100 plant species depends on the cassowary pooping out their seeds in a pile of protective, compost-like dung, the smell of which repels seed predators. The cassowary is a “keystone” species, which means a species on which others in an ecosystem largely depend, one that, if removed, would cause the ecosystem to change drastically.

So, no cassowary, no rainforest. But there’s more. Below Daintree are mangroves, a mucky area rich in bio-matter that filters down from the forest. All types of young creatures - crabs, jellyfish, snappers, jacks, red drums, sea trout, tarpon, sea bass, and even juvenile sharks - thrive in the protection of the fertile water of the mangroves.

 Offshore, the Great Barrier Reef follows Australia’s eastern coast. There, too, the nutrients from the forest help feed the tiny creatures that build the reefs. This fertilizer promotes the growth of phytoplankton which nourishes the zooplankton on which the coral polyps dine. Without this sustenance the coral dies, losing the ability to protect the shoreline from waves, storms, and flooding, which leads to loss of human life and property.

Also consider that roughly 25% of the world’s fish species spend part of their lives on the reefs. If the Great Barrier Reef dies – note that half of the more than 1,400-mile structure has already perished – vast fisheries could collapse leading to starvation that could ultimately affect billions of people.

Which brings me back to the cassowary. It’s estimated that only 12,000 to 15,000 of the birds remain in the wild. Loss of habitat is decreasing their numbers, as are attacks by dogs.  Another problem is humans driving too fast.

Why should we care?

I think the cassowary is but one example of the interconnectedness of life. Perhaps that's something we should think about.

Please allow me to give you a brief intro to my latest historical fiction novel for your reading pleasure.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century
magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archaeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

Amazon Buy Link

Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on her website and Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

Blackflies—Friend or Foe? Or Both…

In Blackflies and Blueberries, the second installment of the Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls series, protagonist Hart Stewart meets his match when he’s introduced to a swarm of blackflies, and has a hard time outrunning the vicious little vampires. Like Hart, millions of campers, cabin-fevered tourists, and northern residents abhor these pests. However, it’s easy to forget that blackflies may in fact have positive attributes. Wait…what? That’s right. These little blood-suckers play a huge role in the ecological community that we don’t realize.

Now, it’s a long-held belief that blackflies pollinate blueberry bushes. But scientists have a different opinion. Seems like these demons with wings are more like nectar robbers. They’ll fly in and stick their face into the nectaries of blueberries and other small plants, but they are not very efficient at transferring pollen, mostly because of their small body size. That’s where bees get the nod for their pollinating prowess. Okay, so if blackflies aren’t good for blueberries, what are they good for?

The blackfly provides a direct link between the aquatic and terrestrial world, serving as a significant food source. Blackflies lay their eggs in fast-flowing water like streams where brook trout and other fish are found. In the larval stage, they comprise an important component of the food chain for fish, amphibians, birds, and ducks. Dragonflies, damselflies, and birds are among their predators during their days or weeks of flight. So if you were to take a major player like blackflies out of the ecosystem, then it can have a cascading effect on others inhabiting that ecosystem.

Many people consider blackflies to be the guardians of the north. These are the brave ones who seek solace from the masses during the glorious time of late May and early June. These are the adventurers who crave solitude from crowded city streets and noise pollution. They pack up their gear, and head into the far northern woods where swarms of blackflies keep people away. I truly applaud those people. Let’s just hope that they don’t forget to pack the bug spray.

Whether folklore or fact, I choose to give blackflies the benefit of the doubt. The belief persists that more blackflies mean more blueberries. And if you’re a blueberry lover like me, that’s a good thing to believe in! 

Here's a little bite of my latest teen psychic mystery, Blackflies and Blueberries...

The only witness left to testify against an unsolved crime in Fairy Falls isn’t a person…

City born and bred, Hart Stewart possesses the gift of psychometry—the psychic ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them. Since his mother’s death, seventeen-year-old Hart has endured homelessness, and has learned ways to keep his illiteracy under wraps. He eventually learns of a great-aunt living in Fairy Falls, and decides to leave the only life he’s ever known for an uncertain future.

Diana MacGregor lives in Fairy Falls. Her mother was a victim of a senseless murder. Only Diana’s unanswered questions and her grief keeps her going, until Hart finds her mother’s lost ring and becomes a witness to her murder.

Through Hart’s psychic power, Diana gains hope for justice. Their investigation leads them into the corrupt world threatening Fairy Falls. To secure the town’s future, Hart and Diana must join forces to uncover the shocking truth, or they risk losing the true essence of Fairy Falls forever.

Excerpt:

As Hart continued his journey, he became aware of a buzzing around his ears. He fanned his hand around both ears in a circular motion, took another gulp of water, and realized the buzzing was still there. Annoyed, Hart whipped his faded baseball cap off, waved it around his head, and put it back on. There. That should take care of the little bugger. But it didn’t. The buzzing grew louder. Louder and more persistent. Something bit him on the back of his neck. Hart winced and clenched his teeth. It was as if someone had plunged a sharp needle into him. He reached to slap his sweaty neck a few times. When he pulled back his hand, Hart’s blue eyes bulged at the sight of blood smeared across his palm. What the hell just bit me? A Fairy Falls vampire?

The buzzing returned, and another creature flew into his ear. Hart freaked. Maybe it’s trying to burrow into my brain? Suck out the fluids? Leave me paralyzed on the road? His heart raced. He frantically dug a finger into his ear to extract whatever had crawled in there. He winced, hearing a sudden pop, like its body had exploded in his ear canal. Hart’s shoulders tensed, as he pulled out his finger. It, too, was smudged with blood. His blood. Sweat blistered across his temples and dripped down his face. What’s going on? What are these strange creatures? And why are they attacking me?

More buzzing accompanied these thoughts. Biting his bottom lip, Hart wiped the blood from his hand and finger across his jeans, and turned to face the enemy. He dropped his jaw and water bottle at the same time. A flock, no, a herd, no, a swarm of black, buzzing, blood-sucking whatever-they-were, were inches from his face. The black cluster moved in for the kill. Hart promptly closed his mouth, took a step back, then another, and another, but the little beasties followed him every-which-way he went. He broke to the left; they followed. He cut to the right; they pursued. He started to run backward; they kept up with every stride taken. A root snagged Hart’s ankle and tripped him. He rolled a short distance down a ravine before smacking into a group of moss-covered boulders.

Disoriented, Hart shook his head, then looked up. That was a mistake. The swarm of flying beasties were now hovering over him. His breathing became shallow, his heartbeat erratic. His mouth went dry. This is it. I’ll be devoured in a matter of minutes by a hoard of vicious, bloodletting demons made of teeth and wings. Then Hart heard something else to his right. Not buzzing or whining, but a noise that sounded like a nervous-whump, as if someone was thrashing about in the bush. Slowly, Hart glanced to his right. His skin tingled all over. Not more than a metre away, coiled in layers of brown and black, hunched a lone rattlesnake, ready to strike.

In one breath, Hart rolled to his left, stood, and sprinted into the forest. He ran like his life depended on it, cutting his own path, while branches and saplings scraped his face and whipped his legs. The flying black demons were hot on his trail but Hart soon lost them, and after about fifteen minutes of constant running, looking back, running, and looking back, he sensed it was safe enough to slow down. His lungs protested, his legs screamed their silent pain as Hart, now sweating like a fat man in a sauna, collapsed in a clearing and surrendered to his body’s wishes.

Feeling his legs cramp, Hart reached down to rub both his calves briskly. Tired and hot, and now probably lost again, he knew he had to find his way back to the road, wherever that was. Hart swore aloud, angry not only with himself, but with the strange, savage creatures that lived up here. He had thought he had some idea of what to expect. The trucker, whom he’d hitched a ride up here with, had told him about the numerous golf courses that dotted the area, about the million dollar cottages nestled amongst the trees, and about the condominium style resorts that were being built around many of the lakes’ shorelines. Hart banged a fist against the spongy forest floor. He thought Fairy Falls would have been more civilized, more developed. But he was wrong. Dead wrong.

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:

Lost and Found, Book One Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀