A birder?s eye view of Kakadu: ?Don?t give up until you go to bed?

A lifelong bird enthusiast, Paterson looks like he was born in an Akubra and sports a broad smile that is undimmed by the oppressive heat of the build up and the regular pre-dawn starts required to lead tours through Kakadu national park. Today he’s taking us through the maze of channels that cross a broad floodplain and before we launch he’s already begun pointing out birds lining the banks.

We keep our eyes peeled as we follow a narrow waterway lined with impenetrable groves of bamboo and flakey melaleucas that leave a sweetly medicinal perfume in the air. Inscrutable reptilian eyes watch us from the murky waterline and the chittering of crickets is punctuated by the deep hoot of a barking owl before Paterson suddenly cries out.

Travelling with birders - and Paterson in particular - is a lesson in landscapes, seasons and flora. Though every conversation carries the risk of abrupt termination by the call of a channel-billed cuckoo or the cascading chitter of a whistling kite.

Over several days we visit dry stone country and monsoon forest, receding billabongs and croc-filled wetlands in search of the 280 species found here. By the final morning, we’re walking slowly between chest-high stalks of dried yellow grass with every sense on high alert. Ancient pillars of sandstone glow in the early morning sun as the mechanical buzz of cicadas rises and crashes over us in waves.

Suddenly there’s a flash of movement ahead. Binoculars and camera lenses are instantly deployed. Following their lead I see a small, nondescript bird with tan feathers and a slightly curved beak that falls squarely into the category of LBB - an unidentifiable little brown bird - until Paterson informs me it’s a dusky honeyeater.