I arrived in December, having arranged to stay a week—primarily to carry out soil tests which were crucial to the research paper I was writing at the time. Although this meant being away from my wife and kids right up until Christmas Eve, I was in a hurry to complete the work, and my onerous teaching schedule had prevented me from getting to the facility any earlier.

The property had once belonged to the late Edith Barnes, a world-renowned expert on the Australian Masked Owl. She and her husband Roy had bequeathed their house and surrounding 50 hectares of forest and grassland—a truly unique ecosystem—to the State of Queensland, for research in biology and the earth sciences. The converted house now contained a bunk-bed dormitory, a kitchen and generous living/dining area, a central presentation space, and a small office. The dorm could accommodate up to 20 visiting researchers, but at the time the events described in this story took place, I was the facility’s sole resident. My lodgings were basic, to say the least: timber walls, sagging mattresses, flywire-less windows, and no air-conditioning to take the edge off the December heat (there was, however, an electric fan). I felt a bit lonely sleeping among 19 empty beds. I decided to sleep in a different bed each night—top bunk one night, bottom bunk the next; then onto the next bed, and so on—just to keep things interesting.