SEASONS: THE WATTLE IN BLOOM ~~ 2

Over at The Nature of Robertson,

my friend Denis has written about the entrance of Spring.

Last year, I published here my homage to the Wattle -

and my thoughts about the arbitrary nature of the dating of Spring.

Here is a fine instance of a Wattle in bloom in time for a revised Wattle Day,

August 1 if the powers that be want to take notice.

I was smitten by this species of Wattle so .....

an email to Denis asking for identification.

Here's what Denis said ~~~

It is a prostrate form of Cootamundra Wattle.
http://www.malleenativeplants.com.au/acacia-baileyana-prostrate-form-cootamundra-wattle/

This plant has been grown so widely that aberrant forms have appeared (naturally) 

and then (and this is the real point) have been recognised as worthy of cultivation, 

so they have come into commerce.

There is a lovely form which has purple tips.

But in many areas the true form has become a garden escape, 

and ends up being eradicated from nature reserves 

around Canberra as a weedy species.

In search of the rushing, gushing Yarra River - Part 1

I had a lovely day out yesterday.

It was full of the unexpected and pleasant surprises.

Large tracts of Victoria are under water at the moment.

A vast contrast from the worst drought since white settlement

and the deathly bushfires of last year.

The radio said that the Yarra River was expected to flood

at Yarra Glen.

I didn't want to wait till the Yarra actually flooded.

I wanted to see the Yarra gushing and rushing

with the water of the yet-to-be flood.

And I did.

This is the story of my day in search of the pre-flood Yarra.

The map at this site will give you a bit of an idea of where I went.

As I left the outer eastern suburbs of Melbourne behind

and hit the Melba Highway,

everything was green

and there was water, water everywhere.

Dams were full to the brim.

A few drops more and they would overflow.

Water was lying at the edge of the road

and the Yarra billabongs were spreading.

The photos above and below were taken
from Skyline Drive looking back to Yarra Glen.

Looking for Sugarloaf Reservoir Park was quite an exercise.
I think there is a job going begging in the Victorian public sector -
Commissar of Signage.
I find the signage poor in and around Melbourne -
sometimes beyond belief.
It doesn't compare with the signage in Sydney -
where the traffic moves so quickly
and the layout of the city is so convoluted
one would never survive without clear signage.

I turned off the Melba Highway at the appropriate sign.
Not to see another sign on a major road for the rest of the day.
I later was told I did not go far enough along
the Yarra Glen to Eltham road before turning off.

I had two sets of "clear" instructions
neither of which delivered the desired result.

After wandering hither and yon -
yes, I didn't have a clue where I was -
I found Sugarloaf in the distance.
The photo below is the result.

My camera is fairly humble -
a Kodak EasyShare DX7590
(5.0 mega pixels and 10X optical zoom) -
and I am an even humbler photographer
(for this read ignorant and unskilled).

If I were clever,
I could probably customise settings
but I am not clever enough to figure all that.
Given these limitations,
I was rather pleased with this photograph.
I was a great distance from the water,
and I couldn't tell how well the zoom
was handling what I was asking of it.
I consider myself fortunate to have
recorded not only the water
but the dam wall and, somehow, the CBD in the distance.

Once I discovered this back part (well I think it was the back part of the reservoir), I followed a road which ran alongside the high Melbourne Water perimeter fence. So you don't lay awake at night wondering, I have to tell you that there is a fair degree of security around our water storages.  I went past all sorts of signs and many, many locked gates.  And after this journey, I eventually came to a half-open gate.

In spite of warnings to trespassers, I - lost in search of a pre-flood experience - entered.  I went down a bitumen driveway and came to a large concrete area.  At one end of this was a multi-story building.  But I couldn't resist walking across to the fenced off section at the other side of the concrete apron.  And there I was - high above the Yering Gorge.  And the water was rushing and gushing.

Camera was quickly put into action and, just as I had taken these, a man came to see what I was doing.  I explained to him about looking for Sugarloaf, the poor signage, seeing the Yarra in flood, etc.  And he gave me directions....

....and I did make it to the Sugarloaf Reservoir Park....

and here is some explanatory signage

Click the above photos (3) to enlarge and make legible.

The picture below is of a section of a narrow peninsula jutting into the reservoir

which is covered in low blooming wattle.

and then there was the getting out -

and, if the getting in was a mystery, so was the getting out.

And it had its adventures too...

.... I found a castle in the hills.

A modern version - but, I think, a castle nonetheless.

One finds all sorts of things on roadsides in the bush.

The quaintest are usually letter boxes.

This is the most curious.

One can imagine baskets left there

to receive the bread, the parcels.

But...what is the story with the picture frame?

Hopefully this is a successful partnership.

Bush flora.

Driving down the bush road,

I spotted the beautifully rusty wheelbarrow.

I could not resist.

Pulled up the car right in the middle of the road,

because - with the Kodak zoom lens - I thought 

I could get a picture from the road.

Next thing, a woman came into view.

I walked over and explained how I had found the wheelbarrow -

or it had found me.

Introductions done -  she is Deirdre.

Her cottage garden is small.

She would like to plant her favourite daphnes

but there is no room.

Nillumbik Shire Council has some tight controls.

The amount of land given to non-indigenous plants is limited.

Deirdre has planted out a number of wattles -

but these are wattles indigenous to the area.

As well, the shire dictates the height of houses.

Deirdre's house fits well into the landscape -

almost hugging the ground in comparison

with the bush around.

I told Deirdre about my Yering Gorge adventure,

and she told me how her Bend of Islands home

overlooked the gorge and took me to the verandah

so I could photograph her view.

Yering Gorge in the Bend of Islands -

photographed from Deirdre's verandah.

And, across the old white bridge above,
I exited the Bend of Islands
through some beautiful green Victorian bush.

The story continues to-morrow

with the rushing, gushing Yarra River

at Warrandyte.

SEASONS: THE WATTLE IN BLOOM

This tree was photographed in Eltham, Victoria on 31 July 2010

One of the things that annoys me is that we post-1788 settlers, don't pay sufficient attention to the seasons.  Decades ago, when I first visited, Kakadu in the Northern Territory and heard that the Aboriginal people of the area counted six seasons not four, I began to wonder about this.

I know that farmers and keen gardeners notice local differences.  I once listened to a group of old fellows from my church talking about gardening and the differences between planting and growing at Box Hill and Upper Ferntree Gully.  But do we rationalist, mechanistic modernists take this sort of knowledge seriously.

Spring, in the Southern Hemisphere, is listed for 1 September but how arbitrary that is.  The wattle is listed as a winter flowering plant.  And yet Australia has a special day, Wattle Day, on 1 September each year - past the flowering time for wattle but - surprise, surprise - marking the first day of spring.

So you see, I think we have things quite wrong.  Wattle Day would be better celebrated on 1 August - and Australia would be better placed to mark Australian Spring as commencing on that date too.

So let's give a thought to where we live.  We might have to centralise certain dates for the whole of the country - but lets acknowledge Mother Nature at work where we live and the different seasons and time zones of weather she has made for us.  It might just be the beginning of a whole new way of thinking about  Australian ecology.

The Don...Mighty River of the Peoples of Ancient Djiru...

My good friend Patricia Corowa and her daughter Virginia Kruger have been on the receiving end of wonderful photographs of the mighty Don River, just north of Bowen in North Queensland - at the northern end of the famed Whitsundays. Patricia and I grew up in Bowen - so we have memories of going out to the banks of the Don to rejoice in its raging, fast flowing waters. It was always said that the Don, in flood, was the fastest running river in Australia because of the steep and relatively short gradient from mountains to mouth.

Burdekin Falls Dam in flood - 15 January 2007

Growing up and spending most of my life in North Queensland (Bowen, Townsville, Mount Isa), the great economic myth was to dam the Burdekin River - a mighty river in full and unimpeded flood. Then one day it did get built. The pictures above are from a gallery of pictures of the current North Queensland floods which can be accessed at The Townsville Bulletin website.

Spent a bit of time on the phone yesterday afternoon checking family were OK. My son is OK - he lives in South Townsville and it does not seem to be affected by the flooding where he is - but then that is near the mouth of the Ross River. Similarly with my friends Don and Pam who also live in South Townsville. Spoke to my sister-in-law - and they're OK. Although my niece had to go home from work (Telstra) mid afternoon because their multi-storey building in South Townsville was leaking.

My niece's home backs down to Ross River just below the Ross River Dam so I think there will be plenty of people getting out their tyres for a float down the river .The pictures of streets in Thuringowa underwater (ie Rivergum Court and Alan John and Yvette Streets) bring no element of surprise. Actually surprised Hammond Way was not rating a mention. Some of those areas should never have been built upon.

We assume from the location of the flooding that the unit Herself used to own in Hyde Park has gone under again - it has flooded twice before. There are pumps that service the drainage system in that area but they habitually fail for one reason or another. So - as you can see from The Bulletin's gallery - a lot of people (with the exception of those with damaged vehicles) are enjoying the fun in typical North Queensland fashion.

Water, water everywhere in the Outer East.

The previous post was talking about our lack of water and water restrictions. Clearly, a day is a long time in weather and climate. This afternoon, there was no shortage of water in the Outer Eastern suburbs of Melbourne. Huge downpours this afternoon and flash flooding all over the place.

For the first time in three years, the creek in front of our house is full and flowing: flowing fast, in fact.

Snow snapping cold

Can I have what he's having?

John So, Lord Mayor of Melbourne in a traditional Wurundjeri possum-skin cloak (Jiawei Shen, 2005 Archibald Prize Finalist)

In south-eastern Australia, where winters can be very cold, Aboriginal people kept warm with possum-skin cloaks. Check out this ancient craft here. After a life-time in tropical and sub-tropical climes, Miss Eagle still feels the cold in Melbourne even though this is her third winter here. So she could really, truly do with a possum skin cloak.

Forest Glade Cottage, Olinda : St Matthew's Anglican Church, Mount Dandenong


Will this be what it will be like up the road in The Dandenongs this afternoon? Last night, here at Upper Gully, it was like sleeping in a wind tunnel. Cocooned from wind with an electric blanket, a doona, a minky, a Rose and a FootFoot maybe - but oh the howling, noisy wind.

A little while ago it started to rain.

The Age carries this story. They are calling it a cold snap! What do they think we have been having for the last ten days! A fortnight ago from last Friday this was the scene as I breakfasted beside Lake Wendouree. My weekend in Ballarat was oh-so-cold. But here is the picture in The Age to-day just a short step away from my breakfast place:

Brrrrrrrrr!

Steamy but sunny and chilly at Upper Gully

There has been a good bit of very welcome rain at Upper Gully in the last few days. This morning the sun got up and heralds a clear day. The fence, as you can see, is still very wet and -with the warmth of the sun on this chilly morning - steam is rising.

Warning! A whinge on wind

Please be warned this is a rant. Miss Eagle is ranting about the weather - Melbourne weather. Now, for those outside Australia, you need to know that Melbourne is notorious for its weather. Four seasons in one day. Conversation about the weather - because there is so much of it to talk about.

But Monday has been a piercingly cold day and then came increasing wind. And it is the wind, dear Reader, that drives Miss Eagle to distraction, towards madness, into grumpiness and now a rant. It is not only the force of the wind, not only the penetration of the wind, it is the noise of the wind.

Miss Eagle has lived through a few tropical cyclones in her lifetime and that is the only time - other than with Melbourne wind - that she has heard such noise associated with wind. And at 6.10pm out went the lights at Upper Gully not to come on until 7pm. So candles were lit, the camping fluoro came out for the kitchen, and meal preparation went ahead because we have a gas stove. And still the wind came, the noise came.

And so to bed with a book - Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver - and the electric blanket: shut-eye to shut out the wind. Miss Eagle is now awake in the early hours of Tuesday morning. The wind is subsiding along with the noise and the rain commences. Perhaps if your correspondent cared or dared to look out into the blackness she would find that the full moon is nowhere to be seen, hidden by bank upon bank of cloud.

And it is not just the wind of winter, it is the gloom of winter. Midday yesterday Miss Eagle looked at the lemony sunlight sitting on Melbourne's mountains beyond the northern suburbs under thick layers of grey cloud. It occurred to her that this lemony sunlight was familiar - it was the sort of colour that precedes sunrise in northern Australia yet this was noonish!

When this goes on for days, Miss Eagle is overtaken by S.A.D. - seasonal affective disorder. Not enought sunlight - certainly nowhere near enough for a girl from the tropics. Now Miss Eagle is not suggesting she has the deep melancholia of Finland (for Finnish insights see Anni Heino's blog, Mayday) but it is the blahs - only more so. To counter this Miss Eagle lights up the lights. The office where she blogs is well lit but on the desk is a fluorescent lamp and there is also a very bright standard lamp. Overlit the room may be, but it is an attempt to alleviate the symptoms.

There is a beautiful winter: the clearness of the Whitsundays; the view from Townsville's Melton Hill on a crisp tropical winter's day with air so clear you can almost see the people walking on the jetty at Picnic Bay on Magnetic Island; the stillness of the waters off Port Douglas. Oh, my beloved Capricornia, why can't I be with you!