The grazing property
This was our first inspection of our new property. Everything was new and interesting. We were getting ready for a walk up to the densely vegetated bush. Peter had instructed us to be very careful of snakes and dangerous insects. We all wore two pairs of socks and high laced up boots. So we were soon ready, well shod and also each carried a wooden stick for our walk into the unknown. I didn’t really know what the stick was for, but I soon discovered the stick was very handy to keep cobwebs away, which kept attaching to my face in long sticky strands. We walked in single file, first Peter then the girls and I making up the tail. Peter was also instructing us to stamp with one foot from time to time to vibrate the ground to disperse any approaching snakes. There was so much to see and look that we forgot to stamp our feet. The heat was penetrating the thick growth and we were hot in our protective gear. There were different places; some were dense with vegetation. Others open, small glades with tall Eucalyptus trees. As we wandered on we came to an enchanted place. The sun barley penetrated the thicket. There was a dark secretive Billabong, a water hole, as we approached we heard several blob blobs and something disappearing into the dark water. Later we discovered that the blobs were turtles rushing into the water. There were also eastern water dragons running from us on long legs and plunging into the water. This time we were only exploring a small part on the eastern side of our property. We soon turned around, as it was very hot. We thought to come back at another time when it was cooler.
On the southern boundary was a canal with a floodgate that could be operated, as was necessary to let water flow in or out. Sometimes cattlemen from the next farm would throw in to the canal a dead cow or calf. We thought this was nasty and very unhygienic. Yet after a few days nothing of the cow was seen. We wondered why until we discovered huge, arm thick eels enjoying themselves. The eels were safe from us!
The girls became quickly familiar with the property. They were very inquisitive and went exploring by themselves. They found one place just full with pebbles and an underground water source. There was a little stream gurgling up from the underground. They digged there to search for gold but all they found was fools gold. They found stone tools used by aboriginal people. They left them where they found them they were not theirs to take.
We had a visitor who wanted to have a look over our property. He mounted his motorbike and was off in a flash before Peter could warn him about certain hazards to look out for. He was driving at high speed towards a drain probably about one meter deep.
We were shouting and waving our arms but he didn’t hear us above the noise of his motorbike and he couldn’t see us as he was driving away from us. We could only look
on what was happening. His motorbike dived into the drain he was thrown up into the air his arms outstretched then he made a salto and vanished too into the drain. We were stunned, we ran towards him but he was already crawling out of the drain shaking his head. Fortunately he didn’t come to any harm and relieved we laughed at his stunt ready for the circus.
Left the old dairy. The bush
I gazed at this odd strip of wilderness hanging on to the eastern boundary of our grazing land. My eyes drilled to lush greens stared at this untidy mass of trees and scrub in their subtle dusty shades of blue –grey, olive green, above it the relentless blue sky dulls it all to a plain, stubborn stillness. I turned away with a sigh, oh well the real estate agent told us, that this part of the property, he called it the bush, was very valuable for the cattle to shelter from the extremes of nature which in time we would also experience. Shelter from sun or rain, in flood times as this ground was fairly high above the river and finally it also provided food.
Day in day out the grey green wall of vegetation mocked me, challenged me to come and look, to appreciate the difference, to observe the changes through the seasons. At this time of year it appeared hot, dry and thirsty. The leaves are hard and unyielding. Yet when my fingers crush the tough membranes they release a scent of peppermint or lemon their fragrance perfuming the air. The leaves rustle softly by the faintest touches of air whispering their secrets. Before I went to bed I looked through the kitchen window to the bush hidden in the shadows of darkness.
Trees are happiness
I made forays to discover the mysteries, the secrets, the hidden beauty of the Australian bush. I carry a small book with pictures to look up the names of Australian trees and plants from this region.
A grove of Eucalyptus trees was my first find. Spotted Gums, Scribbly Gums, their trunks go on forever scratching the clouds. The spotted Gums have beautiful colourful markings. The bark is very smooth under my fingers. It cracks and I can prise it open to reveal a new juvenile beginning as soft as silk of muted colours, pale mint, blue, grey and pink, dressed like this no wonder this tree reaches for the sky.
The scribbly Gum is like a relic from the past sporting up and down, around its trunk, stories written by tiny insects scratching, scratching day in day out for endless times. No one knows what they are writing about it will stay forever an enigma! The flowers are unique too, popping out of their casings revealing glistening white bristly stamens with gold overlaid. They are an important food source for myriads of insects, birds, bats and small animals.
A dead branch suddenly falls off, a widow-maker, crashes and shatters on the floor nearly hitting me. To my amazement a tiny creature, a pigmy Possum stunned and shocked by the sudden fall of its home, lands on my hand. I hold it gently, it takes not long and it is off quick as a flash. I think this is once in a lifetime to have the opportunity to hold one of these rare, very shy creatures.
In earlier times when timber men were working in the bush to cut down trees these sudden falling branches were called “widow-maker” by them, because many a times a man had lost his life that way and left his wife a widow.
Special favourites are the charming Acacias, also called Wattles, because they were used to build wattle and daub houses. There is one flowering for every month from bleached, pale yellow to golden sunshine. They stand out lightening up the countryside. Fluffy balls, mimosa scented, nestling or hanging in ropes from antic blue, ferny leaves showing their silvery undersides. Silver trees, Palace flowers, they stand out, lift up your spirits.
The Casuarinas or She-Oaks stand sentinel barley fluttering their dark, blue-green needle like foliage. Their branches loaded with stone hard, small cones holding seeds, which the black red-tailed cockatoos adore. Every day as long as they last they are feasting, screeching, flying from tree to tree to provide a wonderful spectacle.
The trunks of casuarinas are solidly carved objets d’art. They rival any man made sculpture. Under these trees nothing grows. The floor is thickly carpeted with its rust-brown needles.
Further away. Where the sun can get hold of the forest floor grow pockets of wildflowers.
Rice flowers their many miniscule florets forming a head. Hibbertias creeping along the floor, holding their yellow cup like flowers up to attract small black beetles searching for a meal.
Starlike, splendid blue Paroo- Lillis swaying on tall wiry stems ask to be picked.
Where the ground keeps moist I find small purple greenish ground orchids with nodding heads agreeing to anything. The bush is so alive yet when I look at it from my window it appears stern and unmoving, what a deception.
Paperbarks, their name a give away. The spongy bark clings in papery strips to the tree. Covering its attractive trunk and limbs in thick wads layer upon layer to protect the core of the tree from fire. This beautiful tree covered with its silvery, white flowers lets other trees gasp in frustration!
I could go on and on, one is more beautiful than the other; I just want to mention the Brachychitons with their tongue breaking pronunciation. Stately, tall trees with green bark, flower when there is not a leave in sight. It is not called for nothing Flame tree. Its fiery red bells hang in bundles from the branches smothering the whole canopy. Its sister has pink bells on silver grey limbs it is breathtakingly beautiful.
I want them all in my garden to worship their beauty to admire their sudden transformation; Australia’s trees its treasure.
Copyright T.S. 08
Photos T.s.
