Under a hotter Sun; Summer means Summer;

Christmas is just a around the corner and here it appears just at the beginning of summer. It has sneaked up on me without warning. I have not bought any presents for the children and we don't have a Christmas tree either. I am so occupied with all what is happening now and it doesn't feel like Christmas anyway. The children don't say anything about presents and a Christmas tree. They seem not to miss it either or am I kidding myself and they are just not telling me. I do feel guilty for not providing the customary Christmas treats this year. In the shops are kind of strange Christmas decorations with colourful balloons hanging from artificial greenery. Everywhere Christmas tunes are played.
The sad thing is it does not feel like Christmas at all. I think I am homesick and I feel sorry for myself, which is the worst because it won’t help me feel better. Perhaps I feel like this because we have not yet a proper home. I have to shake myself out of this situation, I feel so lost in all this newness.

“Our "next-door" neighbours Norman and Norma and their four children have come by and invited us for Christmas lunch.
We drive to their homestead which stands on the highest point of their property. One of the children has to get out and open and close a few gates before we arrive on top of the hill.
Norma and Norman are a very nice family. Very straight forward and no frills. They and their ancestors have always lived and worked in this region. They have lots of relatives and know practically everybody around. They have two girls and two boys. The boys, are about the same age as our girls. The girls a few years older. They live in a old, cosy "Queenslander" what the traditional houses are called here. I am impressed by a big Figtree loaded with fruits just at the entrance of the house. My mouth waters just by looking at this tree. Norma said help yourself, yes thank you very much I will.
Norma and her two girls, 17 and 15 have prepared and cooked a beautiful Christmas lunch. The kitchen is very nice, decorated with many small porcelain figurines. The table was already set with her best china. We ate roast and grilled chicken and vegetables, lots of cups of tea to wash it all down. Dessert was an elaborate concoction called a "trifle" which is a bit a misnomer for this dessert. It was served individually in neat, small porcelain bowls. On the bottom a layer of cake saturated with brandy, colourful green and red, Christmas colours, Jelly cubes and to top it up a silky vanilla custard with some candied fruits. It was in a way what I knew as creme diplomat. Norma had also made Christmas treats like Coconut Ice in different colours which is a popular sweet. The rumballs also very scrumptious did not find approval with Jacky. I saw her taking it out of her mouth and throwing it out of the window behind her. Back home I reprimanded her for behaving not properly. Jacky cheerfully replied, it was Mrs. Connors idea, she said if you don't like it throw it out to the dogs. There were a few cattle dogs congregating before the kitchen to wait for the odd morsel. In the late afternoon, after sitting together comfortably and chatting, trying on both parts to make sense of what we were saying, we said goodbye and thanked them for their hospitality.

Summer has settled on us....the sun an awesome white-hot sphere simmers everything in its reach spreading an opalescent haze. Already the morning heats up with astonishing speed. By midday the heat puddles like lava over everything. Birds and animals are hiding in the deepest shady spots, bodies relaxed and silent.

Summer brings orchestras of cicadas lashing their music to every tree. With a mighty force they sing relentless day and night. The bush reverberates within their sound, tempo, forte always crescendo.

Summer brings hordes of insects. Ants and more ants, tiny ones, jumping ones, black and green iridescent, and more, all are armed with vicious little pincers ready to attack at the least disturbance. Some bunch and glue together leaves on tree and shrub branches. Unexpectedly I come into contact with their nest and disturb them the slightest bit they will drop on me attack like furies and bite me wherever they can.

The jumping ants are about one centimetre long they live under leave litter and are quite happy living there as long as I don’t come into contact with their pursuits. They are very quick jumping and burying their pincers into my skin, this protective action, leaves me to nurse a painful bite for quite a while. I am rather an expert by now I have experienced their defences often enough when innocently coming into contact with their dwelling and it is always I who runs.
The tiny red and black ones invaded my dwelling and I declared war on them that was not at all in perspective with these tiny marauders. But, as the saying goes “all is fair in love and war.” They made my kitchen their own; they glean any morsel they can carry, sometimes double their size pushing and shoving they march in single file into their one hundred and one hiding places. I tried my heaviest ammunition they are always back.

I saw them busily like a red train, nothing stands in their way, and they overcome any hurdle, with tiny feet hurry along my kitchen bench. I followed their train; it went into a bookcase their nest hidden in our music. They chose Mendelssohn’s a Midsummer Nights Dream. Naturally in my war mood they got short thrift and their dream home destroyed.

Copyright T.S.

Under a hotter Sun; Who likes spiders?

Summer is the time of life for spiders. I have no arachnophobia. Yet one day I was really scared. I was picking the last beans bending over the rows when I suddenly spotted something unfamiliar. I had heard horror stories about them but never actually seen them until now. Hiding between the green beans I was just about to pick was a whole cluster of “red backs.” Shiny black with its red stripe, nature’s warning, keep off. They are very dangerous, their bite means death without antidote. It is uncanny the shock you get by nearly touching them. I fled the rows of beans ignoring bowl and spilled vegetables where I threw them in my hasty get away. I had Peter destroy the cluster. I was cautious in the veggie patch aware there could be more yet with time my encounter with the "Red backs" went into oblivion. Later we found some in our garage and also in a part of the ornamental garden were I was working. We thought they were brought with tiles, bricks and wood.

The next encounter with “Red backs” was in a small ornamental border near the entrance gate. The border was a riot of seeding weeds and it was time to get rid of the weeds and plant some native grasses and small bushes. Some time before, at an earlier attempt to clean this area I had spotted a cluster of “Red backs” between the tangled vegetation. That was the reason why I was not keen to go in back there to clean it up. Since then some time had elapsed and the fear of the “Red backs” had receded and was not centred in my mind anymore. I had all my implements ready, small trowel, secateurs, and my wheelbarrow to fill with the discarded plants and weeds, only my gardening gloves were missing and I was to lazy to go back to the house to fetch them. I was tearing out armful of weeds and dead plants, pruning others to give them a new lease of life, when I suddenly felt a tiny prick on my finger. One look at my finger showed a small white moon and two tiny holes. At the same time my whole hand started to throb and really hurt. I nursed my hand and my first thought was has a “red back” bitten me? Frantically I looked for signs of “red backs” where I just had weeded. I didn’t find any. My hand was still hurting a lot and there was also a light swelling. Then I thought has a snake bitten me? There were always plenty of red-bellied black snakes or whip snakes whose bite could also be potentially dangerous. By now I was really scared, as Peter was not around the house he was on his tractor slashing the grass on the property somewhere. No way of calling him. The next neighbours were miles away and the girls were at school. I went into the house and plunged my hand under the water, then took some ice from the freezer and bandaged the ice around my hand. I knew if a dangerous snake or spider bit me, I would have to drive myself to Maclean hospital that was about 30 kilometres from our place. I was also looking for the little book we kept that told how the body reacted to different poisons. While I was making all sorts of plans, at this time we didn’t have a phone, so I couldn’t ring anybody and ask. While all this was happening in my mind I surprisingly felt that my hand didn’t throb anymore. I peeled it from its icy bandage, the pain had subsided and my breathing was normal again. There were still the two tiny pinpricks.
A white spider or other spiders I have made connections with might have bitten me.
Numerous spiders, ants or the native wasps have nipped me but luckily never real harm was done.
My first encounter with one big spider, a huntsman, which I didn’t know at the time, I will never forget, because everybody who was there said it was so funny. When at the time it was not funny at all because I was so scared. I was so scared I had my pants literally around my ankles.
We were all together plus a few helping hands up at the new stockyard where we had some cattle for inspection. I was standing innocently on the road near the stockyard
Looking over to the men and the girls handling some calves. When suddenly this immense Spider, probably disturbed, ran over the road directly towards me up my boots under my jeans. I have never in my life taken off my pants so quickly. The men inclusive Peter and the girls were laughing their heads off seeing me their in my underpants, contorting and searching frantically for the spider which I didn’t find. My replies were not friendly towards the bunch of laughing faces.
In Summer Daddy Long Legs live with us in our home. They sit in their tangled, fine retreats waiting for their food. Under their webs lays always the detritus of their meals waiting to be swept up. They are no harm whatsoever to humans but can easily kill a Red back or Huntsman spider.
The Huntsman spiders live with us in the house.. We always call them Charlie. A big one can be greater than a hand span. They live behind Furniture, scurrying upside down on walls and ceilings from room to room. We leave them alone, they have never harmed us.
In the garden the distinct spindle shaped egg sacs of the Magnificent spider hang like Christmas decorations from branches of shrubs and trees. The spider itself is rarely seen it hides his jewelled body well. This spider and his spindles are very special to me like a present from nature. There are many more spiders in my garden that I covet and admire.
The golden Orb-weaver spins her huge, untidy structures across trees and bushes and over pathways where I am caught many times with the sticky web in my hair. Her fat, striped body with long legs in golden stockings waits usually in the middle of her golden, silky trap. She also employs an array of her children that also lay in waiting for the poor victims that are not aware that not all is gold that glitters.
Early in the morning the webs sparkle with myriads of tiny drops of moisture, like intricate crocheted doilies hung out to dry between the branches of shrubs.

Copyright T.S.

Photos T.S.

Under a hotter Sun; Taffy alias Davey;

Taffy;
We didn’t understand much about horses and agreed with his suggestions. It didn’t take long and a horse and a saddle were delivered to us. Les told us the name of the horse and we understood something like Taffy that was then unfamiliar to us so we called him Davey.
This was the day when Taffy alias Davey started his life with us on “Little Gem”, and we were quite unaware what tricks he would be able to play on us. He was a lovely horse who knew its own mind. The girls had already had some riding lessons that they had received from Boyd a retired stock man and horse trainer. Marie-Louise took charge of Davey and his saddle. With lots of care and love he was pampered and brushed. His hooves that had grown long were cut and polished with oil. Poor Davey hadn’t had so much attention for a long time.
When she wanted to go riding Davey had to be bribed with a blue bucket containing oats.

When he saw the blue bucket he forgot to run away and then could be saddled.
Sometimes she would come home walking, yelling and swearing because Davey had wandered off and left her stranded far out on the property.
He was a good stock horse when mustering the cattle he knew all he had to do, when he was in the mood. I think he knew when he first saw us that we were suckers, he owned us and let us pretty well know the situation.

When he arrived he was left in a small paddock to get acclimatised. Four railings closed of the paddock. It didn’t take long and Davey had opened all the railings and was proudly emerging and wandering off.
We took him back in his paddock and closed the railing. Each railing was also tied with a string. In the night I saw suddenly a huge black shape going past the bedroom window. I was flabbergasted what was out there? I wakened Peter and told him to have a look outside. Davey was gently grazing and munching on the short grass outside our bedroom window. Davey had opened the strings and the railings and made again an escape. We were really hard thinking about naming him Houdini. Later we watched him how nimbly he was able to use his lips to open gates and railings and even knots in strings.

He really liked to eat the heads of thistles. Those heads are so prickly one can hardly hold them with ones fingers. Davey would gently nip them from their stems and then slowly turn them around in his mouth until softened and ready to be chewed and swallowed. He also liked the small figs that grew on a giant Morton Bay Fig tree. He especially loved them when they were already fermenting. When he had eaten his full he acted very strangely. He galloped around, threw his hind legs high up, whinnied and snorted, behaved completely out of context as he was usually a quiet, friendly horse.

We bought a small rowing boat named “Kmisitsch”, as it was said that it was bad luck to leave even the smallest of boats unnamed. It was generally left down by the river. Out of no particular reason Marie-Louise thought of bringing it up to the shed. She fastened the boat with a rope to Davey’s saddle. She jumped into the saddle and Davey went ahead and pulled the boat. For a while this went quite well. As the boat tumbled over stones and gave up tinny sounds the horse got agitated and tried to look back what was actually following him.
They came to the upper paddock where Marie-Louise had to leave the saddle to go and open the railings to get through. I was in the kitchen and suddenly heard this tremendous noise, crashing and splintering of wood. I ran fast out onto the veranda to see what happened. I just saw Davey jumping over the railings the boat still attached to him crashed into the railings the anchor flew over his head and landed in the soft turf. The impact of the crush released the rope attached to the saddle and Davey took off as fast as he could run. Since then whenever he saw the tinnie, Davey took great precautions not to come in any way in contact with it again.
I have never been on a horseback. Marie-Louise said:" come on mum" and saddled the horse for me to go riding. I was out of my depth I knew nothing about horses, they scare me. I just knew the front from the back of a horse.
To my amazement I liked to be carried in a rhythmic, slow trot over the property. I had a good view from the saddle and could go near the cattle without them being frightened. There was just one small problem. Davey always took me half way down to the river and then he turned around. No persuasion what so ever made him go further. After a few minutes hesitation he took me straight back home. My horse riding skills were absolute useless. When mustering cattle I was usually send far away from the action.

Under a hotter Sun; The River;

The River
Dark and secret, it flows slowly past our western boundary. It is a big attraction for the girls and I. We swim in it on hot summer days. So we are always a bit apprehensive what sort of creatures are hiding in the deep, especially when we heard rumours there were sometimes sharks coming up from the Clarence into this sidearm. As it was so dark, very warm and caressing it was just like it was thicker than normal water, odd! When one of the waterbirds suddenly came up from the deep and its head just popped over the surface, we would squeal and shout, a snake! The girls dived deep down to the riverbed and said it was all rocky. I didn’t dare to dive but I went swimming and I was always a little scared. I must have had an absurd look on my face, delight because it was bliss to bathe in this natural Jacuzzi and trepidation from the unknown creatures waiting to grab me. There was always a plop from a turtle or a water dragon that rushed back into the water. Sometimes a real snake would swim past and we all swam fast and scrambled quickly to the safe shore.

The girls have caught a huge catfish. Peter said shall we cook it for lunch? We were all sitting in the small gangway veranda around the electric frying pan watching this big fish sizzling. It was raining buckets, like all the heavens had opened their sluice gates. The rain came down in glistening sheets I had never seen it rain like this. It was hot and humid and very comforting and satisfying to hear the water splashing and drumming on the tin roof of the house. The fish was by now swimming in its own fat. It didn't look very appetising. It took a while until this big fish was cooked. When we gingerly tried it, it smelled a tad of mud and was a bit tough, stringy and full of bones.. Each of us ate just a little bit. We heard a car arrive it was Leslie a very nice man who owned this farm before us. He asked are you eating a catfish, because he spotted the whiskery remains quickly.
I said yes and it is not as good as people let us believe it would be. He was amused and said that we cooked the wrong catfish. There is a catfish that is very palatable. I am sure when he told the story at home they had a good laugh. Leslie came by because he had heard through the grapevine, again, that we were looking for a quiet
stock horse for the girls to ride. He said he knew a nice, quiet horse for sale with a saddle. We trusted him and agreed to buy his stock horse by the name of "Taffy".

Copyright T.S..

Photos T.S.

Under a hotter Sun; The big clean up;

The bulls;

The big clean up.

The grassland around the home paddock looked messy, strewn with discarded roof iron sheets, bricks, broken tools, wooden, broken carts, rusted cars with and without wheels, many old water tanks with rust holes in them lots and lots of sherry flagons who probably kept a few of the McPhee ancestors happy. Tangled fencing material and fallen trees brought by we don't know how many previous floods ago. Peter had to call a bulldozer to make a few big holes in the ground to bury everything.

Peter had already bought a tractor, bright orange, his toy, and a slasher to cut the old grasses.
The Rep., Gary was his name, came many times until Peter had bought all the machinery he needed. He would always stay near the window, look out into the countryside and say:" Lovely view, nice cup of tea. My wife she is a funny lady, a funny lady, nice cup of tea. These sentences he repeated many times but we have never found out why his wife was a funny lady, so he drank his cups of tea!

Peter went down to the river where the grass and weeds were man high to clean up a field to make it ready to sow new grasses. The good news about floods is that they deposit silt and this makes the very sought after alluvial soils on river banks.
Peter and the tractor were hidden in the tall vegetation. From time to time when the
front wheels hit a hidden object the tractor would rear up like an angry beast! He had to drive very, very slowly not to cause an accident. One other field also along the river was already planted with corn. It looked a bit bedraggled but it would be harvested later on. The mending of fences would take a long time and contractors were already scheduled in the new year to come to dig the post holes and help in general. The wooden posts are very heavy and most of them had to be replaced. All the fences were in a sorry state.

A new stockyard had to be build for the cattle to be checked and for treatment and as well for loading and unloading. So there was very much activity going on little Gem. People from around the area liked to come and have a look what was going on. They always asked have you got money from Switzerland. They thought we had this Swiss bank account which would spew out the money when ever we needed or wanted some. This sort of arrangement would have been nice.

A part of the riverbank is badly overgrown with huge weeds and a lot of bamboo. So Peter thinks the fastest way to clean this up would be to burn it. As soon as the fire was lit, we got scared, it burnt with lightening speed and the bamboo started to explode. It sounded like a very, very noisy Chinese New Year fireworks. We tried to stem the fire with buckets of water....we got very hot, dirty and tired, until the flames were brought under control. Next time we have to be more careful.

Under a hotter Sun; Buying the herd;

Buying the herd;

Summer was well on its way.
We had the property and were very keen to buy a herd of cattle before Christmas.
This was the holiday season and it would bring a halt to our endeavours until the end of January if we didn’t hurry and buy the cattle now.
Our Stock and Station Agent rang that he would pick us up on Monday morning at seven a.m. to go out to Jackadgery to select the cattle. He had to leave his message at the milk bar and take-away shop of Hazel and Alex, as we were not yet connected to the Telephone.
We were ready at the appropriate time when Ross and Ray arrived in a Ford Vehicle
and picked us up.
It would be a long drive and the morning promised a hot day.
After about one and a half hours drive mainly through heavily timbered bush, Ross stopped the car at a pleasant place near a fast flowing small River. He rummaged in his boot to come out with a big Esky filled with sandwiches neatly stashed in a plastic box and Thermos flasks of tea. . Peter and I hadn’t eaten breakfast as we were too exited, so the Sandwiches and tea were a welcome break. Soon we returned to the car and the trip continued.
Peter and I hadn’t been to this rather wild and densely forested hills. The bitumen road gave way to a dirt road. The car didn’t have air-conditioning so all the windows were down and clouds of red dust left a film on our moist skin. I was wearing a nice dress but it was not cotton so it was clinging like a second skin and itchy. The seat of the car didn’t help either as it was made of artificial leather that got hot as well. I tried discretely to scratch my burning skin and felt I was peeling myself as layers of red dust came away.
After another hour we arrived at Charlie Smith’s property where we were to choose our cattle. Most of the cattle were already in the stockyard. Ray and some helpers were ready on their horses to drive the ones we choose to a holding paddock until they could be transported to our place. We went to the stockyard to have a look at the cattle. They were nice animals.
The cows each had a calf at foot and were also pregnant. The cattle market was down and prices were low. That’s why Charlie had to sell his cows. We agreed to a price it was seventy-five Dollars a cow with the calf. Ross our agent said if we really wanted we could go lower. But Peter thought seventy-five Dollars for a cow with calf was pretty good and he said he didn’t want to put more pressure on the chap who had to sell his farm and his cattle. So everybody was happy and the selection began.

Peter was in his element choosing the cows while Ross and Ray with their longstanding experience was giving the nod of approval or not. It took quite a while until Peter had chosen the cows he wanted. He also chose a nice looking bull that he on the spot christened Willie. I would dearly have loved to know what the tough cattlemen thought about that. Their faces didn’t show any amusement just in their eyes was a little glint.
The rest of the cows were let out of the holding yard and while they were crowding out Peter saw one that he thought he had selected. He ran towards the cattle waving his arms in the air and shouting I want the dark brown one as well. This action frightened the herd so much they were running in all directions it was nearly a stampede. The cattle that live free in the bush are very shy and frightened towards people when not seated on a horse or in a car. Peter didn’t know this and the men had a good laugh at him.
After all the mustering was finished Charlie said to Peter that the Hereford cattle might not do as well in the lowlands as they do up in the hills. Peter said he was aware of this. Also Ross and other cattlemen told him it would be better to settle for Angus cattle. It was true the Herefords in the hills were healthy looking with a shiny red coat. Where we lived they didn’t look that great their fur was dull and shaggy. Peter loved the Herefords. He was going to find out what ailed them on the lowlands his scientific mind was ready to tackle a challenge.

The next day a cattle truck arrived with our herd. It was very exiting and we all went to the old dairy where the cattle were to be unloaded. We didn’t have yet build a stockyard so the truck was backed towards a small hill where the cows and calves could jump down from the truck. Willie the bull was last. He was reluctant to jump down. He had a reputation to maintain and it was not a very dignified sight the heavy bull jumping from the truck. In the end with a few probes with a stick into his backside from the truck driver he thought better of it and jumped. The cattle let out a cacophony of bellows and ear-splitting noise to orientate themselves and their calves. They were running everywhere especially up to the gate where they had entered on the truck. It was getting dark and Peter was afraid that they would jump the fence and get lost somewhere. The next day very early in the morning we went to look for them. We had not far to go they were all assembled at the old dairy like for a morning roll call. The cattle had forgotten their stress and settled down. Now we heard only the odd bah-bah of a calf looking for its mother. Willie was in the middle of his ladies looking proud and imposing.

One night in the first week when we had the cattle we were rudely woken up by loud knocks on the door and were taken from our dreams. I must say here that is was probably only about ten o clock. We went early to bed, as we were awfully tired in the evening, from doing all this outdoor work that we were not used to. We jumped out of bed and worried what had happened. The two Johnson brothers were standing outside the door and told us that some cows from us were in the river. Peter had to get the tractor, ropes and the torch that was unfortunately very low. It was very hard work to get the cows out of the water, especially at night under a lot of swearing on Peter’s side the Johnson Brothers didn’t swear, the cows were rescued. We thanked them for their help, as we could have lost those cattle.
The next morning Peter started to fence the river off so we wouldn’t have that mishap
again.

Copyright T.S.

Under a hotter Sun; The grazing property; The bush; Trees are happiness;

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.