Walking in the Wet

On December 21, our daughter Sarah Jane came up from Sydney and persuaded us to go on a trek to the Glowworm Tunnel, deep in the bushland northwest of our home. We drove for miles on dirt roads of questionable condition although our little Toyota Echo bounced cheerfully over the potholes and corrugations without any dire consequences. Arriving at a tunnel which turned out to be the wrong one, we set off on foot from there, and walked about 4 or 5 km to the actual Glowworm tunnel under threatening skies.

The track is the bed of an old railway: hence the tunnels, not to mention the easy grade. As it had been a rainy week, we passed several small waterfalls running off the rocks beside the track.



It had begun to drizzle by the time we reached this little bridge across a gully,
just before the dark, cold tunnel in which the glowworms reside. Having only a small flashlight between the three of us, we ventured in just far enough to see the first ones, sparkling on the walls. Of course, photos were impossible. Sarah Jane told us that the glowwworms spin tiny webs across crevices in the rock, and lurk behind them with their lights on to attract unwary insects on which they feed. Brighter than fireflies, they look like LED points of light against the surrounding velvet blackness of the tunnel.

On our return trek, the skies opened and we were drenched in the downpour. As we headed home to hot showers and dry clothes, we passed a tea tree (Leptospermum macrocarpum?) in full bloom, and later a couple of large grey kangaroos feeding on cleared land.


Despite the challenges of weather and terrain, it was a great way to spend an afternoon with much to see and appreciate.

Walking in the Wet

On December 21, our daughter Sarah Jane came up from Sydney and persuaded us to go on a trek to the Glowworm Tunnel, deep in the bushland northwest of our home. We drove for miles on dirt roads of questionable condition although our little Toyota Echo bounced cheerfully over the potholes and corrugations without any dire consequences. Arriving at a tunnel which turned out to be the wrong one, we set off on foot from there, and walked about 4 or 5 km to the actual Glowworm tunnel under threatening skies.

The track is the bed of an old railway: hence the tunnels, not to mention the easy grade. As it had been a rainy week, we passed several small waterfalls running off the rocks beside the track.



It had begun to drizzle by the time we reached this little bridge across a gully,
just before the dark, cold tunnel in which the glowworms reside. Having only a small flashlight between the three of us, we ventured in just far enough to see the first ones, sparkling on the walls. Of course, photos were impossible. Sarah Jane told us that the glowwworms spin tiny webs across crevices in the rock, and lurk behind them with their lights on to attract unwary insects on which they feed. Brighter than fireflies, they look like LED points of light against the surrounding velvet blackness of the tunnel.

On our return trek, the skies opened and we were drenched in the downpour. As we headed home to hot showers and dry clothes, we passed a tea tree (Leptospermum macrocarpum?) in full bloom, and later a couple of large grey kangaroos feeding on cleared land.


Despite the challenges of weather and terrain, it was a great way to spend an afternoon with much to see and appreciate.

Flowers in the Bushland

Mount Wilson is noted for its large homesteads with expansive English-style gardens. People visit for the flowering shrubs in spring and the autumn colours in - well - autumn. However, in the natural bushland there are shrubs and flowers that I find more interesting because they are new to me. On a hike last week, we came across drifts of flannel flowers (Arctotis helianthi), a lovely sight. I remember these flowers from my youth in this country and how soft and fleecy the bracts surrounding the pinhead flowers are to the touch. They are in the carrot family (Apiaceae), and are one of many plant groups that flourish after the bushfires that are prevalent in this region.

Although my photo of the habitat isn't very good, I'm including it to give an idea of the rough and seemingly inhospitable terrain that the flannel flowers seem to like.

We also noted a graceful shrub with black branches, bright green leaves and tufts of small, tubular, yellow flowers at the tips of the branches. Someone identified it to me as a Geebung so I was able to look it up and find that its botanical name is Persoonia, it's a member of the Protea family and it produces tasty fruit. Sadly, it is difficult to propagate either by seed or cuttings so it is not easy to obtain a plant for the garden.

The other significant thing about Mount Wilson is that it supports the kind of subtropical rainforest found only in particular pockets of the Blue Mountains. We walked through some of this lush jungle on our way back to a barbeque dinner at Merrygarth, one of the best of the English-style gardens of the area.

Flowers in the Bushland

Mount Wilson is noted for its large homesteads with expansive English-style gardens. People visit for the flowering shrubs in spring and the autumn colours in - well - autumn. However, in the natural bushland there are shrubs and flowers that I find more interesting because they are new to me. On a hike last week, we came across drifts of flannel flowers (Arctotis helianthi), a lovely sight. I remember these flowers from my youth in this country and how soft and fleecy the bracts surrounding the pinhead flowers are to the touch. They are in the carrot family (Apiaceae), and are one of many plant groups that flourish after the bushfires that are prevalent in this region.

Although my photo of the habitat isn't very good, I'm including it to give an idea of the rough and seemingly inhospitable terrain that the flannel flowers seem to like.

We also noted a graceful shrub with black branches, bright green leaves and tufts of small, tubular, yellow flowers at the tips of the branches. Someone identified it to me as a Geebung so I was able to look it up and find that its botanical name is Persoonia, it's a member of the Protea family and it produces tasty fruit. Sadly, it is difficult to propagate either by seed or cuttings so it is not easy to obtain a plant for the garden.

The other significant thing about Mount Wilson is that it supports the kind of subtropical rainforest found only in particular pockets of the Blue Mountains. We walked through some of this lush jungle on our way back to a barbeque dinner at Merrygarth, one of the best of the English-style gardens of the area.

Still More Birds

When I'm working in the garden, this black and white currawong frequently approaches, on the lookout for any juicy morsel I might turn up. Currawongs are members of the crow family and just as intelligent. They do, however, have a much more melodious call than crows, a ripple of notes sounding like their name.
And a crimson rosella has begun visiting the vacant lot next door to snack on grass seedheads. It's not as tolerant of my presence so my photo is not nearly as good, being taken rather hastily before it flew off.

Still More Birds

When I'm working in the garden, this black and white currawong frequently approaches, on the lookout for any juicy morsel I might turn up. Currawongs are members of the crow family and just as intelligent. They do, however, have a much more melodious call than crows, a ripple of notes sounding like their name.
And a crimson rosella has begun visiting the vacant lot next door to snack on grass seedheads. It's not as tolerant of my presence so my photo is not nearly as good, being taken rather hastily before it flew off.

More marauders

After my last post, cousin Sal sent me this snap of a well-camouflaged lorikeet snacking on her peach tree. Memo to self: don't even attempt to grow peaches!

More marauders

After my last post, cousin Sal sent me this snap of a well-camouflaged lorikeet snacking on her peach tree. Memo to self: don't even attempt to grow peaches!

Birthday Card

I had a birthday this month and as usual my darling husband gave me a one-of-a-kind birthday card. This year it depicts the unique travails of gardening in Australia. The experience depicted hasn't actually happened to me yet, but I fear it will, especially as I've just received an email from my cousin Sal who reports that a flock of lorikeets descended upon her apricot tree this week, leaving no harvest for her.

Birthday Card

I had a birthday this month and as usual my darling husband gave me a one-of-a-kind birthday card. This year it depicts the unique travails of gardening in Australia. The experience depicted hasn't actually happened to me yet, but I fear it will, especially as I've just received an email from my cousin Sal who reports that a flock of lorikeets descended upon her apricot tree this week, leaving no harvest for her.

Gardens at Bilpin

A week ago I went to two open gardens in Bilpin, an area of the Blue Mountains noted for its apple orchards. Both gardens were large, one around the homestead on a Black Angus cattle stud. Unfortunately, I forgot to dig out the camera for that one, but had a good time chatting with the owner who very kindly gave me a scrap of a stunning Dianthus that I was admiring. This is where the annual Plant Collectors' Fair is held in April, so I'll be back then, if not before, to spend some money.
The other garden on about 5 acres is a labour of love by one man, who began with a modest border alongside the road, and gradually extended to sunny rockeries around the house, then pathways winding through woodland and down quite a steep slope to a clearing where he has constructed an elaborate knot garden enclosing hundreds of Colchicum (not in bloom at this time of year.) The steepness of the terrain and how he had dealt with it reminded me of Margaret and Charlie's garden in Indian Arm, particularly as there were many Rhododendrons and Kalmia, interspersed in this case with native tree ferns and eucalyptus. I remembered to take some photos this time. The first two give an idea of the hillside and the wonderful effects of sunlight filtering down through tall Brown Barrel eucalypts. In the second picture, a young Cornus controversa hogs the spotlight.




A view of the knot garden seen through tree trunks on the hillside.



The grass on one side of the clearing where the knot garden lies is overhung by the wide-spreading branches of Brown Barrel eucalypts. The other side is contained by a long low hedge of Fothergilla monticola



The rock garden was impressive when viewed from below against a blue sky, although the camera does not capture the steepness of the slope.

Gardens at Bilpin

A week ago I went to two open gardens in Bilpin, an area of the Blue Mountains noted for its apple orchards. Both gardens were large, one around the homestead on a Black Angus cattle stud. Unfortunately, I forgot to dig out the camera for that one, but had a good time chatting with the owner who very kindly gave me a scrap of a stunning Dianthus that I was admiring. This is where the annual Plant Collectors' Fair is held in April, so I'll be back then, if not before, to spend some money.
The other garden on about 5 acres is a labour of love by one man, who began with a modest border alongside the road, and gradually extended to sunny rockeries around the house, then pathways winding through woodland and down quite a steep slope to a clearing where he has constructed an elaborate knot garden enclosing hundreds of Colchicum (not in bloom at this time of year.) The steepness of the terrain and how he had dealt with it reminded me of Margaret and Charlie's garden in Indian Arm, particularly as there were many Rhododendrons and Kalmia, interspersed in this case with native tree ferns and eucalyptus. I remembered to take some photos this time. The first two give an idea of the hillside and the wonderful effects of sunlight filtering down through tall Brown Barrel eucalypts. In the second picture, a young Cornus controversa hogs the spotlight.




A view of the knot garden seen through tree trunks on the hillside.



The grass on one side of the clearing where the knot garden lies is overhung by the wide-spreading branches of Brown Barrel eucalypts. The other side is contained by a long low hedge of Fothergilla monticola



The rock garden was impressive when viewed from below against a blue sky, although the camera does not capture the steepness of the slope.

The Melbourne Cup

Australia's famous horse race took place on Tuesday. This is a great national event when everybody, and I mean everybody, stops work to watch or listen to the race. In the state of Victoria, it's a holiday. Elsewhere, every workplace has a sweep, a sort of raffle where you draw a horse, or horses, at random and chip in a bit of money. The resulting pot is divided among first, second, third, and last placegetters. Those who don't have a workplace, like us, have a choice of places to go and party, from clubs to hotels to community halls. We went to one of the last, the Mt Wilson village hall, to a lunch organised by my sister-in-law Judy and other locals. In the sweep, Michael drew the eventual winner, an outside chance by the appropriate name of "Efficient", so having invested the grand sum $6 on three tickets, we came home with $12. How good is that? as the Aussies like to say. The 2-mile long race was an exciting one this year as "Efficient", a striking dark-grey horse in a field of predominantly chestnuts, came streaking down the outside on the home straight to just beat out a chestnut called "Purple Moon".
In the course of watching the event on a large screen, I came across some unfamiliar words that I had to look up. Trifecta, Quinella and Exacta all describe certain betting tactics. If you bet the Trifecta, you select the first three horses in the exact order you expect them to finish; in the Exacta you nominate the first and second placegetters in the right order, while in the Quinella you pick the first two but don't have to specify any order. I somehow thought Quinella would have something to do with the number 5, but it derives from a Spanish word "quiniela" which is a game of chance. A different type of gambling, Keno, gets its name from the same source.
Peripheral to the horse-racing is the parade of fashion, especially among the women attendees, although men are also getting into it now with neon-coloured suits...and hair. It's one of few modern occasions keeping milliners in business, as it's de rigueur for women to wear a hat, the more eye-catching the better. (This holds true for many of the local events too, though thankfully not at our Mt Wilson get-together.) Male racegoers traditionally wear a yellow rosebud in their lapel.
The only person I was aware of who didn't stop work for the race, which occurs at 3 pm, was the young bloke installing our new rainwater tank, though he did say his mates had phoned him with the results. Since the tank went in we have had unprecedented rainfall so it is filling up nicely. More details about it to come in a future post.

The Melbourne Cup

Australia's famous horse race took place on Tuesday. This is a great national event when everybody, and I mean everybody, stops work to watch or listen to the race. In the state of Victoria, it's a holiday. Elsewhere, every workplace has a sweep, a sort of raffle where you draw a horse, or horses, at random and chip in a bit of money. The resulting pot is divided among first, second, third, and last placegetters. Those who don't have a workplace, like us, have a choice of places to go and party, from clubs to hotels to community halls. We went to one of the last, the Mt Wilson village hall, to a lunch organised by my sister-in-law Judy and other locals. In the sweep, Michael drew the eventual winner, an outside chance by the appropriate name of "Efficient", so having invested the grand sum $6 on three tickets, we came home with $12. How good is that? as the Aussies like to say. The 2-mile long race was an exciting one this year as "Efficient", a striking dark-grey horse in a field of predominantly chestnuts, came streaking down the outside on the home straight to just beat out a chestnut called "Purple Moon".
In the course of watching the event on a large screen, I came across some unfamiliar words that I had to look up. Trifecta, Quinella and Exacta all describe certain betting tactics. If you bet the Trifecta, you select the first three horses in the exact order you expect them to finish; in the Exacta you nominate the first and second placegetters in the right order, while in the Quinella you pick the first two but don't have to specify any order. I somehow thought Quinella would have something to do with the number 5, but it derives from a Spanish word "quiniela" which is a game of chance. A different type of gambling, Keno, gets its name from the same source.
Peripheral to the horse-racing is the parade of fashion, especially among the women attendees, although men are also getting into it now with neon-coloured suits...and hair. It's one of few modern occasions keeping milliners in business, as it's de rigueur for women to wear a hat, the more eye-catching the better. (This holds true for many of the local events too, though thankfully not at our Mt Wilson get-together.) Male racegoers traditionally wear a yellow rosebud in their lapel.
The only person I was aware of who didn't stop work for the race, which occurs at 3 pm, was the young bloke installing our new rainwater tank, though he did say his mates had phoned him with the results. Since the tank went in we have had unprecedented rainfall so it is filling up nicely. More details about it to come in a future post.

Spring along the Highway

The route from Sydney to our home in Katoomba goes by the imposing name of The Great Western Highway. It is one of only two routes that lead from the metropolis across the Great Dividing Range to the western plains, and the state government is working (slowly) to upgrade the entire road to a four-lane highway. This is not as bad as it sounds, mainly because the landscaping of the new sections has been done quite sensitively with local native plants. Right now masses of bright scarlet bottlebrush ( Callistemon citrinus) are in bloom, both on the median strip and along the edges.

Spring along the Highway

The route from Sydney to our home in Katoomba goes by the imposing name of The Great Western Highway. It is one of only two routes that lead from the metropolis across the Great Dividing Range to the western plains, and the state government is working (slowly) to upgrade the entire road to a four-lane highway. This is not as bad as it sounds, mainly because the landscaping of the new sections has been done quite sensitively with local native plants. Right now masses of bright scarlet bottlebrush ( Callistemon citrinus) are in bloom, both on the median strip and along the edges.

Bushland flowers

A couple of weeks ago we went on a leisurely hike with a local bushwalking group. The track we followed was through fairly dense vegetation, much of it in flower in this mid-spring season, offering an opportunity to learn more about Australian native plants. The yellow-flowering shrubs are Dillwynia floribunda, common name Egg-and-Bacon Pea. The pink flowers are Boronia, a member of the rue family.

Bushland flowers

A couple of weeks ago we went on a leisurely hike with a local bushwalking group. The track we followed was through fairly dense vegetation, much of it in flower in this mid-spring season, offering an opportunity to learn more about Australian native plants. The yellow-flowering shrubs are Dillwynia floribunda, common name Egg-and-Bacon Pea. The pink flowers are Boronia, a member of the rue family.

Only in Australia

Australians universally refer to their native eucalyptus trees as gum trees, so I guess they don't see the name of this motel as a potential drawback. My dentist is going to love this one.

Only in Australia

Australians universally refer to their native eucalyptus trees as gum trees, so I guess they don't see the name of this motel as a potential drawback. My dentist is going to love this one.

More on waratahs

Further to my comments on waratahs, I should mention that our town, Katoomba, has garbage bins along the main street that feature this very attractive stylized waratah design.

More on waratahs

Further to my comments on waratahs, I should mention that our town, Katoomba, has garbage bins along the main street that feature this very attractive stylized waratah design.