New home

Finally, after two months of being nomads, we have a home again. We are living in the town of Katoomba in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. The Blue Mountains have been designated a World Heritage Site, in part because they are home to 103 different species of eucalypts. They are also an area of great natural beauty, not really "mountains" by Canadian standards, but ancient sandstone and basalt plateaux. Sheer cliffs fall away into leafy valleys and the air is indeed blue, largely from the sun striking particles of dust and moisture, a phenomenon known as Rayleigh scattering, but here magnified by the volatile oils of eucalyptus that the forests give off on sunny days.
The trees around our home are mostly eucalyptus but there are also some huge pines that are a popular perch for the many sulphur-crested cockatoos that live in the mountains. Other birds that we see and hear on a regular basis include black cockatoos, crimson rosellas, king parrots and an assortment of honeyeaters. At sunrise or sunset, we may be lucky enough to see a small wallaby grazing in the vacant lot next door.
Our property is really a set of three apartments, built in 1936 when this area was just beginning to become a tourist mecca. There are two mirror-image apartments at street level, and, as the lot falls away steeply towards a ravine, there's a third one tucked beneath the back of the upper two. In spite of being one floor down, it is still well above ground level, with enough room for a laundry and storage space below it at the back garden level. All three apartments have beautiful stained-glass windows, high ceilings, picture rails, fireplaces and decorative plaster ceilings in the main rooms. Our plan is to keep the amiable long-term tenant in one of the upstairs apartments, live in the other and, after some necessary bathroom renovations, rent the lower unit by the week to visitors, of whom there are many as Katoomba is a centre for tourists and bushwalkers.
The garden, though obviously once cared for, is sadly over-run with English ivy and self-seeded buddleia, holly and blackberries. Among our immediate tasks will be removing these thugs and freeing the hydrangeas, pelargoniums (perennials in this climate), a Cootamundra wattle and a Chinese dogwood that are struggling to survive. Once that is done. I can start to choose plants to enhance these existing ones. I'm looking forward to finding some Australian native shrubs to add, particularly some of the pretty Leptospermums (waxflowers), but there'll also be room for some of my old favourites, maybe even a rose or two!

New home

Finally, after two months of being nomads, we have a home again. We are living in the town of Katoomba in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. The Blue Mountains have been designated a World Heritage Site, in part because they are home to 103 different species of eucalypts. They are also an area of great natural beauty, not really "mountains" by Canadian standards, but ancient sandstone and basalt plateaux. Sheer cliffs fall away into leafy valleys and the air is indeed blue, largely from the sun striking particles of dust and moisture, a phenomenon known as Rayleigh scattering, but here magnified by the volatile oils of eucalyptus that the forests give off on sunny days.
The trees around our home are mostly eucalyptus but there are also some huge pines that are a popular perch for the many sulphur-crested cockatoos that live in the mountains. Other birds that we see and hear on a regular basis include black cockatoos, crimson rosellas, king parrots and an assortment of honeyeaters. At sunrise or sunset, we may be lucky enough to see a small wallaby grazing in the vacant lot next door.
Our property is really a set of three apartments, built in 1936 when this area was just beginning to become a tourist mecca. There are two mirror-image apartments at street level, and, as the lot falls away steeply towards a ravine, there's a third one tucked beneath the back of the upper two. In spite of being one floor down, it is still well above ground level, with enough room for a laundry and storage space below it at the back garden level. All three apartments have beautiful stained-glass windows, high ceilings, picture rails, fireplaces and decorative plaster ceilings in the main rooms. Our plan is to keep the amiable long-term tenant in one of the upstairs apartments, live in the other and, after some necessary bathroom renovations, rent the lower unit by the week to visitors, of whom there are many as Katoomba is a centre for tourists and bushwalkers.
The garden, though obviously once cared for, is sadly over-run with English ivy and self-seeded buddleia, holly and blackberries. Among our immediate tasks will be removing these thugs and freeing the hydrangeas, pelargoniums (perennials in this climate), a Cootamundra wattle and a Chinese dogwood that are struggling to survive. Once that is done. I can start to choose plants to enhance these existing ones. I'm looking forward to finding some Australian native shrubs to add, particularly some of the pretty Leptospermums (waxflowers), but there'll also be room for some of my old favourites, maybe even a rose or two!

Mainly Birds

It's cool, cloudy and drizzling fine, fine droplets of rain. How can this be so in an Australian summer? This is more like the weather we hoped to leave behind in Vancouver. On Katoomba's main street, cleverly named Katoomba Street, there are still plenty of people in T-shirts and shorts, although there are equally as many, mostly older and wiser, in long pants and rain jackets.
The view from our windows today is into trees shrouded in mist, but every now and then some of the magical birds of this region appear among the branches. Today they are Crimson Rosellas, beautiful small parrots with scarlet bodies and sky-blue wings and tails. Although so striking, they blend well into the young pinkish-red leaves of the eucalypts so that they are harder to see than you might think.
Morning and evening the sulphur-crested cockatoos dominate the sky, screaming harshly at each other and at any other birds that cross their path. They favour a huge pine tree close to our property to the extent that all the locals know not to park underneath if they want their cars free of droppings. They are the hoodlums of the bird world, noisy and destructive, given to nipping off flowerheads or young fruit just for the fun of it, but they have some virtues too, including their enthusiasm for driving crows away.
Occasionally we hear a high whistling call that reminds of us the eagles that used to circle over our Langley farm, and we know that black cockatoos are in the neighbourhood. These are larger birds than the sulphur-crested ones and at first I thought they were an Australian version of turkey vultures. They don't alight nearby so we've just had glimpses of their black shapes with long yellow tails hurtling above the trees. Local legend says that they come before a storm.
Also in the mornings, if the cockatoos haven't driven them off, we hear the calls of the currawongs, large black and white birds with sharp predatory eyes. Indeed, they do prey on smaller birds, but their song is so pretty that it's hard to dislike them. Magpies, which are slightly smaller and have more white feathers, sometimes join in with a rippling melody of bell-like notes. To hear what this dawn chorus sounds like, you have to watch the opening minutes of the Australian movie My Brilliant Career. It is one of my all-time favourite movies, not least for the sound track of that first early morning scene.
Smaller birds with quieter plumage hunt among the blackberries that are threatening to take over one side of the garden. (English ivy is similarly encroaching on the other side.) I think I recognise silvereyes with their olive and brown plumage, and some slightly larger birds that seem to be a type of honeyeater.

Mainly Birds

It's cool, cloudy and drizzling fine, fine droplets of rain. How can this be so in an Australian summer? This is more like the weather we hoped to leave behind in Vancouver. On Katoomba's main street, cleverly named Katoomba Street, there are still plenty of people in T-shirts and shorts, although there are equally as many, mostly older and wiser, in long pants and rain jackets.
The view from our windows today is into trees shrouded in mist, but every now and then some of the magical birds of this region appear among the branches. Today they are Crimson Rosellas, beautiful small parrots with scarlet bodies and sky-blue wings and tails. Although so striking, they blend well into the young pinkish-red leaves of the eucalypts so that they are harder to see than you might think.
Morning and evening the sulphur-crested cockatoos dominate the sky, screaming harshly at each other and at any other birds that cross their path. They favour a huge pine tree close to our property to the extent that all the locals know not to park underneath if they want their cars free of droppings. They are the hoodlums of the bird world, noisy and destructive, given to nipping off flowerheads or young fruit just for the fun of it, but they have some virtues too, including their enthusiasm for driving crows away.
Occasionally we hear a high whistling call that reminds of us the eagles that used to circle over our Langley farm, and we know that black cockatoos are in the neighbourhood. These are larger birds than the sulphur-crested ones and at first I thought they were an Australian version of turkey vultures. They don't alight nearby so we've just had glimpses of their black shapes with long yellow tails hurtling above the trees. Local legend says that they come before a storm.
Also in the mornings, if the cockatoos haven't driven them off, we hear the calls of the currawongs, large black and white birds with sharp predatory eyes. Indeed, they do prey on smaller birds, but their song is so pretty that it's hard to dislike them. Magpies, which are slightly smaller and have more white feathers, sometimes join in with a rippling melody of bell-like notes. To hear what this dawn chorus sounds like, you have to watch the opening minutes of the Australian movie My Brilliant Career. It is one of my all-time favourite movies, not least for the sound track of that first early morning scene.
Smaller birds with quieter plumage hunt among the blackberries that are threatening to take over one side of the garden. (English ivy is similarly encroaching on the other side.) I think I recognise silvereyes with their olive and brown plumage, and some slightly larger birds that seem to be a type of honeyeater.

Centennial Park

With Sydney in a holiday mood, ie. just about everything closed, we went for a walk in nearby Centennial Park. This is one of several large green spaces that function as the lungs of the inner city. There are separate routes throughout the park for cars, cyclists, pedestrians...and a special track for horseriders. You can rent a bicycle or a horse if you don't have your own.
Vast lawns dotted with shade trees comprise most of the space, but there are several small lakes supporting an assortment of ducks, moorhens, ibis, swans, and even a few pelicans.
There's a scruffy rose garden, confirming for me once again how much I dislike hybrid teas planted in mulch, and some spectacular circular beds, like the one above, done in high Victorian style with palms, agaves, phormiums and grasses.



There are a few other borders of flowering shrubs, including the ubiquitous agapanthus and a couple of impressive brugmansias, also known as 'Angel's Trumpets'. There's a close-up of one of them on the left.

Centennial Park

With Sydney in a holiday mood, ie. just about everything closed, we went for a walk in nearby Centennial Park. This is one of several large green spaces that function as the lungs of the inner city. There are separate routes throughout the park for cars, cyclists, pedestrians...and a special track for horseriders. You can rent a bicycle or a horse if you don't have your own.
Vast lawns dotted with shade trees comprise most of the space, but there are several small lakes supporting an assortment of ducks, moorhens, ibis, swans, and even a few pelicans.
There's a scruffy rose garden, confirming for me once again how much I dislike hybrid teas planted in mulch, and some spectacular circular beds, like the one above, done in high Victorian style with palms, agaves, phormiums and grasses.



There are a few other borders of flowering shrubs, including the ubiquitous agapanthus and a couple of impressive brugmansias, also known as 'Angel's Trumpets'. There's a close-up of one of them on the left.

Sunburnt Country

Despite the huge campaign urging Aussies to "slip on a shirt, slap on a hat and slop on the sunscreen", nobody's doing it. In the city, men are sweltering in dark suits and ties, but no hats. In the suburbs, young women are wearing pretty, sleeveless sundresses, perhaps with sunscreen, but again no hats. It's the schoolchildren who are paying attention, or more likely being required to. Younger ones of both sexes wear broadbrimmed cotton hats in yellow, green or navy; high school girls wear flattering panamas with a band bearing their school crest; high school boys wear.....haven't noticed what boys wear yet. All of them wear school uniform of course - none of that freedom to wear jeans and skimpy tops, just like all of the other kids, that so characterizes Canadian schoolgoers.