May meander

I had decided that I'd give up writing about our bushwalking adventures, thinking that there was little new to photograph and write about them. Then, we tackled the first section of the Six-Foot Track, a former coaching road that begins at Katoomba and descends through the Megalong Valley to the Jenolan Caves, and I couldn't resist the scenery.

More ambitious walkers than us hike the route, which takes an average of three days. And once a year, the Six-Foot Marathon www.sixfoot.com/index.php encourages serious over-achievers to run the full 45-kilometre distance, which the leading competitors manage to do in just over three hours. Our sedate group settled for the first leg only, a modest 8 kilometres.

"Leg" is an apt way to describe it, as the track begins with a very steep descent through a cleft in the mountains, where the drop down many narrow steps is long enough to jar your leading leg as your foot makes contact. Most of us admitted to trembling muscles by the time we reached level ground at the bottom. I took no photos of this section: not only was it quite dark beneath tree ferns and the sheer cliff walls enclosing us, but I needed all my focus on the track to avoid hurtling headlong down the ravine.

Once we reached level ground in the valley, the vegetation thinned out and we entered a more pastoral landscape of beautiful eucalypts - pink-trunked angophoras and silver scribbly gums.








After stopping for lunch near a mysterious sign...



...we continued through lush paddocks and more groves of gums deeper into the Megalong Valley, which has been settled for many years, mainly by horse-lovers. Ground cleared for paddocks here has allowed the remaining trees the space to grow into magnificent specimens.





Our route took us briefly along a dirt road and over a creek, which was placid and pretty on this day,




although it clearly had a different personality in rainy periods.



The last part of our trek followed trails through private property, whose owners had obligingly provided metal stiles over the barbed wire fences on their boundaries.

Something completely different

As a break from all the photos and extended captions, here's a quote from the Family First Party's Steve Fielding, reacting to the budget just brought down by the Federal Government here in Australia. It appeared in the weekend newspaper under the heading "Warning: Mixed Metaphors Ahead".

This is a budget of broken dreams. It amazes me that the Rudd government can implore Australians to knuckle down and do it tough and then have the gall to continue sticking their own snouts in the trough of perks paid for by hardworking Australians. It is a real smack in the face to all Australians who are struggling to stay afloat when they see politicians feathering their own nest.

George again

It must be at least a couple of months since I succumbed to posting a cute cat picture. When your average moggy goes to sleep, he curls up into a little ball, protecting all the vulnerable bits, but not our George, for whom this 180º twist is a favourite sleeping posture. There are times when I could swear he is dead and rigor mortis has set in.

Cockatoo on the roof

Recently, while checking out my daughter's Flickr site for new photos she might have posted, I discovered a Flickr group restricted solely to photos of dogs on roofs. I don't think there is one for sulphur-crested cockatoos on roofs, which is a pity. Ah well, my photos aren't good enough for such a select group anyway; it's incredibly difficult to capture a very active bird in fading evening light with a basic little digital camera.

These are my two best attempts:

Lemon tree very pretty

When Sarah Jane left for overseas, we inherited her potted lemon tree, a rather spindly specimen as her courtyard is very shady. Up against the warm north wall of our house, it has done well enough to produce a crop of about six lemons this year. Not bad for such a challenged little tree.



Meanwhile, Michael's rock garden alongside our western boundary is beginning to fill in.

Blackheath colour

Blackheath is a village about a 15-minute drive west of where we live. It's a little higher in elevation and its small, picturesque cottages are popular as weekenders with an affluent Sydney crowd who patronize its art galleries and high-end restaurants.

At this time of year, the clear blue skies and fall colours draw many visitors from the coast where the weather is warmer but often stormy and wet.







In spite of the cool climate, it is still temperate enough for an occasional palm tree to thrive alongside the northern hemisphere trees.






The worldwide trend towards growing native plants has reached Blackheath, as one little garden showed, with tea-tree (Leptospermum) and banksia among the shrubs I recognize here. It presents a much more subtle palette as these Australian species are not deciduous, their grey-green foliage offering contrasts in texture rather than colour.

May in the Mountains

This is the time of year when Sydneysiders and interstate travellers come to the Blue Mountains to admire the fall colours. Sunny days and cold nights bring reds and yellows as bright as those of eastern Canada to the many maples and oaks planted in local gardens.

I took all of the following photos within a block of our home here in Katoomba.













Our own garden, sadly, has no mature trees although I have planted a couple of maples that I hope will one day will equal those of my neighbours.
In the meantime, I have to be content with the big old hydrangea by our front gate, which is a somewhat prosaic blue during the summer but has now turned a beautiful wine-red.