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Showing posts from April, 2016

Translation

More Autumn Glory - In Hobart's Japanese garden

Momijigari - the viewing of red leaves is especially valued in Japan and dates back to the first century It’s not necessary to go all the way to Mt. Field to see beautiful displays of colour. I popped down to the Botanic Gardens the other day, specifically to look at the Japanese Garden, but the whole area was ablaze with the rich tones of autumn. I am not sure what the fascination is, though as usual I have a theory. I  certainly think it is much more than people following a fashion to keep up with the folks on the hill and I am certain that science will eventually prove me right. I believe that just as other life forms   respond to declining sunlight – the lower angle of the sun as it enters the outer perimeter of its orbit, that makes birds begin their long migrations, squirrels put by nuts, and trees   invest energy in their roots rather than leaves and shoots, we too have a conditioned evolutionary response, though our need for storing food is less apparent in thes

Koyo* Season in the Bush - A frolic in the fagus

For those in the Northern hemisphere this may not look like a remarkable picture – deciduous trees are everywhere, but read on to find out why this is special.  * Koyo is what the  The Japanese call the turning of the leaves. Both the Japanese and Koreans have long appreciated the distinctive beauty of  Autumn leaves Rocks, a delicate tracery of leaves and equally ancient conifers bring to mind Japanese gardens Autumn is my favourite season in Tasmania. The air is crisp and clear and everywhere the vegetation puts on its finest colours – not just in the gardens, the parks and the towns, but the bush as well. The plant shown here is the deciduous beech, Northofagus Gunni , Australia’s only native deciduous tree. Though it has distant cousins in New Zealand and South America, this is unique to Tasmania. They are an ancient species and their common ancestry confirms the theory of continental drift and that they were once part of the Gondwana Supercontinent which broke up

… and about those Empty Houses and Towns

Empty but not free At first glance it seems ridiculous that we have empty houses and dying towns here, when there are refugees both here and abroad who could desperately use them. Indeed, one mayor, notably the Mayor of Brighton, recently proposed that to the Federal Government, since an influx of people would help to boost the town’s businesses. However, this has been rejected on the grounds that Tasmania is already regarded as   the ‘beggar ‘   state, having to rely on taxes generated   on the mainland to survive. The provision of additional services such as education and health required by the new population, would simply be another cash drain on an already impoverished public purse. There are many reasons why these houses are empty and have been allowed to fall into disrepair and they are most certainly not free for the taking. Many of them would date from the great farm amalgamations which took place in the 1950’s when mechanised farming became necessary due to low

Small Update on the Fairy Garden

I was outraged a few months ago when I saw what had happened to a favourite place in the neighbourhood, but I'm pleased to see that something - not sure exactly what, has now been planted there. It's a pity that it is going to take so long before it regains  a little bit of  the magic and mystery that it had before. How it looked before How it looked last ye ar Starting to heal up and hair over, Thank Goodness! And while I think of it, on the subject of the appalling state of our roads, if a fraction of the cost of constantly  enlarging and improving those elaborate interchanges around Launceston, were spent on our rural roads, the whole state would benefit, including Launceston. They remind me of Luxembourg, where an excess of wealth has spawned massive freeways which stop at the border and totally obscure its intrinsic charm. The same goes for Kingston with its circus of roundabouts which no one wants to visit. With the money saved by the council  it cou

The Last Waterfall (for now) – Day 8 The last gasp and a close encounter

Cradle Mountain Beauty by John Lendis, one of many superb murals at Sheffield I’d planned to stay in Sheffield , famous for its murals, that night, but after getting thoroughly lost in the maze of small roads that criss –cross inland from the coast, I found myself in Forth instead. These roads, though sealed, pre –date modern earth moving times and go around each hill and each farmer’s field. It must have been onion season now as I passed through acre upon acre of what looked like seas of golden pearls. Camping was permitted in the recreation ground in Forth but it seemed as if several hundred people had already thought of that. It was apparently the weekend of Forth’s Annual Blues Festival and I only just managed to squeeze my van in between another car and a tent.   People were already gathered around barbecues and firepits, drinking wine and playing loud music. The people on my right kindly invited me to join them and it looked like it was going to be a lively nig