Autumn seems to have finally rolled into town. The clocks change back at 3am tomorrow morning, the official end to day light saving in Sydney, Australia.
After a glorious Easter we have had a vey wet week. We dashed out between showers this morning to take Stan for a walk. I took the picture above with my mobile phone. I was attracted to the green and red leaves and the fried egg like flower. I have no idea what variety of shrub this is, all suggestions will be gratefully received.
I walk beneath the deep green dome shaped tree,
I enjoy the sinus tickling fragrance,
Spiralling yellow white blooms lie scattered.
I bend down to pick up fallen flowers,
Sensuous silky petals feel so fragile.
I float them in a bowl of cool water,
Sustain them for a little while longer.
Sydney Park has undergone a major transformation over the past two decades. The land was originally given as a grant to a convict woman and has since served Sydney as a site for crops and food production, brick making, gas storage and waste disposal. When the New South Wales state government first envisaged turning the site into a public green space in the early 1980s, a key factor in transforming the site was to preserve some of the history associated with it.
Spanning 44 hectares, the park is the largest in Sydney and is connected by about 12 kilometres of pathways. The vast majority of the vegetation on the site was planted as part of a community effort in the early 1990s. The park now has nine hectares of gardens and 28,000 native trees, including 277 Port Jackson and Moreton Bay fig trees. Fifty types of mammals, native birds, frogs and reptiles also frequent the park.
Read more:
The Sydney Morning Herald, February 11, 2012 Rubbish dump transformed into park oasis tips its hat to the past
I took this with my mobile phone while travelling along the Great Western Highway from Blackheath in the Blue Mountains to Sydney. I like the clouds and the blue sky.
After living in the Southern Hemisphere for the last fifteen years I thought I had connected the months of the year with the feeling of the seasons. I have immersed myself in the Australian way of life and pushed thoughts of the Northern Hemisphere to the back of my mind.
Six months into becoming involved with the blogging community and spending time online has brought home to me the contrast between the two hemispheres. It is so refreshing to read about the excitement around the start of Spring in the north. An unusually warm March in Sydney and Autumn flowers have lulled me into thinking it is Spring here too, what a shock I will get when Winter starts 🙂
I took the above photo late in the afternoon with my mobile phone in a local park. I like the colours and textures against the blue sky.
I feel a loyalty to Queen Elizabeth II, it is good to see that she’s looking so well Queen presents Maundy Money in Oxford
Delicious drops of dew glisten in the
Cool light of dawn, slowly, slowly, dripping
From leaf from bud from twig. Clouds speed above,
Drizzle foreshadows a downpour, to drench
Landscape wide. Streams and brooks rush, swell, rise, run
Into rivers, flooding deltas, breaking
Free, flowing out to sea to oceans deep.
Dive into life giving blue, cleanse body
And spirit, swim west to sway with undines fair.
Grasp the chalice of aitch two oh. Deeply
Drink to link with Druids of old and new.
Oft’ used for scrying by many a seer
to reflect and look from seen to unseen.
More precious than diamonds, worth guarding well!
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
My favourite photographer/explorer, I hope you enjoy the succinct information and pictures 🙂
Sacred structure with mystical power,
Faces of five with sides of four by three,
Temple of gods, tombs of dead, above tower.
Ages of man across continents, we
Came to shape, to form, to build where they stood
Little rest from toil, fashioning details,
Made of metal, glass, crystal, stone or wood
Free from glue, mortar, screws, nuts, bolts and nails.
Once finished, festivals cut across classes,
Processions, worship, awe inspiring sights
Entertain, enthral and engage the masses;
“What a joy, a night to rival all nights”
While deep below lie secrets of the dead,
Curses to strike fear of the heart and dread.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
Fairy thoughts;
Butterflies in my head
Flit, float, glide every way,
On gossamer wings.
Too many to count,
Too many to catch.
Ideas bursting forth
As sparks from fire soar free,
Flying to burn brightly,
Twisting, twirling, twinkling,
Glowing, fading, to die.
Forgotten.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
theINFP 