‘Though rains lash, winds thrash and sun doth dry,
Finger leaves rustle catching the breeze.
Tentacle twigs thrust, poke and probe from
Lean athletic elongated limbs,
Slowly inching upward, stretching high;
Gum tree spirit reaches t’ward the sky.
Born of an ancient land where fires rage,
Smooth ghostly trunk stands strong above while
Unseen roots writhe in silence below,
In search of precious water, so scarce.
A testament to survival these
Icons of antipodean land.
Dandelions I have seen growing in verges and parks near my home in Sydney appear to be a smaller variety to the ones I grew up with in England, UK. My assumption that this ‘weed’ is not native to Australia is confirmed on the Survival and Self Sufficiency website.
This dandelion somehow survived a recent lawn cutting in the park to produce the familiar feather light ball of seeds I knew as fairies. I would release them by blowing on the ball to watch them float gently into the air. The medicinal and nutritious properties of this humble plant may be responsible for its magical reputation, you can find more about this on My Virtual Flower blog.
Kumato seeds are not available to the general public of Australia, these hybrid tomatoes are grown to strict standards under license. Unfortunately I didn’t know this when I grew mine.
The wavy lines of bark on this bottle brush conjured up images of vibrations frozen time.
Judging by the number of posts on this blog that reference these trees, I believe I’m a little obsessed with them:
This one features one of my favourite native birds
Overcoming Gravity
After a brutal pruning
Why have trees near power lines
This tree in our local park is a favourite roosting place for Indian myna birds.
A close up version of picture I posted just over a year ago
This is a funny poem and a serious message, perfect for Easter.
I would like to share this story of courage and determination through the eyes of a dedicated mother at Easter time:
There are periods of time around mid-morning when my mind seems to switch into standby mode. Maybe it’s to do with my blood sugar level. On this particular day I was experiencing a foggy head coupled with a difficulty to process words spoken to me.
Thoughts of a vanilla slice filled my mind as we drove to a local cake shop in Dulwich Hill. Heading past the savouries, I gazed longingly at the crisp, golden pastries, fruit tarts, croissants and brightly iced sponge squares.
A stout, pale skinned lady with red hair advised us that sour cherry was today’s special filling. After selecting one slice of tart and one of strudel the shop assistant enquired “any xing alse?” Noticing a lonely savoury egg tart on a cake stand atop the counter I pointed to it and requested the flan. The archetypal dinner lady purred “iz keeesh!”, “yes we’ll take that too” I replied. “Any xing alse?” she asked.
Spotting hot cross buns packaged in boxes of six my mind wandered to the early nineties, this matronly figure reminded of Iris with whom I briefly worked. “Hot cross buns please, two”, “better if buy six” she said, “yes two boxes please”. “any xing alse?”, “no, thank you”. I didn’t catch the next question as Iris look-a-like gestured in the direction of the coffee machine. I turned to my partner, “coffee?”, he thought this was very funny as I was being offered a carrier bag. Iris with the Eastern European sounding accent asked “vair you from?” ” I don’t know today, I’m all over the place”, I exclaimed with a laugh as I grabbed the purchases and beat a hasty retreat from the shop.
theINFP 