Sometimes a bloke gits glimpses uv the truth
(“In Spadger’s Lane”)

I wasn’t sure, really, that I wanted to read CJ Dennis’ The moods of Ginger Mick which I received as a review copy from the Sydney University Press – but have surprised myself. I rather enjoyed reading it and am glad that I had this little push to do so!

The moods of Ginger Mick cover (Courtesy: Sydney University Press)

The moods of Ginger Mick was published in 1916 just weeks before the big Conscription Referendum, according to Philip Butters who wrote the new introduction to this edition. It does not however buy into that debate. The book comprises 15 poems “written” by Dennis’ other character, The Sentimental Bloke, at whose wedding Mick was best man. The poems introduce us to Mick and his larrikin life before the Great War and then go on to chronicle his life as a soldier.

Dennis writes his poems in broad Australian slang (but there is a glossary at the end). Most are 6-line stanzas with an ababcc rhyme (the same as Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”!) but every now and then there is a different rhyme scheme which mixes it up a little. The sweet poem “The singing soldiers”, for example, has a sing-song aab(with an internal rhyme)acc, while the poignant “Sari Bair” about the eponymous battle has 4-line stanzas with a simple aabb rhyme.

I enjoyed reading the poems, not only for their evocative language but also for their subject matter. While their setting and language make them very much of a particular time and place, their concerns have some universality. They are about egalitarianism vs class difference, and about what it means to be a man (a “bloke” as it were). Mick starts off as a bit of a larrikin – one who cares not for the “toffs” and for whom the “toffs” care not! As he says in an early poem:

But I’m not keen to fight so toffs kin dine
On pickled olives …
(“War”)

What sends him to war in the end is “The call uv stoush” but, when he gets there, he starts to discover that in uniform all men are equal, that

… snobbery is down an’ out fer keeps,
It’s grit an’ reel good fellership that gits yeh friends in ‘eaps.
(“The push”)

This poem, “The push”, provides a wonderfully colourful roll call of the sorts of men who enlisted. Other poems cover the support of women at home, hopes for work when they return home now they’ve proved themselves (after all the “‘earty cheerin’ … per’aps  we might be arstin’ fer a job”) and the sense that Australia has grown up as a nation (“But we ‘av seen it’s up to us to lay our toys aside”). There is ironic humour (as in “Rabbits”) and pathos (as in “To the boys who took the count” and “The game” in which Ginger Mick finally realises that he’s found his metier). There’s also some racism that was, unfortunately, typical of the time. And of course there is patriotism, with some rather lovely descriptions of the Australian landscape. I just have to mention here some references to gums:

An’ they’re singin’, still they’re singin’, to the sound uv guns an’ drums.
As they sung one golden Springtime underneath the wavin’ gums.
(“The singing soldiers”)

An’ we’re ‘opin’ as we ‘ear ‘em, that, when the next Springtime comes,
You’ll be wiv us ‘ere to listen to that bird tork in the gums
(“A letter to the front”)

As a group, the poems offer an interesting insight into Australia’s experience of the First World War, particularly given their mix of realism and romanticism that belies perhaps the recent glorification that’s developed around our ANZAC heritage. If you are interested in Australia’s cultural and literary heritage, it is well worth giving this short little book a look.

C.J. Dennis
The moods of Ginger Mick
Sydney: Sydney University Press, 2009
87pp.
ISBN: 9781920898984

(Review copy supplied by the Sydney University Press)

River Red Gum, Valley of the Winds Walk, Kata-Tjuta

River Red Gums, or Eucalyptus Camaldulensis, are among our most ubiquitous of gum trees, but that doesn’t mean they’re a boring tree. As their name implies they grow along watercourses – including ones that are very very dry such as those you find in Central Australia. They are also a significant part of what makes the Murray River such a gorgeous old river. Apparently, though, they are not found in Tasmania.

One of the well-known places to see these gums is the beautiful Barmah Forest of the Murray-Darling Basin. It boasts trees that are over 500 years old. Sadly, though, there are concerns that due to the extended drought that area has been experiencing, many trees are threatened, if not already dying. I’ve been to this forest and it is a treasure – it would be tragic to lose it.

Being ubiquitous – and beautiful – they feature regularly in Australian arts (in poetry, song, fiction, and art). Of course, they feature in Murray Bail’s captivating novella Eucalyptus:

Warty River Red Gum, Jessie Gap, East MacDonnells

Over time the River Red Gum (e. camaldulensis) has become barnacled with legends… there’s always a bulky Red Gum here or somewhere else in the wide world, muscling into the eye, as it were: and by following the course of rivers in our particular continent they don’t merely imprint their fuzzy shape but actually worm their way greenly into the mind, giving some hope against the collective crow-croaking dryness. And if that’s not enough the massive individual squatness of these trees, ancient, stained and warty, has a grandfatherly aspect; that is, a long life of incidents, seasons, stories.

River Red Gum, Bond Gap, West MacDonnell Range

Too many poets to mention have written about this gum. I thought I’d choose just two. First is David Campbell, for no other reason than that he spent part of his life in the region where I live and because he addresses the threat to their continuation. Here are some lines from his poem “The Last Red Gum”:

So we stand, me and my brothers, just the bones of ancient trees
that have lined the riverbank since time began.
In a bare and barren landscape, fed by red dust on the breeze,
we’ve been ravaged by the careless hand of man.

Second is Lisa Bellear, an indigenous poet who, in her poem “Beautiful Yuroke Red River Gum”, uses the Gum to symbolise the post-colonial history of Aboriginal Australians. The poem starts:

Sometimes the red river gums
rustled
in the beginning of colonisation
when
Wurundjeri
Bunnerong
and other Kulin nations
sang and danced
and
laughed
aloud

Not too long and there are
fewer red river gums, the
Yarra Tribe’s blood
becomes
the river’s rich red clay

If this isn’t poignant enough, the poem concludes with:

Red river gums are replaced
by plane trees from England
and still
the survivors
watch.

What more can I say?

The Gippsland area of Victoria is a particularly rich one in terms of Australia’s literary history. It is also an area I’ve never visited before and so this week we decided to return home from Melbourne via the less common path, that is via Gippsland. Unfortunately our trip through the region was a quick one, with just one overnight stop at the pretty little fishing and tourist town of Lakes Entrance. It has whetted my appetite for a more leisurely exploration of the area in the future. Gippsland is a diverse region with plains, lakes, rivers, mountains and coastal landscapes – the sort-of “something for everyone” place that tourist guides like to promote.

Some of the authors commonly associated with Gippsland are Eve Langley, Mary Grant Bruce, Katharine Susannah Prichard and Hal Porter … Some were born there (such as Porter) and some visited there (such as Katharine Susannah Prichard), but all wrote about the region. The English writer, Anthony Trollope, also visited the area in 1872.

Eve Langley, whose novel The pea-pickers was the subject of one of my early posts, was particularly well known for extolling the virtues of Gippsland. In The pea-pickers, her two main characters travel through Gippsland – to places like Bairnsdale and Lakes Entrance – working as agricultural labourers. Steve, the main character, yearns to return to her family’s glory years as “princes” of Gippsland.

One of my favourite – though rather politically incorrect these days – childhood authors was Mary Grant Bruce. She set several of her lesser novels in the region and drew on her experiences there for her children’s series, The Billabong novels. My literary guide suggests that “the sense of escape and immersion in untouched nature”  are evident in Bruce and Langley. While clearly there is more settlement now than there was in the early to mid twentieth century when these writers were writing, there are still many wild and natural spaces to enjoy in the Gippsland.

One discovery – and a rather embarrassing one for a person who prides herself on her knowledge of Australian geography – was that it is in Gippsland that the Snowy River, of Banjo Paterson fame, has its mouth. How did I not know that? Anyhow, I was pleased to see it at its quieter end!

Towering gum tree, Orbost

None of the region’s literary heritage was evident to the casual traveller – how I wish we celebrated our writers more. I will finish though with some lines from a poet of the region, Jennings Carmichael, as quoted in the guide under the entry for the town of Orbost:

Each soaring eucalyptus, lifted high,
The wandering wind receives;
I watch the great boughs drawn against the sky,
Laden with trembling leaves.
A soft harmonious music, full and rare,
Murmurs the boughs along–
The voice of Nature’s God is solemn there,
In the deep undersong.

Give me a home among the gum trees (from song by W. Johnson and B. Brown)

Every Australian should have a gum in their yard somewhere! Pretty well every home I’ve lived in, and I’ve lived in a few, has had one in the yard or in the street just outside. My current home, in which we’ve lived for 12 years, has a lovely Snow Gum or Eucalyptus Pauciflora, and here it is:

Eucalyptus Pauciflora

Pauciflora means “few (or poor) flowers” and I suppose that’s true. Our tree does produce flowers in season – creamy white ones – but, while you can see them, they don’t jump out at you, partly I suppose because of their muted colour and the height of the tree. According to the article at the Australian National Botanic Gardens, another name they go by is Weeping Gum. I think you can see why when you look at ours. It has quite a lovely drooping habit (and would have had more if I’d been able to stop Mr Gums having a go at it last year!)

But, the thing they are most famous for is their wonderfully coloured bark, particularly on the subspecies (at least I think it’s a subspecies) that grows in Australia’s (admittedly not very high) alpine regions. These alpine ones can also be stunted, often into quite amazing shapes. As a result, if you search for “snow gums” on the internet you will find many gorgeous photos (both amateur and professional). I may as well add to them: it was taken on the Dead Horse Gap Walk in Kosciusko National Park in the Snowy Mountains. Judging by the little off-trail detour path to it, I’m not the only one to have photographed it:

Snow Gum trunk

This trunk, after rain, would be wearing a more intense technicolour coat of creams, browns, olives, and greys. And, just to bring this back to books, think of these (and other) gums when you read my next review (coming soon) – A.B. (Banjo) Paterson’s The man from snowy river and other verses.

Le lendemain de notre arrivée, après un déjeuner sur la balcon de notre appartement face à l’océan, Kim et Trevor nous emmènent découvrir une plage qui fait partie d’une réserve naturelle. Elle est accessible seulement par un petit chemin qui serpente dans la forêt de gum trees (20 min. de marche) et qui résonne des chants d’oiseaux très exotiques pour nous!

Une fois sur la plage, nous sommes bluffés par le paysage qui s’offre à nous… les vagues, la forêt, les rochers… magnifique!

Nous passons plusieurs heures à lézarder sur le sable et, pour les plus courageux, à piquer une tête dans les vagues (l’eau est encore assez fraîche). La température est très agréable mais le vent reste soutenu… ce qui explique que nous gardons la veste…

>> belle plage en images

Spring is still springing but this weekend will test it as it is going to be pretty warm.  Nice time for those of you near the water to head down to the beach I suppose , but I’m staying out around the hay  to see what happens and to catch the fever.

So here’s a spring time shot to contemplate  over the weekend.

This came out better than I thought it would as it was rocking around in the breeze quite a bit.

Suite à leur passage en Suisse cet été et notre excursion avec eux sur le glacier des diablerets, les cousins Peter et Maria avaient décidé d’organiser une sortie typiquement australienne pour nous. Au programme, location d’un “houseboat” pour nos deux familles (9 tout de même) et descente de la Murray River pour quelques heures. Cette rivière est la frontière entre l’état de Victoria et celui de New South Wales. Elle a servi de moyen de communication principal au premiers colons qui se sont établis à l’intérieur des terres.

Dès le départ, bonne surprise, nous avons droit à un upgrade pour un bateau “de luxe” avec jacuzzi… ce qui a beaucoup plus aux enfants! Après une instruction sommaire sur le pilotage d’un bateau long d’une bonne vingtaine de mètres, nous démarrons la croisière. Peter me montre comment faire et me laisse la main… fatale erreur, j’échoue le bateau sur un tronc qui affleure sous l’eau et nous voilà bloqué pour 45 minutes avant qu’on vienne nous prêter main forte. Décidémment, l’eau n’est pas mon élément… et en plus il fallait conduire à droite…. moi qui m’étais enfin habitué à conduire à gauche

Une fois reparti, ce n’est que du bonheur… un coucher de soleil au fil de l’eau entouré des fameux “ghost gum trees” qui peuplent les berges et dont les troncs blancs rappellent des fantômes… un arrêt pour la nuit dans une magnifique petite crique… souper en famille(s)… et jacuzzi sous les étoiles pour les parents…

Le lendemain, lever de soleil sur le fleuve… et retour paisible en glissant sur l’eau… paradisiaque!

Ce soir, nous dormons encore dans une cabane au bord de l’eau, mais l’ambiance y est moins silencieuse étant donné qu’un groupe s’est installé sur un houseboat juste en dessous de nous pour faire la fête avec la musique “à coin”!

>> quelques images qui rendent difficilement le moment que nous venons de vivre… mais bon…

Sydney Blue Gum on the Hastings River

This is, I believe, a Sydney Blue Gum (Eucalyptus saligna) though I could also be wrong as I’m very much an amateur when it comes to tree identification. It does look like: they can be found up and down the east coast of New South Wales, of which the Hastings River is part, and they can grow to 60 or more metres tall which this one certainly seems to be aiming for. Whatever it is, I couldn’t resist photographing it. It rather dwarfs Mr Gums below doesn’t it?

Blue Gums are apparently the trees referred to in Henry Lawson’s 1919 poem, “Chatswood”:

And a little wood was on it, and the trees were tall and good,
And his young wife used to dream there, so he called it “Chattie’s Wood”.

“Chattie’s Wood” has long since gone, and shops are standing in a row
Where the young wife went a-dreaming in a the days of long ago,

Chattie was apparently Charlotte Harnett, the second wife of Richard Hayes Harnett, a North Shore Sydney landowner in the 1860s and one-time Mayor of Willoughby, and she did wander the Blue Gum High Forest of Chatswood West. The trees have long disappeared (from there anyhow) and some suggest that Lawson played a little loose with the specific details of their story but  it is generally agreed that Chattie’s Wood is the origin of the name of the Sydney suburb of Chatswood.

Another poem, “Blue Gum Forest” (1976) by Roland Robinson, was also inspired by these trees:

The blue gums soar, naked
smooth, to where they over arch …

This year Australian composer Matthew Orlovich set this poem to music for a capella choir. I’d love to hear it one day. Anyhow, these are just two examples I found by doing some quick research. It seems that while the Sydney Blue Gum may have made way for shops in Chatswood, they still survive – in both physical and imaginative form. Long live the gum!

Actually, the terms “gum tree” and “eucalypt” are more complex than many of us, I think, realise. The trees I have habitually called Gums or Eucalypts actually come from three genera: Eucalyptus, Corymbia and Angophera. I was quite shocked when I discovered a few years ago that in the 1990s there had been a reclassification of Eucalypts, with about 113 species being moved to the Corymbia genus. Apparently the Angophera had already existed. I just wasn’t aware that they too were what I called gums. They all belong to the Myrtle family. Perhaps it would be easier to just call them that? Whispering Myrtles anyone?

Anyhow, while Central Australia is not the place where gums are the most prolific, you do find some wonderful specimens there. One of the most famous is the Ghost Gum (which is actually a Corymbia aparrerinja). It can grow in the most amazing places, seeming often to prefer exposed rock faces.

Ghost Gum against the red rocks of Palm Valley

And here’s one, in a really precarious spot…

Ghost Gum on a cliff edge in Palm Valley

One of the other common gums in the area is the River Red Gum (which is really a eucalyptus – the Eucalyptus Camaldulensis). It is found in many parts of Australia, including Central Australia, and mostly grows in or by water courses. A useful marker in the Centre!

River Red Gum trunk at Jessie Gap

These are the gums that are sometimes called “widow makers” for their habit of suddenly dropping large boughs – apparently a protective mechanism against drought. We walked under this one – though this is only half the bough that is about to fall off. Still it looked dramatic.

Looking up at a River Red Gum in Serpentine Gorge

I took many more photos but will save more for another post! But, aren’t they beautiful?

Well, the heavens opened up around 2am this morning and it has been wet and raining all day. I set off at about 7am from Norseman and the first two hours were particularly awful with teeming rain and wind. On the upside the wet weather meant that there weren’t many caravans and other vehicles out on the road so the traffic was light and the conditions were good for cycling.

For the first time in the journey to date , I started travelling east after reaching the most south western point yesterday at Norseman. It was a really hilly ride today though which made it difficult to get into a rhythm, the heart rate would go up on the uphill and slow right down on the way down only to go straight back up again. Not much wildlife around either, we only saw one dingo for the whole 190km.

The scenery continues to be fantastic, I was riding through another national park today so there were lots of gum trees and the occasional lake that had filled up with all the rain but would normally be dry.

Not sure why but I was feeling a bit sick for the last 40km but we arrived in Balladonia around 1.30pm and I’m feeling much better now that I have had something to eat.

With all this miserable weather it’s lucky that I have my gourmet meals to look forward to which are being whipped up by the Masterchefs! Last night KT cooked up a delicious Syrian Chicken Curry which received a perfect 10/10 from me! Tonight Petah is preparing an Asian cabbage salad with toasted almonds and crunchy noodles served with teriyaki chicken, followed by fresh fruit cake and custard for dessert… YUM!

It will be another 190km day to reach to Cocklebiddy tomorrow so looking forward to a good rest tonight. Unfortunately we have no reception at Balladonia so there are no new photos and videos, hopefully we will get reception in Cocklebiddy tomorrow.

Craig

[AAP]

photo: AAP

The iconic gum trees which dot Australia’s paddocks are dying.

Millions of hectares of tree-studded farmland could end up as bare plains because of poor farming practices, researchers have found.

Researchers at the Australian National University (ANU) measured the diameters of thousands of NSW “paddock trees” to estimate their ages.

They found many were more than 140 years old, but there was an unnaturally small number of young trees.

ANU ecologist Joern Fischer said this was because sheep and cattle nibbled or trampled tree seedlings.

The overuse of fertilisers, particularly superphosphates, contributed because it allowed introduced grass species to thrive.

Dr Fischer said gum trees were vanishing from the farming landscape as the old ones died off.

[...]

But the research pointed to a solution.

Dr Fischer said a different way of grazing, where stock was only allowed to graze in one corner of a farm at a time, was a great improvement.

Called “rotational grazing”, the practice kept stock out of paddocks for much of the time, allowing tree seedlings to get established.

The ANU study, published in this week’s edition of the US-based Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, looks at Australia’s “temperate grazing region” – farmland in NSW and Victoria.

Dr Fischer said a similar study suggested half of the region’s paddock trees would be dead within 50 years.

ok - now that I have all THAT off my chest have given you FAIR warning that you are reading the writings of someone limping

conversation starter

 through life at the moment – I feel released to just talk and that your expectations will be less of me – you can just dismiss any post that is TOO ‘blahhh’ as ’she’s having a bad day’!  I do tend to have a few of them.  Today after an inspiring encounter DH & I had some heavy issues to plough….. we love a road trip & always find it great for communication, so off we took ourselves in no particular direction.  We ended up in You Yang Ranges which was lovely.  Backing onto heavily treed forest at home, means that I some times take the beauty of nature for granted and not moved by it in the same way as I am by other things.  A piece of vintage jewellery (valuable or not) or the architectural detailing on an old building…. or the way that a burnished patnia has developed from constant wear on the surface of something is more likely to grab my attention.  Today I was enamoured by the form of the tree trunks & I discovered some beautiful ‘marbled effects’ in the huge roots of one of these monoliths. 

twisted goliath

Journal: African Journal of Ecology
Location: Uganda

Blue Gum Chalcids are highly invasive gall-forming wasps that attack eucalypts. In Uganda, there was no infestation found at high altitudes from 1938 to 2452m (the highest tested) above sea level, which includes the range of Maiden’s Gum.

Blue Gum Chalcid – Leptocybe invasa
Maiden’s Gum – Eucalyptus globulus ssp maidenii

Nyeko P, Mutitu EK, Day RK, 2009. “Eucalyptus infestation by Leptocybe invasa in Uganda.” African Journal of Ecology, DOI: 10.1111/j.1365-2028.2008.01004.x
Affiliations: Makerere University, KEFRI (Kenya Forestry Research Institute), CABI (Commonwealth Agricultural Bureaux International)

To see more “AFTER THE BUSH FIRE” photographs, go to http://lifegames.com.au/after-the-bush-fires/

When I was in Bendigo on Thursday I found manna on the leaves of some of the ecucalypts in Golden Square.

Manna is this white stuff that somehow forms on the leaves of some eucalypts (I think it has something to do with a kind of insect), which you can eat. It tastes sweet.

Dear Reader,

You know how satisfying it is to pop those little bubbles on bubble-wrap, right?

Why do you think that is?

Someone told me once that it was because it was like popping pimples, and that popping pimples was satisfying because when you did it, then you didn’t have the pimple anymore. Just a bleeding hole in your face.

I don’t think that’s right.

My Popping Theory

I think that popping pimples is satisfying just because it involves popping something, and not because of any other related issues, benefits, or indicia, such as the social relief gained through the successful exorcism of a pimple from your chin.

I think we humanfolk find small acts of destruction satisfying. Popping is particularly satisfying because there is a clear moment when the destruction happens. So you know when to savour it.

It’s not something with an ambiguous timeframe, like breaking someone’s heart by not calling them onetime, like you said you would. It’s hard to enjoy that sort of destruction because you can’t pin it down to a specific moment.

Simpsons fans will now recall the “i choo-choo-choose you” episode, where Lisa screams at Ralph that she’s not his girlfriend, live on live tv, and then Bart slo-mos the video, saying something to the effect of, “If you slow it right down, you can see the exact moment when his heart breaks…”

So that should have been very satisfying for Lisa.

Why am i rambling on like this? you wonder. Will i ever get to the point?

The Point

In Australia (the country, not the motion picture) we have these trees called ‘gum trees’. Some of them do this thing called ‘decortication’. This is a process wherein the outer layer of bark curls away from the trunk in large, crisp flakes, like the skin of a 70s sunbather, and then falls to the ground.

There’s a copse of these trees alongside a place where i regularly walk. The ground around the trees is presently littered with scores and scores of crisp, brittle shards of bark, each about the size of your hand.

They make the most satisfying crunch when you stomp on them.

Yours,
Gullybogan

As a follow on from my previous post I thought that I would add another composition along the same theme. So as to not compare the photographs I think this one is quite different. It’sperhaps a bit more abstract than landscape which is what I was aiming for… all be it the main subject is still snow gums.

 Just like people the snow gums (as do boabs – adansonia gregorii) have individuals with unique personality and character. Individuals that want to and do stand out from the crowd. In this example I found two loudly dressed young specimans striving to be seen apart from the rest of the ‘grey race’ in their morbid business suits…

‘two in every crowd’ - Fuji G617, Velvia 50.

Last week, the Leongatha Star interviewed me for a photographic feature in their newspaper. When asked what is my favourite place to visit in South Gippsland, Wilsons Promontory came a strong first place. It is one of the most unspoilt places on the planet, incorporating wilderness areas, rivers and beaches.

Even though I only live 20 minutes drive away from the gateway to this National Park, I estimate I’ve only seen approximately 1% of what it has to offer…and I’m planning to get back there again this weekend with my daughter for more walks in the bush.

It really is an amazing place to take photographs and you can see more pictures at http://south-gippsland.com/wilsonsprom.htm . These photos are also available for you to download and use under a special license. To find out more about how to do that legally, go to http://south-gippsland.com/contact.htm

Corni Paroo Water, on the Paroo River, is in Currawinya National Park near Hungerford in Outback Queensland just north of the border with New South Wales. It is one of our favourite camping spots.

The Paroo River is a tributary to the Darling River and the last free-flowing river system in the Murray-Darling Basin, although it only flows after heavy rain.

Currawinya National Park also features a two large lakes, Lake Wyara (saltwater) and Lake Numalla (freshwater). The last time we visited the lakes (June 2007) they were both low.

(Please, click here or on the photo to see more photos of this location)

I spent a good portion of last week processing images from the first shoot, and I’m really happy with how they came out.  I then finished off the job with a promised extra half hour yesterday. A gloriously warm afternoon down by the lake made for a lot of great photo ops, however I still disappoint myself frequently and I have a lot to learn about working with light and faces. Portrait work is so very different to landscapes and macros, which is what photography was all about for me until last year.

Anyway, practice makes perfect, and I’m a fast learner. Just so long as I can find some more people who trust me enough to give me a go! Speaking of which, if you are in Canberra and would like a session with me, email me at kat.words at gmail dot com (written that way purely to prevent spam) and I’ll share all the details with you.

I couldn’t resist posting another shot. I just love this one: it has such an Australian feel about it, don’t you think?