Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
It’s already Saturday here and I haven’t published my Friday Song yet. Better late than never, eh? This week I could tell you about all the stupid spending that went on under the last government, and that we now have nothing “nation building” to show for it. I could also tell you how this has left the new national government in a pretty pickle having to cancel important programs that ensure people sick with Covid don’t have to go into work in order to keep a roof over their heads. Yeah, tricky. It is especially tricky when you have inherited a huge budget deficit due to a lot of expenditure that hasn’t exactly been the best value for money for the country, and now have a huge budget deficit/ big credit card bill, at the same time as interest rates are going through the roof (lotta roofs in this thought bubble). And if you are not collecting enough taxes to pay that debt down because everybody, including the rich people, must have a tax cut – and in order for prospective governing parties to win an election – then those debt levels are only going to increase, adding to the burden on existing and future taxpayers, those few that are still remaining that is (including those casual but essential workers sick with Covid), and I’m not talking about the rich people here. I could tell you about all of that, but I won’t.
It’s July so you know what that means. July is when the dedicated, hard-working hosts of the incredibly popular Lens-Artists Photo Challenge take a well earned break from their hosting duties and co-opt five guest hosts to take on this important responsibility. This week, Jez from Photos with Jez, is hosting the challenge and he has invited us to share in his addiction for reflections and has dared us to see double.
June in Canberra (the Australian Capital Territory) – Winter officially begins. It has been the coldest start to winter since 1964. Opening the house to the elements due to household Covid infections made June a particularly cold month. Life on the outside was better even if it was freezing. The sun came out occasionally and reminded us that winter days in Canberra can be glorious. Here are the highlights, largely courtesy of my True Love who took photos before and after his Covid infection. The poor man still seems very unwell to me but he takes beautiful photos nevertheless.
It snowed on the ranges in the period after my TL’s surgery and prior to his Covid infection. It was bleak but we were happy, happy, happy.*
The majesty.*
Then life got more complicated so I snatched a few moments in the garden. My Eutaxia obovata (egg and bacon plant) that I planted last year clenched its leaves to conserve heat.
The galahs were contemplative.
The sun popped out and so did my TL and Pimelea physodes.* Lucky for us.
The Eastern spinebill chimed its arrival and stopped to freshen up.*
The prodigal Golden Whistler returned.*
The sun called me and I was off. T-shirt weather, baby! The brittle gums (E. mannifera) up the hill were celebrating too.
The Eucalyptus cinerea were covered in galls. Something should eat those.
By this time (3 hours later), I wished I had packed my jumper.
Finally, one last photo for my neighbour, J, who is home with Covid. You had visitors today. They seemed to be gnawing on your tree rather than eating the seeds.
Anyway, back to the Covid situation. Canberra seems to have the highest rate per 100,000 people than any other Australian state or territory (NY Times tracks this stuff but maybe their data is wrong). Perhaps the number of infections is only now catching up with the rest of the country? On the other hand, there are now 122 people with Covid in our public hospital. That’s 122 people with Covid in a public hospital system that has somewhere between 600 to 670 public hospital beds and a huge number of hospital staff off sick. At the same time, elective surgeries in the public hospital system have been cancelled again. By my rough calculation, 15-20% of our public hospital beds are being occupied by people with Covid, as they should be if those people need hospital care. These stresses on the system do not seem to merit a “business as usual” approach. Furthermore, several patients and staff in the cancer ward have also caught Covid on the ward. I understand that staff, patients and visitors are required to have a RAT test to enter those highly sensitive areas. If our experience with the uselessness of the RATs is anything to go by, then that does seem like a Covid breach waiting to happen. That’s my opinion.
Anyway, anyway, I send my best wishes to my neighbour, J, for a speedy recovery. Ditto, my friend, Martha, in the States. My TL is none too well and he is in his third week post onset of his infection. Who knows what July will bring? Hopefully, cake. And a few sunny days. And good health. Especially good health.
This is my response to The Changing Seasons photo challenge, jointly hosted by Ju-Lyn (Touring My Backyard) and Brian (Bushboys World). Click on the links provided to check out Ju-Lyn and Brian’s challenge and create some memories by joining in.
But enough of me, how was your June? I hope you found a space for things that make you happy and keep you sane.
Take care, everyone. Stay safe, be kind and be you. Kind Regards. Tracy.
*Photos preceded by an asterix were taken by my True Love.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new night vision camera. We occasionally get bats eating our figs in the backyard. We will be ready to capture them on camera next summer should they decide to pay us a visit. Of course, they are not the only animals that help themselves to our produce at the night market. Here is a taste of our backyard fauna.
The brushtail possums are frequent, noisy visitors. Normally, there is a furore after sunset when the possum exits our garage/shed. The dogs go crazy. However, I didn’t really expect the possum to stop by at 2am in the morning.
This photo was taken a couple of years ago. My neighbour has a much better shed but the possums prefer to slum it with us.
Mr Possum, that is not your best angle.
The rodents have been a huge problem over the last few years. We have caught quite a few in a snap trap that my True Love designed. The trap is placed in what is effectively a tunnel. This is the culling method that is preferred by the (Australian) Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (see here). Unfortunately, the rats are very canny and after a successful night trapping, the trap must remain unset for several weeks until the rodents get hungry enough to try their luck again.
Our fig tree fruited prolifically this year, but it seemed none but the rodents would enjoy the fruit. We tried collaring the tree with an Elizabethan dog collar to prevent the rodents ascent. It worked.
Here is a short clip of one of the little bastards. As yet, we have not worked out a way to keep them from our tomatoes.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of the backyard antics. Perhaps we will set up the camera in our banksia rose hedge. It appeared to shimmy with movement this afternoon.
May in Canberra (Australia) – Moments in May, momentous May, May in triptychs. But first, a poem, a kind of triptych of course.
May Change
Filaments of May morph and coalesce ‘twixt pearlescent rain and golden light, while rising power bills outstrip inflation.
Leaves and pamphlets flutter in the breeze. People power in technicolour. Rejoice! Winter is upon us and Australia is infectious.
Sadly, little bird flies the coop. Man in repose, rises. Listen, do you hear that? Tick-tick, tick-tick, as we turn the corner.
What does it all mean, I hear you ask? Autumn finished slowly. It rained on and off, but the sun broke through often enough to dally with our affections. Jack Frost flirted, adding impetus to deciduous trees still reluctant to toss aside their colourful costumes. The wildlife has begun jockeying for power and has cleared out the pantry in preparation for next Spring’s bounty. There was, nevertheless, time for bathing. Speaking of bathing, a national election was held. The government changed amid pledges of a new, kinder, more collaborative polity in the future. My True Love survived his surgery. Our canary, Pan of the Wild Music, died. I got hearing aids today. I wish I could have heard Pan sing one last time. Apparently, I still don’t listen to my husband.
Triptych – black and white theme for the magpie juveniles who still haven’t left home.
Triptych – Crimson theme for crimson rosellas bathing.
Triptych – multicoloured mixed feelings.
Winter is now upon us. As I returned from my hearing aid fitting, the Brindabella range was shrouded in snow clouds. Rain hammered loudly on the windscreen. We’ve definitely turned a corner. It sounds like tick-tick, tick-tick.
I thought I might do some garden posts since, well, it cheers me up. Today I am making my first contribution to Six on Saturday, a weekly gardening get-together hosted by The Propagator.
1. As some readers will know, I have been taking advantage of our extended La Niña event to establish a new garden with plants native to Australia on the front verge. The plants are tiny and as yet there is very little form or colour to the garden to give it depth and interest. So I whacked up this old gate that I had lying around out the back and hung my mosaic on it for the kids to enjoy when they walked past. The gate will also provide a frame for the climber, Appleberry, Billardiera scandens (not shown), that I have planted in front of the gate.
2. I have also planted a variety of native grasses in the new garden, including barbed-wire grass (Cymbopogon refractus) pictured above. A friend told me that barbed-wire grass is beloved of blue wrens and red-browed finches. I’ve not seen red-browed finches in our suburb so barbed-wire grass might be a grass to plant in our nearby reserve once we get rid of some of the dreaded African love grass.
3. For the last few winters, the Australian National Botanic Gardens has been showing off Qualup Bells, Pimelea physodes. It grows in Western Australia. When I saw it at the local nursery, I couldn’t resist it and brought it home with me. This plant has been grafted making it possible to grow in Canberra (which is located in eastern Australia). Mine is planted in a pot. It is covered with buds that are poised to open (above). I can’t wait.
4. Speaking of pots, I took a cutting of the pink salvia, Salvia microphylla (above), growing out back. It is now established in this pot out front. The Eastern spinebills love it. Winter frosts will inevitably knock it back. When that happens, I hope the spinebills will be tempted by the Qualup Bells.
5. In the backyard, it is a shower of autumn leaves. This coral bark maple, Acer palmatum ‘Sango-kaku’ (above), has a few leaves that have not yet been washed away by today’s deluge. This tree was originally a rescue plant. We had to lop it as it did not have a central leader so it is unlikely to grow more than 3 or 4 metres. I really enjoy this tree, as do the little birds who swoop in to gather the fine sticky branches for nesting material.
6. And finally, a pink camellia (species unknown) peeks out from between the salvia and chocolate vine which are attempting to overwhelm it.
Ravenous is a great word, don’t you think? There is something quite primal, urgent and debased about it. Or at least, that was its historical context but, at least outside of the bedroom, it is a word that has now attained some respectability and simply means very hungry. According to Mirriam-Webster, the noun “raven” (black bird) and the verb “raven” (from which the adjective “ravenous” is derived) are unrelated. They are homographs, which is a shame because I have a ravenous raven story. This is your chance, squeamish readers, to skip this story.
Canberra (Australia) – Autumn delivers and April visitors.
I haven’t contributed to The Changing Seasons since December 2021. A lot has happened over the past four months, including health issues, poetry, completion of a major mosaic project and the start of a new front garden. Apart from the health matters, the garden has taken priority because we have to get it in now ahead of the next, inevitable, drought. In the regular garden, we had to abandon the tomatoes and beans to the rodents this year. They have been very hungry (we caught three and Makea, our dog, caught one). Nevertheless, we still managed to harvest three pumpkins from vines we did not plant. The fig tree went bonkers and produced two huge bumper crops. The rodents got stuck into the first crop but we managed to score some figs from the second batch by securing Elizabethan collars around the trunk of the tree to prevent the rats from climbing up the tree. I also collected a small tub of feijoa today, our first ever crop in more than two decades that we have lived at our house in Canberra.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem.
The vine grows tangled on bough – gnarly and proud. Pride, gnarly pride – whether of nations or race – wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission.
Vines tangled on thorns of bloodied resistance, trapped in a fog of remembrance, the glory. Ignominious defender of empire
Lost. Dark and broken. Quells peace. Cruel tsar to none, hero to one. The vine grows tangled on bough. Wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission.
Tangled vines lash all to the yoke of sorrow. Wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission. The vine grows tangled on bough. Its rose blooms red.
Perhaps there is only one road for those devoid of imagination and courage? Maybe peace is something that requires practise? You know, fake it until you make it? Who knows? It seems that some of god’s apparent emissaries can give some pretty shitty advice. Shall we listen to Loreena McKennitt’s song, Dante’s Prayer, in the hope of something better?
Take care, everyone. Kind Regards. Tracy.
Lens-Artists Photo Challenge – Colourful Expressions, specifically a red rose for Anne as it is her favourite colour, plus NaPoWriMo #22challenge is to to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.
Reflections of An Untidy Mind 