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.
Yesterday I was as mad as hell when workers down the road parked on my new garden. So I spent a good five minutes looking for some lipstick to write on their windscreen. But I decided against that and instead stormed down to where they were working and asked them to move their, ahem, vehicle off my, um, garden, or words to that effect. No really, I was very polite. Unfortunately, there was a fatality.
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.
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.
I once thought “bokeh” referred to the circles, sometimes sparkly, that you often see in the background of a photo taken with a macro or telephoto lens. I’ve moved on from that and I now like to think of bokeh as the aura surrounding the subject of the photo, the bokeh being that little bit of voodoo magic performed by the camera to blur out the background so that the subject has centre stage. That is purely my artistic view and not a technical definition. I prefer my bokeh soft and calm and not swishy/choppy, but this is easier said than done. The exception to that is when the bokeh is being used for creative effect. If for any reason it is not possible to achieve the effect desired, I would rather take the photo “as is”, and enjoy what I’ve seen. Hence, you will see less than perfect bokeh on my site. Hopefully, the photos will still be interesting.
A messy background, my position and camera shake affected the quality of the bokeh/aura in my photo of this kookaburra below. The bokeh is not to my taste but how could you not love a face like that?
Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae), Australian National Botanic Gardens
Now for my photography partner’s photo. He was further up the hill than I was and his extra height meant that he was able to access a much nicer background, and hence, lovely bokeh.
Kookaburra – Australian National Botanic Gardens
Look! Even with my little camera, I can still achieve a lovely blurred background if I am lucky to find myself close to my subject and there is a reasonable amount of separation between it and the background.
Silvereye (Zosterops lateralis) in the Canberra suburbs
It is difficult to capture that lovely blurred background effect with fast moving little birds. A really fancy camera or lots of patience is required. I therefore like to see what my little camera can make of plants. Trees in sheltered spots are great for this. The filtered light provides a beautiful tonal calm backdrop to the bark of this Pinus canarienis at Canberra’s Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum. The dark colour of the bark is a result of being burnt in the 2003 bushfires.
Canary Island Pine (Pinus canariensis), Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum, Canberra)
And below, I couldn’t resist the combination of the young eucalyptus leaves against the muted yellow plants in the background (probably paper daisies like those in the foreground), which were themselves set against the darker green of the heavily shaded area in the far back. I wouldn’t classify this as bokeh or an aura, but without my camera to see this stunning plant against the blurred background, it might not have caught my eye so. My botanist son’s best guess is that the tree is a native of Western Australia, Eucalyptus macrocarpa. WA plants are always show stoppers. What do you think, WA readers? Did my son guess right?
Mottlecah (Eucalyptus macrocarpa) tbc – Australian National Botanic Gardens
And, finally, this creamy milk chocolate background is a perfect complement to the fungi growing in fallen timber. Photography can be such a time waster but there are worse things we could be doing.
Thanks for reading this far, everyone. I have a couple more photos of the kookaburra that I will share soon. In the meantime, take care and take photos.
There has been many a twist and turn, and a few curve balls thrown at us over the last few weeks.
My mother and step-father visited from up north, skirting the floods that have left thousands homeless on the east coast of Australia. It has been over two years since I had my hair cut. My mother plaited it for me. The plait was a bit wonky, so perfect for me.
I have been rather quiet over the last few months living my ordinary life in extraordinary times. Ordinary does not mean dull or insignificant. Such is life in these days of extremes. I have spent an inordinate amount of time at my special place, ie. home. It might not be perfect, posh or pristine, but it has everything we need. Every window has a view of the garden and its inhabitants.
The theme for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is Low Light. I thought I would join in. I enjoy low light photography. The words moody and dramatic spring to mind. It’s the realm of the arty farty, don’t you think? I like that word. Realm. I like arty farty too. Anyway, today I have four photos. The first three were snapped by my True Love (TL) and I took, and mucked around with, the fourth one. Please note that we don’t do mornings.
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 is quite damp here at the moment. In eastern Australia, the sky dogs are rumbling and drooling all the way from Coonamble in northern New South Wales through to Marlo in southern Victoria. Marlo is situated at the mouth of the iconic Snowy River in Victoria. I bet the Snowy River is flowing full throttle at the moment. That would be a sight to behold. Good for the soul.
That’s a nice segue to my song choice. Today we will be listening to Australian rocker, Jimmy Barnes, perform a cover of Soloman Burke’s Cry To Me. If you can’t view the video below, I encourage you to check out the original or one of the many covers on that popular video streaming platform. You know the one I mean. Enjoy.
Riding the wave rapids is a bit daunting. Buckle that life jacket and hold on tight, everyone.
Canberra (Australia) – A veil of green pools on valley floor. Grey-filled sky billows adding to uncertainty. Will I or won’t I go for a walk? We put on our gardening gear and gumboots to dig in the loam once labelled the garden bed of death. Intermittent sunlight sounds of engines thrumming, dogs barking, bees humming and tiles cracking. Beyond Canberra, on the vast flood plains of eastern Australia, rivers rise, fall and rise again.
