Tags
banksia, bunya bunya pine, chicory, fungi, leaves, thistles, tristaniopsis, wattle
It was a while since I'd been out and about, camera slung around my neck. The flood drew me to roadside plants, and at last I've begun walking again in the bush, on the headland and through farmland, after nearly a month of slug behaviour, incarcerated indoors by catering and computer addiction and for at least part of that time by a recalcitrant knee (if I don't walk, I won't find out how bad it is).
Roadside during the flood gave me whiteness: bursaria, ti trees, and what charms my camera most: that flat flowering, pink, white and green, that curls up into a ball as it dies and lightens the landscape with its delicacy. It doesn't matter that it's a feral.
I've finally entered J's vegetable dome on a picking expedition and was enchanted by my old friend, the zucchini plant. Many years ago in my incarnation as labourer in our market garden I harvested zucchini. I can still feel the abrasion on my tender damp unaccustomed academic arms as I parted zucchini leaves to seek out the gleaming shapely tubes, rounded at the end and sometimes with the showy yellow flower still attached. At market I arrayed them on an old door with all our other produce, and the people of Moruya asked “What's THAT?” This was in the 1980s. Now they take kale and quinoa in their stride.
On the headland is a grand old banksia. The flowers are over 20cm tall, with a diameter of around 12 cm, and some still stand erect and pale yellow, amongst the big bad banksia men cones. Once the tree was unreachable unless you wanted to brave snakes in long marshy grass, but since the fire brigade engaged in a protective burn I can walk confidently over short grass to admire its grandeur.
Also on the headland, an unexpected wattle with balls of pale yellow flower, little fists of buds and long lanceolate leaves curving around clusters of blossom.
Walking through farmland I came across another majestic tree, a little bit out of zone: the bunya bunya pine (Araucaria bidwillii). It's a relative of the monkey puzzle tree from Chile, an ancient tree from Gondwana and the age of conifers, a survivor from the time before the arrival of true flowering plants. The female cones contain edible nuts and Bunya Mountains in Queensland were the site for Aboriginal gatherings and feasting: unusually for Aboriginal people some trees seem to have been owned by specific families. My bush tucker book has three recipes using bunya nuts: toffee nuts in rum, chocolate roughs with bunya nut pieces, and witjuti (witchetty) grub and bunya bunya soup
In the reserve by the river is another treasure: Tristaniopsis laurena, the water gum or Kanuka box, used for coach and boat-building, cabinet work, tool handles and golf club heads. This information comes from a book that is also a treasure: the bible of local rainforests, Floyd's Rainforest trees of south-eastern Australia. J bought me my own copy recently, $5 from the Salvation Army op shop. Floyd reveals the poetry of bark in his meticulously factual description:
Outer bark: Light grey, shedding in thin papery flakes or strips. Underbark cream with plum patches, then brown and cream in alternate layers, very thin. Outer surface of live bark with cream-brown and light green blotches.
The flowers are hard to capture: two cameras and two visits still didn't quite nail it.
There is an escalation of thistles, all very well as decoration on a Scotsman's sporran, but a real pest here, especially since the ground is already deep in thistledown: too late to stop them proliferating this season.
Australia doesn't have the autumn falling, but leaves do part company with their tree and they are one of my favourite photographic subjects. A gravel road or grass make a good background to showcase their diversity.
And then of course a miscellany within a gallimaufry: chicory flowers, lomandra fruits, a delicate fungus (awful name for something so beautiful), spiky grass and a tree fern against the sky.
My preference, I thought, was for flowers in the wild, but my daughter-in-law filled the house with domesticated flowers and I was entirely charmed. The zinnias came from J's dome (it was a bouquet of zinnias he brought me when our first child was born): the three lavish vases of roses, jasmine, and gardenias from the garden of her friend. I admired the background ferns, and discovered that they came from my own garden.
Pingback: Looking down | snippetsandsnaps
icelandpenny said:
“gallimaufry” — the joy of reading an author who uses such words accurately and joyously, and without the slightest arrogance or apology — indeed, paying us the compliment of assuming we know its meaning, or will be delighted at the invitation to go look it up…
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
It’s weird. Your comment directed me back to this post just as I wrote another post about bunya pines. I must confess that “gallimaufry” wasn’t a word that tripped off my tongue without help – I found it on a search for synonyms. You made my heart leap calling me an “author”!
LikeLike
susurrus said:
My sweetheart loves gallimaufry gardens – that’s how he describes his own cottage garden in Mississippi. I think the chicory flowers are my favourites – that’s such a hard colour to capture.
LikeLiked by 1 person
pommepal said:
Well you’ve done it again Meg, taught me a new word, “Gallimaufry”, I had to ask Google for the meaning…Now I will have to use it a few times so I can remember it. I loved this beautiful rambling collection of flowers, plants, leaves and other miscellaneous bits of nature found in your part of the world. I was surprised to see Wattle still flowering and the vibrant sky blue of the cornflower rivals the blue of the sky. Lovely gallery. Hope your knee improves with the exercise, it is so annoying to have to slow down to accommodate the various aches and pains.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Confession time. “Gallimaufry” didn’t leap immediately to mind. I too went to Mr Google, seeking synonyms for “jumble”. And guess what I found? A word that was familiar, but didn’t exactly leap to the finger. I too was surprised by wattle, although it’s everywhere now I’m attuned. As for the knee: it only stopped me because I was fearful that it would. It allows me to do whatever I set out to do, although my wants don’t include anything dramatic. Thanks for good wishes.
LikeLike
pommepal said:
Very interesting what can be found on Google, a constant source of information as I surf from site to site. (can be a bit of a time waster too)
LikeLike
Heyjude said:
My macro lens is itching to come out there. What beauties you have found for us this time Meg. I almost wish you would break your post up into smaller sections so I can savour them more. By the time I reach the end I have forgotten the beginning! The beautiful cup shaped umbelifer, the curl of the courgette flower, the delicate pom-poms and the cobalt blue chicory. Sorry to hear about your injury. I must have missed a post somehow. And how I laughed at ‘Gallimaufrey’ 🙂
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
This post was like Topsy: it just grew and kept growing, and becoming awkward and unmanageable. I’m glad you enjoyed it (note the defiance of “midsummer”). I could’ve used your lens and your expertise, particularly for the tristaniopsis flower. Any idea what my favourites are? – those plates that curl?
LikeLike
Heyjude said:
They look like wild carrot – Queen’s Anne Lace in the USA.
LikeLiked by 1 person
morselsandscraps said:
Re your last garden post. Has anyone else had trouble? It won’t let me in. I’ll try again on laptop next time I get it out.
LikeLike
Heyjude said:
What? My garden(s) are always open to all. You can’t read it? Comment on it? Oh, dear… 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lucid Gypsy said:
Oh, it’s the fungi? 🙂
LikeLike
Lucid Gypsy said:
Meg what treasure, tell me what is the silver disc that looks like a sea anemone? And have you tried witjuti? How is your daughter doing? I hope she and your foot are on the mend.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
I haven’t tried witjuti – more evidence of my lack of daring: or maybe in this case it’s lack of opportunity. My daughter (thank you) is well enough to begin a slow drive south: she’ll be here in eight days. Not my foot – my other daughter fell down a rocky crevasse and scraped herself up to the knee. No sign of blood poisoning. For me (to continue the litany!) a touch of arthritis in the knee. Not to worry about at 71: just need to persist with quadriceps exercises. Too much information??
LikeLike
Rosemary Barnard said:
The blue chicory flowers and the banksia leaves are my favourites in this lovely collection.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
I can’t resist that copper sulphate blue: cornflowers were my favourites as a child. Is chicory a more sophisticated taste?
LikeLike
desleyjane said:
What beautiful photos and an entertaining post. Gallimaufrey is a word I’ve learnt today 😉
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
A very useful word, when structuring a post is beyond one!
LikeLiked by 1 person
desleyjane said:
Haha. Good one.
LikeLike
Nandini said:
Absolutely loved your pictures. They are full of nature and shot so well. 🙂 Kind of reminded me of myself and how I often see stuff around.
Nice to meet you, Meg. Following you! Hope to see you around. 😉
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Hello Nandini. Thanks for your appreciation and for following. I need to say I notice many things, but I also miss so much – like the ferns in my own backyard. As a solitary walker I don’t usually notice that I don’t notice.
The perfect opportunity to ask a question that always arouses my curiosity. How did you stumble across my blog?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nandini said:
From Jo’s blog. ‘Restlessjo’? 🙂
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Oh, I owe Jo so much! Thanks for satisfying my curiosity.
LikeLiked by 1 person
restlessjo said:
I came here to cheer you up this morning, and find myself bowled over by all this loveliness! Hard to be downhearted in the midst, Meg! 🙂 I particularly like that first gallery- the bulb shape, and that explosion of droplets which is a dying flower. But then the zucchini are very alluring. and that exquisite close up of the yellow flower against the bark! And a flurry of blue 🙂 Just lovely!
I love to have fresh flowers on my hearth. Almost never from our garden 😦
Sorry to hear about the knee, Meg. All that scrambling on rocks won’t have helped but it does make you cross when the body doesn’t perform as required. Sending hugs! On to the next ‘gentle’ adventure.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Thank you for coming to cheer me up. I suspect my knee was the result of a month without walking, to my shame. My three luxuriant vases of fresh flowers have faded to one small vase. A fitting symbol of the emptiness with the mob gone, leaving only beautiful memory traces (and a sock and a pair of underpants!)
LikeLike
restlessjo said:
Funny how those odd socks linger 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sue said:
I always enjoy your prose, Meg…..’your tender, damp unaccustomed academic arms’ had me smiling! And I enjoyed the variety of plant life on show here
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Thanks Sue. Don’t expect me to talk as I write. This particular post has taken me about three weeks to write and then I had to hide stylistic inadequacies behind gallimaufry!
I can still remember vividly that first zucchini pick.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sue said:
Well,alas I have no patience for perfecting prose…
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Who said anything about perfecting???? And I’ll bet your conversation is perfect!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sue said:
My conversation is rather less than perfect, Meg!!
LikeLike
Faraday's Candle said:
Beautifully detailed photos.
Australia sounds like such an amazing place!.
Beautiful.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Australia is amazing – at least the bits of it I’ve seen. I know my own little bit of it very well. Your blog looks amazing too. Why did it come along just as I’m trying to beat my addiction to other people’s worlds? I’ll be an occasional visitor, because what I’ve looked at is a bit irresistible.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Faraday's Candle said:
Thank you so very much for your wonderful comment!!
You will always be welcomed over at faraday’s Candle.
LikeLike
Suzanne said:
Great photos and very informative. The ferns against the sky is and excellent shot.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
“Gallimaufry” was the perfect word for the jumble of recalcitrant prose that attached itself to this post! I nearly didn’t post the ferns, but they took my fancy too. I’m glad you liked them.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Suzanne said:
I meant to comment on the word – I don’t know it. I was on my tablet when I wrote my comment. Typing on that defeats me sometimes.
LikeLiked by 1 person