Botanic Gardens, Cooktown

Tags

archaeology, benches, Botanic Gardens, Cooktown orchid, ponds, stonework

Three years after the first European settlers arrived in Cooktown, a botanic garden was proposed. By 1878 ‘Queens Park’ was a reality. Water was diverted, wells sunk, fountains erected, greenhouses and formal gardens constructed. It was the pride of the town and the centre of dignified recreation.

By 1896, money was getting a bit scarce, so townspeople could subscribe to the gardens, in return for a weekly bunch of flowers. Gradually, as prosperity dwindled, the gardens were ignored and reverted to weeds and shapelessness. In 1979, the site was cleared for an arts festival and signs of former splendour were uncovered. Cook Shire Council began the business of restoration and expansion. Some original plantings are still there and so is a lot of granite stone pitched channelling. Without documents, restorers depend on archaeology to show what the gardens used to be like.

As I ramble around I stumble across the circles of the old fountain, and stone channels and ponds. I visit the garden beds where flowers were grown to sell, and loiter near lily ponds. I encounter the Cooktown orchid, unfortunately behind wire, and the Vanilla orchid, unfortunately not flowering. The feeling is of parkland, and their are many invitations to sit: smoothly carved benches announce the name of the timber they are made of and encourage contemplation of the prospect.

 

Vanilla orchid

Cooktown orchid

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Butterflies and iron

Tags

benches, Butterly Sanctuary, street art

Do I want to see butterflies in captivity? I'm ambivalent. Caged butterflies is an incongruous idea. But I decide to catch the bus to the Kuranda Butterfly Sanctuary anyway. I pay my $15 and find myself stepping gently, awed by the swift bright flutterings all around me, and smiling that smile of pure delight. I notice that some wings look a bit raggy, but I can't stop being completely charmed. I stand still and a butterfly lands on my spectacles: later I notice people looking at me, and a woman says “There's one on your hat”. A little girl cries “There it is … Oh it's gone”; and a father holds a tiny baby close enough to see one poised on a fern. Yes, I did want to see butterflies in captivity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the delicacy of butterflies I move on to the solidity of iron. Thirteen local artists and fabricators collaborated on the street artworks, commissioned by the local council. Some of the art is made from railway and pioneer artefacts, the most striking the bench with a seat made of recycled railway tracks. I don't actually test it for comfort, but I have my doubts. Handrails, signposts, seating, rubbish bins and bollards, all in tune with rainforest and village atmosphere were designed and forged by Hans Pehl. The Aboriginal murals were all designed by local Aboriginal artists: the circular mural is one of five representing the indigenous communities along the Barron River.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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In Cairns streets

Tags

benches, buses, flowers, garbage tins, information panels, public art, public toilets

Cairns city is beautifully kept. Gardens between lanes of traffic are lush; garbage tins are decorative with sea-theme cutouts or spectacular photos; benches are mosaiced; public toilets are bright with underwater images; luminous information panels sport archival photos or photos of natural splendours; the bus shelter (where I spent too much time because I can't read a timetable) has a transparent roof with the imprint of fronds or sea blobs; there are quirky signs to make you smile; and the occasional piece of street art. The sky, sometimes cloudy, sometimes clear tropical blue, is shaped by the silhouettes of street palms. Even fallen flowers and buses with their pictorial advertising are attractive. I love Cairns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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