We took the dogs down to Bonnie beach for their walk so that I could take some photos of the area for you. It’s one of our shorter walks and is good to do when it’s hot or we are a bit late taking the boys for a walk. We have to be mindful of Bezials blackness and his propensity to get hot and bothered very easily and Bonnie beach has many shady nooks for him to slink into while we walk. It is a glorious day with amazing blue skies and the sun is beating down on our green vista absorbing the moisture from everything and rendering us officially humid. That’s the problem with living in Tasmania. It might only be 25C, but the humidity is 99% and you feel like you have been slid into a wood fired oven right next to the pizzas. We are so lucky to be out on the river where we have a constant breeze. The house faces the right way to catch the breeze and fend off the sun and we open up all of the windows and let the blowflies zoom straight through (if you can’t beat them… join them). We put Pingu out this morning with her kith and kin and she had a great time pecking away at the grain that I tossed out to force mediation and poultry integration. It was lovely to see Effel doocark down with her 3 babies calling them over to the grain and the old grand dame blue Wyandotte (most probably Effels mum) sitting with Effel and the babies and minding them for Effel while she headed off for a dust bath. Pingu got the occasional peck and after a bit of a tussle with the largest chick (a Wyandotte rooster for sure) she hid under Steve’s saw horse for a while and then headed off for a bit of a scratch.
The problem with Pingu is that she thinks she is human. She races for the door in Steve’s music room whenever we open it in the morning and could just as easily run straight into the gaping maw of Earl, as find our outstretched hand for her to hop on. She is too tame. She doesn’t know what danger is and as she isn’t used to the other chickens, she avoids them. Everyone knows (from David Attenborough documentaries) that predators ALWAYS pick off the weak and the singular and heading off on her own makes her a prime target. I know that we have to let Pingu find her way in the poultry world, but we don’t want her to get eaten because she is one of only 2 dark barred Plymouth Rock hens that hatched from the 24 fertilised eggs that we bought. Once she gets a little bit older (for older read ‘bigger’) it won’t matter if she wants to head off on her own into the wilderness. The cats won’t tackle an adult hen so she will be safe. We can’t let her wander about on her own at the moment because she heads straight for us and there is a gap under the dogs compound gate that she can run straight under. Even if we put a board over it, she is an excellent flyer and good luck to her chances should she decide to come home for a visit! The ducks have decided that I am ‘friend’ and come a lot closer to me now. I feel very privileged to have the birds feel safe with me and make sure to reward them accordingly with little treats and lots of tasty free range grains to feast on. They seem to love scratching around in the dirt more than getting their food from their food bowl so I broadcast it about for them and they all race over to get their fair share.
I am planning on spending this afternoon finishing off My Side of the Mountain. I am most pleased to report that this book is exactly as I remembered it and is rewarding my faith in it with a very good read. I don’t read anywhere near as much as I used to or should. I have an excellent imagination that cursed me for the first 17 years of my life with terrible nightmares and fear of the dark. Once I started to age a bit and was able to reason with myself, it became easier to sleep without the light on. I think that the best horror writers are those that spent their earlier years cowering underneath the sheets and making sure that NOTHING was visible for the monster under the bed to grab and pull back down to it’s lair. Fear and knowledge of those monsters allows a writer to be more graphic and honest (believable) about those monsters. There are none more believable than those who have lived through their own private monster hell. I have been there. Mine were vampires, werewolves, killer whales (don’t laugh), tidal waves and the worst were wolves. I had recurring nightmares about them. The only way that I stopped my night terrors was to say to myself when I woke on the verge of screaming “there are no wolves in Australia!” forget you Bruce Springsteen… this is one of many reasons why I am so VERY glad that I wasn’t born in the U.S.A! I can’t remember the last time that I had a nightmare. I vividly remember the last nightmare that I had. I was scrabbling up an incredibly steep cliff trying to escape a massive tidal wave that was rapidly approaching. I reached the top of the cliff and a wave of instant relief flooded over me when I looked over the edge to see my children cowering below me on the beach behind a large boulder. In my mind, the most terrible sense of finality and terror settled over me and I knew that they were doomed. In my dream, I stopped the wave from killing them. I would imagine it was a bit like that place where hypnotists can’t go. I was NOT going to allow my children to die so they didn’t. Simple as that. I can’t remember a nightmare since then. I dare say I just set myself up for a doozy in the near future, but hopefully my newfound stress-free lifestyle and happiness have given me a foil for my nightmares clutches.
Here are 9 of the pictures that we took today to show you why we live, where we live (hopefully I won’t get sued by Macca’ on a Sunday morning!) I am going to spread the 27 photos that I isolated as being the best of today’s efforts over 3 posts.
This is where we park the car to head off on our circuit of Bonnie beaches lovely scenery. We found a rigged handline down on the beach that we took out to the locals on the end of the pontoon. It is a full moon at the moment and so they probably have bucklies chance of catching anything, but hey, looking at the scenery, sharing some time together out on the end of the jetty, there has to be many worse ways to spend a lovely morning.
Thank goodness for Steve’s genetics! Ta Pat for marrying Pete so that Steve would have shoulders that could handle those 2 rogue mutts! As you can see, Bezial can’t wait to get out up to his expanding girth in the lovely cool water. There is something most sad and pathetic about a hot black dog. Earl only likes to get his toes wet but when he comes out of the water he shakes all over like he has been in up to his eyeballs. It’s good to get them wet at the beginning of a walk on a warmer than average day because it keeps them cool for longer and so we can keep our cool for longer )
This is our “Little Hamster”. Although small, it is surprisingly resilient and can pull like a Trojan. It may not be as fast as a sports car, but who needs a sports car when the rain has eroded your driveway and nothing short of a tractor can get up there? This photo was to show you the sea wall. The Tamar River has some awesome tides and the water comes right up the wall at high tide twice a day. I am sure this wouldn’t dissuade Bezial from attempting to jump in but Earl would not be interested without the safety of sand/pebbles under his paws
I just had to show you the amazing colour of the sand on this beach. Tasmania is one massive great extinct volcanic range and this is no more obvious than when you see some of the beach sand around. Isn’t it amazing? It is actually a fair bit darker than this but for some reason our camera decided to implement its flash for this photo. No idea why, but I don’t argue with technology. So long as it’s doing a rough approximation of what it is supposed to do, I let it be!
These pine trees gave off the most amazing scent. There is NOTHING like the smell of pine trees on a hot day. Sorry, there is one thing better…the smell of the lemon scented salmon gums in Kings park Perth on a hot day ). This is the first stretch of the walking circuit. Can you see why we like this walk? If it’s really hot we go the other way so that poor old tubby Bezial can hit this lovely shaded area last so that he is somewhat recovered by the time that we get back to the car.
This driveway leads to an amazing red house that reportedly cost a couple of million to build. I think it might be the house that my Certificate 3 lecturer James’ partner is producing a landscape design for. We have isolated it down to here James! ) We couldn’t take you further down this inviting track dear constant readers because there was a private property sign just behind me and we don’t fancy pants full of buckshot
Here is the beginning of the somewhat steep ascent around the corner from the pine tree shot. This is a really pretty area with some very old houses. I decided against putting houses in my posts as I feel that is a bit of an invasion of someone’s privacy. Their gardens are fair play. You can tell that this area is an old settlement by the size of the European trees lining the road. It certainly packs a punch of aesthetic pleasure in one small walk (starting to talk like a landscape designer…hopefully should my lecturer EVER happen on this blog he will give me a tick for that attempt )
Here’s the hill. I don’t mind walking the dogs and hitting a hill now. We have built in tanks to tug us. It’s that good with the bad thing. Everything has good points and bad points and hills are where we appreciate the boys tugging ability. Bezial hauled me straight up a 45 degree slope today without pausing for breath. Not bad for a dog half my weight!
I just really loved the configuration of these large conifers. Someone a fair while ago could see what these would look like when they grew. That is what I am looking for…future vision! Sort of like X-ray specs but I don’t want to see through the garden, just what it is going to look like when it has reached maturity.
That’s your 9 photos for today. I enjoyed sharing them with you and despite not being able to sense what we sensed on our walk, you should get some sort of idea about why we love living in this area. These photos were taken in Kayena. We live over the water from here but we are not the only ones that liked the area enough to want to move in. Rebecca Gibney of “Packed to the Rafters” fame owns a property (and used to live) just around the corner from Bonnie Beach. She is selling up because of the imminent threat of the Pulp Mill going in directly opposite her large riverfront property. Can’t say I blame her. It’s another case of what’s bad in one situation, could have a silver lining in another…if the current economic climate keeps getting worse and Europe collapses, there is no WAY that Gunn’s will be able to fund their corrupt Pulp Mill and there won’t be anyone clambering for the pulp that they want to produce. Sorry Europe, I can’t help but have my fingers crossed that your misfortune will be our gain. See you all tomorrow when I will share some more photos of our delightful walk with you )