In the rainforest

Went walking with Ruth, from O'Reilly's along the Lyrebird Lookout track. I haven't yet learned to love the rainforest. When you walk along a track, the trees and vines are so dense about you that you can't see the trees. We were walking among giants, but it is so difficult to see what any tree is. You recognise that there must be a brachychiton near, because, scattered on the forest floor are its bright red flowers. And the forest floor signals the changes in vegetation, as we increased in altitude, with the leaf litter going from large broad leaves to the very much smaller Antarctic Beech leaves. Only the epiphytes, the elkhorns, the crows nest ferns and the orchids finding a place to live in the bark cracks are discernible. And the fungi and lichens. Only when we walked along the road, could we see how magnificent the trees really were.

In the early part of the walk we saw a lot of white-browed wrens feeding in the leaf litter. Along the track, again looking at our feet we saw large snail shells which according to Ruth had been eviscerated by Noisy pittas. And finally, as we were about to leave the track, we saw a satin bower bird near his extremely gaudy bower, decorated in bright bits of blue from human artefacts: the second bower we had seen that day, with the earlier one using the blue tail feathers of scarlet rosellas for its blue accents.


Flame Tree at Moran's Falls


View from Lyrebird Lookout


Walking stick palm & fruit

Queensland's Constitution

Paul Kelly, Kev Carmody, Frank Hardy, Vincent Lingiari


Former Legislative Council Chamber


Stained glass window: Queen Victoria


Inner courtyard of Queensland Parliament House

I spent yesterday at a symposium to celebrate Queensland's 150th birthday: The Queensland Constitution, its origin and evolution.

Lots of speakers, but the two most impressive to my mind were Justice James Allsop, and Pat King, J. (I need to have the documentation to hand to say precisely who they are..) All the speakers read from their papers (to be published) and did an impressive job of skipping pages to fit to the timeline.

Allsop was extremely interesting in his history of the NSW parliament and the various strands of intense feeling, and the forming different alliances, in the efforts of the colonists to rid themselves of the executive dictatorshop of the penal settlement. So I am sort of looking forward to the book.

The conference was held in the old legislative council chamber (the LC was abolished in 1922, after many years of effort), which we reached by crossing from the parliamentary annexe. Hence the paintings, improperly photographed & shown here. Somewhat surprising were the wooden verandahs round this inner courtyard. Odd for such a majestic building (at least from George & Alice Streets.) (I think we were shown the dirty linen. But probably everyone is so used to it, they don't notice it.)

I had paid to go to the dinner, but there was a gap of two hours between pre-dinner drinks and the dinner, and the end of the conference, and my courage failed me. A pity, I had planned to see the strangers dining room.

The Old Man

Rowers on the Brisbane River, March 2008

Well, it's not me on the river. But this morning was the last day of the level 3 rowing and the morning was as perfect as this, and the traffic (rowers) was at least comparable if not greater.

I am a better rower than I was, but still not fit to be let loose on the river by myself, so I'll do another level 3 (single sculls) course with UQBC.

It was a perfect morning, one of those mornings for which the old man used to say "Haec Dies" (This is the day the Lord has made...). And I missed him, looking down the river at the perfect morning.

Miscellany

Kurilpa Street Bridge.


Spilling spoons sculpture. South Bank.


Early morning rowers on the river.

I am trying to document both the Kurilpa Street Bridge and the Hale Street Link. They will only be built once, so each day is a unique snapshot of their progress. Here, the bridge looks to me like a ship.

Sometimes, in the morning, rather than swim at the UQ pool, I swim at Streets Beach and breakfast at South Bank. The morning is a lovely time to be there and the spilling spoons sculpture (who is responsible for this beautiful object?) was spilling water in its lovely random fashion.

And, finally, I am a very lucky person learning to row on the river. Although my last expedition (in a sharpish wind) we cut short because of its hazardous nature.

Talks

Banco Court. Brisbane Law Courts Complex, 304 George St., Brisbane.


Forecourt of the Law Complex

I have been going to a lot of talks. The series at the court above was the most notable. Sarah Worthington gave the UQ T.C.Beirne lectures on equity and property and how it affects, could affect claims after death, bankruptcy. I felt almost a complete clown after the first one, but I persisted for the full three. I suspect that the principles of which she was speaking generally only come into play when the litigants are two banks. In any case, it was clear that you would need to be very well heeled and know that the fight was worth it, that is, that there would be money at the end.

The room was hung with portraits of scarlet-robed judges and outside were historical displays relating to federation: so lots of paintings of the Lucinda, on which and from which our crappy constitution was drafted. And then portraits galore, timelines, people, actually a pretty good display.

I also went to a talk about Israel and Palestine, given by an Israeli peace activist, Jeff Halper. I do not find his position to be rational at all, despite his evident good will. Israel will continue with its program of genocide. However, I did buy his book and am struggling reluctantly through it. The talk was given in the parliamentary annexe of the Queensland parliament. So I am slowly exploring Brisbane. The room used contained four paintings of the one aboriginal prisoner, together with a note of the person to contact should you wish to acquire such an artwork. (I didn't.)

And last and exceedingly least, two appalling talks at the Royal Historical Society's commissariat store: on on Wickham, general administrator (?), just prior to separation, and another on Henry Cape, a sea captain.

Going to Newcastle

Paperbark in the Wetlands.
Hunter Botanic Gardens (just out of Newcastle)


Angophoras & Banksias. Hunter Botanic Gardens.


Wetlands. Hunter Botanic Gardens.


Went to Newcastle on the weekend. It took far longer than I had anticipated to get to Fassifern from the Williamtown airport, and of course a great deal longer because firstly our aircraft was late, secondly having been loaded aboard, the plane was not fit to fly and hence we were loaded into buses, zoomed around the airport and came back to where we started, to an almost identical plane and by this time Qantas was desperate to beat the curfew at Williamtown...... A long, long journey. I left the University at 3.15, got to Rob's by midnight.

On Saturday, in the rain, we drove up to the Hunter Botanic Gardens, which I had wanted to see. They were very different from most botanic gardens, for the most part we were walking on paths which looked to wind through the wilderness. They were lovely in the rain.

(The wetlands almost look to have been specifically created, with all those drowned and dead trees.)

Toowong cemetery

Kangaroo sprawling in the midday sun. CBD Brisbane


Russian orthodox graves. Toowong Cemetery.


War graves


Mayne family grave. Toowong cemetery.

Janie spent the night here on the way to the Tasmanian wooden boat festival. I've wanted to check out the Russian orthodox graves at Toowong cemetery for a while, so that's where we headed before we had to head out to the airport for her flight.

We were intrigued by the fact that the Russian orthodox graves were scattered all over the cemetery. And by the sheer number of them.

And it was also a surprise to see the war graves, forming part of a general cemetery, and in addition with wives and mothers, and fathers interred in the same grave long after the death of the man who had served. Again, despite the bulk of the war graves being in a common area we found those commonwealth war plaques scattered about the cemetery (particularly for those who served in a war, but had died long afterwards in peacetime).

(I photographed the kangaroo the day before on my way to meet Janie at Roma Street station.)

North Stradbroke Island

A Mangrove island in Moreton Bay. North Stradbroke Island in the background.


Pandanus. Cliff face, North Stradbroke Island.


Male pandanus in flower. North Stradbroke Island.


Pandanus & Casuarina. North Stradbroke Island.

Used the satnav to get myself to the North Stradbroke Island ferry terminal, yesterday.

My first taste of ocean water since coming up to Queensland. Swam regardless of the beach being closed, but with great care. I don't believe that there was no safe place to swim on Main Beach. In the end we swam in where it was probably far more dangerous. In a little narrow gorge with a very strong sideways and outwards pull. So I simply lay down in water about a foot deep and let the lovely incoming waves break over me.

Mainly took photos of the beach casuarinas and the pandanus. And saw for the first time that pandanus are dioecious. I find it really hard to find good botanical reference material on the web. So I haven't managed to track down the pandanus species despite it being found on every Queensland beach..

The mangrove island photograph was taken from the ferry jetty at Cleveland, with North Stradbroke Island in the background. Part of what makes Moreton Bay a water-bird refuge. It is truly an amazing bay. (Huge, and that is what makes finding a decent beach close to Brisbane virtually impossible.)

GPS

Pandanus on the foreshore of Redcliff Beach.


Casuarina. Redcliff Beach.


Mangrove at Nudgee Beach

The beaches on Moreton Bay (and all those that I have seen so far) are so different from what I know as a beach. I think it would take another lifetime to acclimatise me to them.

Pandanus and this incredibly dessicated looking casuarina are to be found on every beach I have so far seen. Shallow beaches, dirty water and warm. But there are all those islands off the coast, so the water is shallow and fed from all the muddy mangrove creeks and rivers...everywhere. Also incredibly salty.

I have brought up the car from Sydney using the old Satnav. But I clearly needed newer maps and so had to buy a new one (no maps available on the old one). So I was determined to venture forth and try the roads and the navigation.

I set out for Redcliff, having seen photos from a Flickr friend, but diverted to various places on the way. So I thought that Nudgee might serve for a swim. Clearly not. Great for fishing. And so I continued on.

The Norfolk pines of Redcliff looked somewhat the worse from the long drought, but it was a swimmable beach and so I swam.

The new satnav is not as satisfactory as the old: it does not automatically tell me to continue straight when I reach an intersection with millions of directions. You need to keep a sharp eye on the number of metres left before the turn or you will turn too early. Also the maps are crappy. We now have voiced streets, but this is not always helpful: Sir Fred Schonell drive becomes "serve ridge..." and Brisbane is pronounced with the last syllable rhyming with rain. Anyway it took me there and brought me home safely so I should not be complaining.

footnoted novels

Lilies and mistletoe. The dam at Pokolbin.


From de Beyer's road

I've been working my way through Walter Scott's novels. They are amazing. I love the long ironic introductions, with their kindly portraits of pompous, garrulous, or ignorant people and others, chatting about books, their readers and their purposes. The portraits from literary and legal life. I love the extensive footnotes, and the fact that he cannot say an unkind word about anyone.

At first you tend to skip the introductions and ignore the footnotes. But by the 10th book or so, they have started to grow on you. Some books have several introductions and prefatory notes. Sometimes they are wonderfully comic. They nearly all seek to show the tale was inspired by some factual happening.

I also love the essential equality of all the characters, peasants chat to queens and dukes, servants give more than as good as they get from their masters and are often funds of great goodsense. Legal eagles and those who aspire to be, wander through the tales and are made gentle fun of.

In any case, I could not recall the device of footnoted novels, which is Scott's practice. And had noted it also in Manzoni's "I promessi sposi" (but used there to quote written sources from the famine (1628) and the plague (1630) and hence function as they do in modern scholarship, while Scott's footnotes often use spoken sources and it's always unclear whether the sources are in anyway available.)

(Of course, when I hunted up footnoted novels on the internet, I found I had forgotten Umberto Eco, and Nabokov and of course, skads of others, including Georges Perec, mostly 20th Century writers. But each of them using footnotes for different purposes.

(The photos are from Christmas at Pokolbin. Such a beautiful place.)

And persisting....

Eastern Water Dragon by the Brisbane River


Mother & chick on the lily leaves. Southbank.

Wondering along on the way to University, I was reminded by gazing upon various animals, of the essential sameness of the bilateral design of birds, lizards, whales, humans, all with the virtually the same sets of bones: elongated, foreshortened, atrophied, different; and thought of the essential stupidity of the argument for God from intelligent design. It would seem that the designer has never got it right and just has to keep on experimenting.

And one does have to wonder about those, who, gratefully accepting all the wonders of modern science when it comes to interventions to save their lives, do not notice a parallel story of antibiotic drugs, rendered less useful, by the rapid evolution of the various viruses and bacteria. The design is neither finished nor final.

How I hate religion! (And there we go. We all seem to need something to demonize.)

To continue

Christmas at Pokolbin

You may wish to read the hysterical response in link from Crikey.com to Michael Backman's column

The original column of Backman's was not that good, but the response, both by the Age and by Margaret Simon indicates just how impossible it is make remarks critical of Israel.

For me, the truth of it all is that the policies, laws and wars of Israel are fundamentally racist and unjust.

I still find it extraordinary that anyone can justify or try to justify, making war on a whole population for the sake of two prisoners (the war on Lebanon) or of even several deaths, thereby killing thousands, maiming more and destroying the capacity to stay alive. The war in Lebanon and the war in Gaza are and were fundamentally racist. I would wish that there might be a sufficient groundswell to indict the Israeli government for war crimes.

(And I am reminded of a column I read before Christmas, where a fundamentally nice man, criticised us all - most appropriately - for taking moral positions on things over which we have no control, to feel good about ourselves, while turning a blind eye to our own moral failings... Spot on. But when the disconnect between the discourse and the fundamental facts is so great, it is difficult to believe one lives in the same world.)

(And the picture comes from my peaceful and happy Christmas, and celebrates Don's vegetable patches).

Electronic intifada

Seamist and sunlight. Whale Beach Road.

I have copied this from the electronic intifada.

Joseph Massad, the Electronic Intifada, 20 January 2009.

"The logic goes as follows: Israel has the right to occupy Palestinian land, lay siege to Palestinian populations in Bantustans surrounded by an apartheid wall, starve the population, cut them off from fuel and electricity, uproot their trees and crops, and launch periodic raids and targeted assassinations against them and their elected leadership, and if this population resists these massive Israeli attacks against their lives and the fabric of their society and Israel responds by slaughtering them en masse, Israel would simply be "defending" itself as it must and should."

I can fault nothing in this statement.

Sadly nothing will change with the change of presidents. Neither Australia nor the US will see Israel's acts as war crimes. The world will not become a better nor more just place, while US governments are captive of the Israeli lobby and refuse justice and human rights to the Palestinians. (Obama's inaugural speech indicated business as usual in the middle east: the Palestinians are guilty and innocent and guilty alike deserve at best to be driven from their homes or simply to die. Extra-judicial killing is OK. Clearly, the Palestinians are subhuman: For provocations equivalent to those of the IRA whole regions of the earth must be destroyed. Imagine the same logic applied by the UK government to Northern Ireland. It is quite unthinkable. Why?)

(And these are trees in my beautiful street. And I fear to say this.)

From Sydney to Brisbane

Bluff Rock. Near Tenterfield, NSW.


The Condamine. Warwick, Queensland

I drove up by the New England Highway. Someone suggested to me that it would be the better, safer route. I'm not entirely sure about that. True that for many stretches of the road there was just me. But the distance was longer and it was a two lane highway (one lane one way, the other the other) which I hate as it doesn't allow any room for error.

I used the satnav and hence had no idea about intermediate towns or the length of the journey itself. Staging myself with directions to the next turn (204.7 km to the right...) I hadn't realised that it took in all the little towns on the way, so that there was need for a constant attention to the speed signs and the route to the upper Hunter from Newcastle seemed to consist of a constant chain of towns each extraordinarily close to the other.

Each staging post being a town, petrol and food were largely separated which is not the case for Highway 1, from Melbourne to at least Newcastle, so I had to revisit my strategy for these two items.

From Glen Innes, where I slept the night, all the way almost to Brisbane, it was an easy drive. Still not sure about the two lanes, though. I'll return via the coast and find out how horrible that is.

It was only when I felt that Brisbane was within reach that I started to take photos. (And then my battery ran out. I will be buying a spare.) The Condamine I had to photograph because of Don and it was there that the battery ran out. (There was some stunning scenery, a really beautiful drive.)

Christmas

De Beyer's vineyard. (Taken on a walk with the girls. Pokolbin.)


View across the vineyard to the mountains beyond.


Poinsettia. Palm Beach.

I had been dreading Christmas, but despite its various disappointments, it was much nicer than I had hoped. It was a real joy to have us all together and to be able to enjoy the children and the grandchildren.

Very hard on the N's to organise themselves and the children. I don't expect they will repeat the exercise in a hurry, but it was terrific nonetheless and probably would not have happened but for Don's stubbornness (determination).