Sunday Morning Snapshot

After a very wet Saturday, we woke to a sun-shiny Sunday morning.

The sky was a soft blue, the leaves sparkling with dew and … uh-oh, I’m in danger of turning this into a cheesy poem!

We had “our” secret magical lake all to ourselves again this morning. That’s not always the case, as it really is the perfect photo op’ for novice and professional photographers.

But, if we get there early, we’re usually in luck.

At the risk of repeating, I’m posting a few (new) pics of our morning walk – I hope you don’t mind, but I really love sharing some of the magic with you.

 

Then, we went to one of our favourite cafés on the mountain, ‘ripe’.

This is a quaint little old wooden cottage situated in the pretty mountain town of Sassafras. Great food, even better coffee.

And, they make a mean soy hot chocolate! At the bottom of this glass, is a real treat - melted Lindt chocolate. Mmmmm.

Tucked away nicely off the main road, this café seems tiny, but inside is deceptively spacious. And in winter, a welcoming fire is always blazing.

However, it's rare that we ever go inside. Why? Because we usually have Jack with us, of course! :)

I would rather be outside, in all weather, with him than leave him in the car or tied up outside. And if the weather is too unsuitable, well, we simply get takeaway. That’s just us. 

But, we’ve found that we’re not alone.

Ripe café has become a meeting place for locals and their canine companions. And we are very grateful that our pups are welcome there. Not inside of course, but the generous seating area out front under the lovely old birch tree is often graced with wagging tails.

Here’s a regular customer, beautiful "Bella", AKA "the Mayoress of Sassafras". She is a well known and loved identity in the town :)  And, if you look carefully, you’ll see a wee Schnoodle at table 26.

 

 These two sweeties are waiting patiently for mum and dad

We always have the “chubby gubby” with us - Jack’s back pack. It holds his café essentials like a padded mat to lie on, his collapsible water bowl, a bottle of water, a towel and his other collapsible bowl with a zip lock baggie containing his all important breakfast biccies.

 Um, biscuits perhaps?

Now that he’s a senior citizen, Jack gets lifted into and out of the car – wanna save those old bones and ligaments as much as possible – not mine, his.

“I’ll get Jack, you get the chubby gubby”, one always says to the other. Oh dear.

Still waiting here… hello?

Quick story about “the chubby”. A few years ago, I decided I wanted to find a good backpack to fit all of Jack’s stuff in – instead of the old shopping bag we used. A doggie travel bag.

When out and about one day, I passed, then went into, a baby store.

I found the perfect bag.

While paying for it, the woman at the counter asked me, “buying this for the new grandchild?”

Without thinking, I replied, “no, it’s for my baby”, and walked out with the bag under my arm.

As I walked away, I realised I left the poor woman with her mouth open. It was too late to go back and explain, so I decided to leave her to her imagination :)

 

So, this morning was the perfect start to our Sunday.

And, Jack did get his biscuits. Of course.

From my brush

My mother used to lament, “I can never find any pens, they’re all in Vicki’s room!”

It’s true. From a young age, I was always doodling, sketching, drawing. If a pen happened to be in my presence, I would use it to draw something or other, mostly dogs and horses - especially their eyes. And so, they would gravitate back to my room.

Pens were my friends. Art was my solace.

Throughout school, I enjoyed creating art with all the mediums presented to us. Charcoal, pastels (chalk and oil), watercolours, acrylics, various mixed media, including fabric.

 fabric painted owls

For a short term in high school, we explored clay. I fell in love with the wonderfully earthy, tactile, sticky ‘mud’ that allowed me to lose myself and form whatever came from deep within. It hooked me and I loved it.

I remember sitting quietly, totally absorbed. And before I knew it, I had sculpted a horse head. I was indeed very proud of myself. The hundreds of horses I sketched came through my hands into 3D!

After it had been fired, and before I could take it home, my sculpt was stolen. Gone, but my first clay art not forgotten.

Repeated requests to my mother to buy clay and take my interest further were denied – “too messy and a waste of time, do something useful… and cleaner” she told me time and again.

Sadly, I placed my new found love for this medium on a high shelf. I had to say goodbye to my new friend… ‘til we'd meet again.

Fast forward to years later, in another time and place - my “Secret Hollow”. I began to study the birds around our property. And then, began to paint them. Mostly on native wood to complement them. Native birds on native wood.

Most of my work was sold to international tourists through a gift shop within a premier location in our beautiful country-coastal town. I often wondered what far off places my little birds flew to.
The brilliant violet-blue Splendid Blue (fairy) Wrens were most popular. These dear little birds were so loved in our little corner of South Western Australia.
The forest surrounding our cottage was home to many families of wrens. I enjoyed listening to their trilling little calls so much whilst we lived there.
It seemed perfectly natural to paint them. A kind of homage.

  Sacred Kingfisher

I painted most birds on wood pieces about 7.5cm by 10cm (3” x 4”). So, they were pretty small. At the time, I loved working in miniature.

spot the odd one out... a bandicoot!

I was also asked to paint lace bobbins for the local lace guild – and that’s tiny work!

Seriously, I don’t think my eyes would be up to painting that small anymore. But, it certainly was fun at the time. I challenged myself to see how small I actually could paint without losing detail. One of my trusty tiny brushes had only a few hairs in the ferrule!

 

 three photos of lace bobbin segmented to show an inch high Red-Winged Wren

I would also paint birds on clocks – a favourite, along with decorative plates.
 

Red Breasted Robins

I also painted portraits of animals. Many were at the request of dog clubs.

As an animal lover, I had a lot of joy painting them. And it was always so rewarding to hear the appreciative comments on how I captured their companions’ likeness.

I did get some odd requests for animals or birds cut out as doorstops. And, a carousel horse was a favourite project!

  

 commissions for a professional knife maker 

Hickory Dickory

I don’t paint a lot these days. Instead, an old 'friend' from long ago reawakened the memory of a dusty shelf, and reminded me that, “it's time to go on a different journey”. There were new paths to explore.

More on that in a future post.

*Apologies for the poor resolution in some images. They are scans of photos taken way back with my old camera – before the digital age :)

Weekend Walks

Spring has sprung and cast her vibrant green hues over the landscape. And today, I’d like to share with you some photos of our local scenic delight – the Alfred Nicholas Gardens.

  How lovely is this entrance?

This once private estate is now thankfully, open to the public and has become our favourite walk every weekend.

Situated in lush natural forest, the gardens range from wild, stunning deep green fern gullies with streams that are cool and damp all year round, to secret nooks with fishponds, to expanses of lawns dotted with majestic native and deciduous trees.

With 13 wonderful acres to explore, we never get tired of seeing it in all seasons. From the magical russet red/gold palette of autumn, the dark emerald cooling shade in summer, the cold, crisp beauty of winter and the verdant greens in spring.

As we walk along the many linking paths, we are surrounded by sentinels of mighty Mountain Ash (Eucalyptus Regnans), their 100 metre tall canopies towering overhead. Truly impressive!

The more cultivated parts of the gardens have many beautiful exotic trees and shrubs including, rhododendrons, azaleas, viburnums, magnolias, ginkgoes, cherries, elms, maples, oaks and liquidambars.

And, what I love most is the secret surprise - a truly lovely picturesque lake with waterfall and Japanese inspired bridges linking to a sweet little grassed island.

Tucked away at the end of the lake is a quaint little iconic boathouse. Reflected in the serene waters, it is one of the most photographed buildings in Victoria.

We always like to get there super early in the morning and have this enchanting realm “all to ourselves”… just for a wee while.

At any time of the year, it's like a little magical wonderland.

 And look who found a ball!
Left for him by the park fairies :)

Snakes Alive!

Part 2
Continuing on from Snakes Alive! Part 1... 

The area where we lived for sixteen years was known as “tiger snake country”. It wasn’t uncommon to have two or three in your back yard every summer, not including those outside the boundary in the forested areas. And that was just the ones that were seen.

One Summer, there was a mating pair living in our garden shed and one that resided on the verandah just outside our bedroom window. He was living, silently, within the thick ivy that covered one of the posts.
I only knew this because I happened to get a glimpse of him one morning. He was sunning himself on the ground just below his "home" - too close to where our young son played every day.
The snake needed to be removed.

A young snake catcher called Jeff came to relocate him. He told me that the snake had been living there for some time, as he had created platforms within the column of ivy. His very own condominium.
Huh. Right under our noses, so to speak. Now that we knew that he was there though…

Jeff was very patient in revealing and extricating the snake from his leafy inner sanctum. He needed time to allow the snake to "loosen up" so that he could be safely pulled free.
Eventually, he held the snake aloft, skillfully swinging him into his bag. It was clear that he was of mature size at 1.2 metres long!

So, all of the ivy was removed. A property such as ours - surrounded by natural bushland - was impossible to "snakeproof". We just did what we could to keep the gardens well maintained and try to eliminate possible snake havens close to the house.
Our son grew up well educated about them. Like most country kids.

I happened upon many snakes throughout the years on early evening summer walks, when they would come out of the bush to lie on the warm gravel back road. With little fear of disturbance, as few cars used this road, I had chances to get close and just observe. Mostly, they lay quiet and then slithered away.

My final encounter happened a month before we moved to the city.

It was early December. I took my then one year old Blue Heeler Jack for his walk in the afternoon. Past the community hall, on the wide sandy tracks and over some very low to the ground clover – same as usual. As we’d done a hundred times before.

As we walked, I checked back on Jack. He was no more than two metres, just behind me. Standing still. Looking down. Frozen.

To my horror, and as if it were a bad dream, I saw a long black slim head weave up out of the clover, stretching upwards - straight towards Jack!

The large black tiger snake connected and struck him right on the nose.

My blood ran cold. I felt weak at the realisation that my blue boy had been hit by one of the most venomous snakes in Australia.

“How could this be?” I remember thinking at the time. I was always so careful about where we walk. The clover was no more than just over an inch high – a clear view.

Somehow, with Jack behind me, I had just walked over a well concealed adult snake! Was I dreaming?

I won’t forget watching in horror as the yellow banded tiger retreated into the clover. I caught only glimpses of the large shiny black body undulating away towards the trees.

Wracked with sobs, I checked Jack’s nose, mouth, lips, gums for any drops of blood, any evidence at all. No time to waste.

Absolutely no symptoms and a thorough check by the vet concluded there was no bite.

I since learned that what happened on that afternoon was not uncommon.

Snakes generally do not and will not willingly bite anything that doesn’t represent a source of food for them.
And, if the presence of something much larger than them poses no threat, such as direct attack or is trodden on, then the chance of biting is rare. Snakes need to conserve their venom for their prey alone.

What happened to Jack was what is known as a “head butt” (some call it a dry bite). From the snake’s perspective, it was a warning.
Lucky, lucky dog.
And, referring back to my previous post where I mention the "freeze mode", I do believe that Jack posed no significant threat at that moment as he stood dead still, looking down at the snake.

Ever since that day, ten years ago, Jack has been kept on a short leash whenever we go for walks in the summer. He has shown a little too much interest in rustles in the grass.

So, I have a healthy dose of respect and awareness for much maligned, misunderstood reptiles. They are simply existing as best they can as mankind encroaches on their territory.

Reflecting back on the times I have been in the company of snakes in their habitat has been very interesting.
I found them to be fascinating, not frightening. I only worry about my dog's encounters, not my own.

If I could have my 'time' again, I would study herpetology. To be able take an active interest in the conservation of reptiles and amphibians and to understand these beautiful creatures even further.

Western Tiger Snake

 image by webecho via Flickr

 Jack, in "freeze mode"
it's OK, he was looking into the fish pond in our backyard. No snakes :)