The easing of Covid restrictions saw us hop in the car to visit relatives, a 6 hour drive away to the coast. What a treat!!
On the way, we passed these rather odd hay bales. I guess they must have been for the Queen’s Birthday weekend. back in June. I haven’t been out since long before then. To see the farmer’s previous efforts in a past post click here.
Love the queen!
When we got there, the beach was quite deserted
Even the usually frantic beachside cafe was quiet.
Today, I’m out and about. A dentist visit is cause for getting out of the house for a brief respite. The surgery is 60 km away from the farm. Having been cooped up at home due to Covid restrictions, it almost makes the trip sound enjoyable. except for the prospect of the dentist visit.
I’m actually returning to the place where I was born, Rochester, (Victoria, Austalia). I had the distinction of being the last baby born in “the old hospital”. My mother had nightmarish stories of her labour, when most of the hospital had shut down.No silver spoon or special gifts for me. I only lived there for the first two or three years of my life so I have no recollection of the town.
The town now boasts a population of just over 3000 people. Not many, given many of these would be living on farms. Still it’s large enough to support a dentist and a hospital. Its claim to fame at the moment are these grain silos. Silo art has become a ‘thing’ in regional Victoria
These silos was painted by Jimmy D’Vate. They feature an Azure Kingfisher and a Squirrel Glider. Both of these creatures are endangered. The Kingfisher is one of the smallest kingfishers in Australia and one that visits my farm every once in a while. Squirrel gliders don’t seem to come up this far north.
The town is dotted with murals on walls by various local artists. A kookabuura with strange breath and a historical view are among others.
I’ll always remember my brother-in-law, Richard’s words when he came to visit Australia many years ago. He was in awe of the space we have here to live in. He made me feel guilty that I had so much; acres of relatively unspoilt environment, when he’d travelled the rest of the world extensively and observed it to have way too many people struggling to survive with their lot. He was envious. I haven’t always seen it that way. The climate is harsh, dry in summer. Water is scarce, and nature seems to want to take back ownership, under its rule. It can be lonely. It can be threatening. It can be a struggle too in its own way. Having grown up in a city, I often yearned for what I missed. As the COVID crisis continues, I am acutely aware that I am so lucky to live where I live. It’s beauty is unique and the isolation is comforting. I’m enjoying sharing it here.
I’ve just returned home from travelling 6 hours south to the coast to visit family. It was the first opportunity to travel that I’ve had, since the COVID crisis. The country is so vast and sparsely populated, I saw very few people on the journey. On the way I passed these hay bales. Someone has gone to a great deal of effort. We celebrated Anzac Day, back in April. These represent the Australian soldiers lost in the war. Love their slouch hats made from corregated iron.
I went to Portland. It’s so different to where I live. Colder and damper. I visited the only mainland Gannet Colony at Point Danger. The misty rain added to the beauty.
The gannets huddled together on a lonely spot near the water’s edge. Gannets look like really big seagulls.