It's seven in the morning, the sun is well-up and we are driving up the mountain. We've both felt the calling to visit Tinbeerwah.
Half-way up and we're in forest, scribbly gums reaching into cool blue. Aah, nice!
We pull off the road to have our little chat with the forest to say hello. And we give thanks to all who've cared for this wonderful place, keepers of Nature, time before time, and on into time.
Currawong leads off up the road, calling a melodious encouragement to follow. So we do.
Park the car. Back packs on, we step onto the path, marked out on solid rock. We're on the shoulder of an ancient volcanic rhyolite rock mass.
Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
In this open space where no trees grow, we are dismayed to discover that everything is under severe stress, so very dry. In six weeks, we've had not a drop of rain, tap turned off, endless sunshine.
Grass clumps are bleached, bushes and mosses withered, all appears dead, underfoot a crisp crackling.
Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
"But," we say hopefully,"surely only lying dormant." Surely it will all spring alive with growth when the wet season arrives.
Balls of a spikey grass still hold some green. Here and there, the early morning light sets aglow the fine hairs that cover the few remaining leaves, the stems and the tightly spiralling buds of the hibiscus.
Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
Image: Rosalie Hall
And then amidst the parched montane shrubbery, a miracle of a bush in full flower, localised here, in its element, a survivor.
Commersonia viscidula. Image: Rosalie Hall
It's many many years since last I walked here, and then it was to see the orchids flowering across this very rock shoulder.
Venturing out where the shoulder sits wide and level, I'm looking for any sign, maybe just leaves. But no, nothing.
Noosa River from Mt Tinbeerwah. Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
Out towards the sea, there's a hazy panorama of silver blue river dividing forest and hills. So beautiful. No wonder everyone wants to live here.
I turn back to the rock ledge. The remains of a night fire lay charcoal black amongst the russets, oranges and dusky blue-greys of the dry shrubs and grasses.
Image: Rosalie Hall
My walking buddy is thinking about the many fires that might have lit the dark over hundreds, even thousands of years in this very place.
It feels good standing here, really solid. It has the feeling of a strong mother, maybe even an old mother, one who's been around awhile. Nothing hurries her. Everything in its own good time. Grounded.
Sun is warming, teasing the hibiscus to open pale, finely-veined and ever-so-elegant petals.
Hibiscus splendens. Image: Rosalie Hall
We make our way back to the track. A guard rail warns of the sheer vertical drop on the right hand side. Oooo.
Image: Rosalie Hall
Ring bolts are driven into the rock for the adventurous who love to raise adrenalin by dropping over the side. Not for this little black duck. It's enough for me to walk this path, dreadfully awkward around heights.
"Ilyhana, come. Come and see. A treasure trove." Her voice is calling me up the track, excited. It's shady here, trees growing out of crevices on either side of the track and down into the deep hollows, making canopy and protection for plants.
Oh for goodness sake! Rose wants me to stop and look at something by the track. The drop is only feet away here. Horror. Do we have to stop here?
Image: Rosalie Hall
I sit down so I don't have to see how far down it is.
OK what are we looking at here?
And yes, it is magic. Here, a little plant with pendulous pink flowers, four petals around a dark centre, so delicate floating up the stems. And there a bush of yellow pea flowers with rich brown centres. Ah but look just over the edge there (OMG not looking over the edge please)...a little garden of silver-grey stone and rambling pink petals. (I did manage a quick peep.)
Black-eyed Susan,Tetratheca thymifolia. Image: Rosalie Hall
Image: Rosalie Hall
We move on and up, taking in the expanding views. I look around and catch a visual of Rose in contortions, getting the good shots.
Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
The track moves steadily upward. A ripple of scarlet amongst a feather fluff and there he is, gorgeous little creature, jenny-wrens flitting while he pops along the twig in his very best pose.
Red-backed wren. Image: Rosalie Hall
We're going for the little wooden shelter at the top now. I'm not looking at the view anymore...just focus on the path, focus, focus. (It's really not that bad here, just high and I'm so wimpy up high)
Up in the shelter, it feels somehow safe now to take in the 360 degrees of the wide sweeping beauty of our home country, the peaks of Cooran, Cooroora, Cooroy, and round to Ninderry and Coolum. And oh, so much forest. We are so lucky to live here.
Mt Cooroora from Tinbeerwah. Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
A brisk, edgy cool breeze urges a return to sheltered space for rest and munchies.
We wander back down the path. The hibiscus are unfurling, blowing open to the day.
Hibiscus splendens. Image: Rosalie Hall
I chat to some folks who are resting, taking in the sun and the view.
We throw our backpacks in the car. Driving downhill, we stop at a side gateway, a little entranced by a woman-shaped tree. Other odd spiralling trees grow around her.
Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
And here we discover another treasure trove, no spin-out this time. Magenta pink "match-heads" on tall stalks, glossy orange berries on saw sedge, black hairpins on rusty banksia, cream curls of hakea, fleshy leaves and yellow blooms of goodenia.
Match-heads. Image: Rosalie Hall
Saw sedge. Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
Hairpin banksia. Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy
Hakea in flower. Image: Rosalie Hall
Goodenia. Image: Rosalie Hall
We give our thanks to the bush and the mountain for a delicious montane morning. And we'll be back when the orchids are in bloom.
Postscript: The following morning, showers of rain gave thirsty country a refreshing drink. Perfect.
If you'd like to do this walk, drive to Mt Tinbeerwah UBD Sunshine Coast Map 6: J 11. Wear shoes with good sole grip, and protective clothing, carry water and mobile phone. Warning signs mean what they say. Stay on the track and stay safe.
The track is not long from the carpark to the summit, and the grade is easy. The first stage is accessible for assisted wheelchair mobility.
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