Nurturing New Growth



New growth in the Firewheel Tree

 

It's been a dry dry spring since we planted our trees along the creek at Ninderry. Heavy mulching and bucketing water from the creek is seeing them through while they put down new roots to help them grab on when the flood rains come in a few months.

And wow, they're putting out new growth!

The brown pines have a whole new layer of soft lime green.

 

 

 

Brown Pines shooting forth.

 

 

It's incredibly rewarding to see trees respond to your efforts of dragging buckets of water from a creekbed. My little 3 year old grandson has been beside us all the way, lugging his bucket.

 

A rainforest baby.

 

Black Bean, Crows Ash, LillyPilly, Paperbarks, Eumundi Quandong and Palms are all doing well. We've not lost one.

Alex has worked like a Trojan and grubbed, pulled and chopped out the Camphor Laurel that was choking and poisoning the creek and the forest. Such a huge job. And now the light reaches the forest floor and the baby trees below the canopy. And they're loving it.

 

The creekbed at Ninderry...cleaned out.

 





 

So the creek is pretty low now and we're looking for early storms to replenish the remaining pools. Now that the Camphor Laurel is gone, we can see the baby native trees that have been struggling for some light. There are lots of little flame trees springing up, no doubt delivered thanks to Nature, from a neighbouring property.
Resident scrub turkey is just about swallowing one with enthusiastic nest building.

 



Baby Flame Tree





 

Scrub Turkey's footwork.

 

So far so good with our Tree Challenge efforts. It's a joy to watch them grow.



Earth Energies and Spirit of Place

Hi Everyone,

The first workshop in the series "The Earth is Alive!" happens on Oct 7th. Details are below and we are taking bookings now.

Give me a call if you'd like more info. Last day tomorrow for Early bird discount bookings for all three workshops.

And yes, please share this info with friends who may be interested.

Have a beautiful day.

With love, Ilyhana

Workshop 1. Everything Alive! Earth Energies and Spirit of Place. Sunday Oct 7th 9am for 9.30 start, to 4.30pm

A workshop experience to develop a deeper connection with the consciousness of Earth, learning to ground our energy and live harmoniously within the flow of Earth's energy system.

With heart-centred light activities, we'll cover the following:

• undoing the blockers in conditioned Western thinking
• understanding the basics of energy patterns (archetypes) and how they influence our lives
• learning to be conscious of and able to identify Earth energies
• an introduction to the art of sacred Earthwalking
• experiences of Nature's spiritual world
• a slideshow introduction to the geometrical patterns underlying Nature (Sacred Geometry)

 

At the temple, 22 Springfield Av Coolum. $45 Bookings essential. 0427 757575

Early bird discount: $120 for three workshops if booked and paid by 25th Sept. 

Ilyhana's Book "The Bud of Compassion" ($30) and Heart Gateway Meditation CD ($8) will be available at the workshops.

Workshop 2. Being Love: Kundalini and Spiritual Emergence Sunday 28th October

Workshop 3. Of Love, Dreaming and Sacred Geometry Sunday 18th November

Please Note: Workshop 2 and 3 of this series will not be going ahead. Please contact Ilyhana if you have any queries.

Morning in Montane Country

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.

 

Type your email address into the box in the right hand sidebar on this page to receive posts direct from this happy little wanderers' blog. Yep, do it now.

 

 

 

 

 





 

 

 



 

 

 





Wildflower Wanderings

We haven't brought maps. We're just going for a wander up the Marcus track to see the spring wildflowers, maybe find our way to the lake, but we're here for the wildflowers.
We say g'day to the bush. It's always polite to knock on the door, send out a friendly greeting.



Marcus track, wallum heath, Noosa National Park. Image: Rosalie Hall 

                               

We're walking a wallum heath track, nicely mown for wildflower walking season, along the edge of the swamp that opens wide to our right, wallum woodland to our left. Everything growing thick and dense, matted together.
The wildflowers hide amongst the chaos and peep out from the borders of the mown track.



Milkmaids (burchardia umbellata). Image: Rosalie Hall

Milkmaids and vanilla lilies sprinkle pink and white through native grasses and reeds, little jewels in the morning sunlight, encrusted with irridescent black beetles.
Do the vanilla lilies really smell like vanilla? With my nose in the dainty bunch of purple pods I find that yes, they're softly vanilla.

Wildflower walking in the wallum is like a treasure hunt. You hunt, you find treasure.

                                                    Epacris heath flowers. Image: Rosalie Hall

Here some purple patersonia, there some white heath bells of epacris dancing along their slender stalks.

                                               Boronia falcifolia.                Image: Rosalie Hall

And what is this? Bright, bright pink, four petals, fine leaves. Definitely boronia.

                                                 Sprengelia.    Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

And here, look! Gorgeous tiny russet gold beetles nosing into the white cups of sprengelia petals. Oh. Gone before we can catch them with the camera.

"Can you hear that?" my walking buddy Rose, has picked up a sound far off in the swamp. What is that?
We're listening.
Whoomp whoomp whoomp whoomp
Thrummming, drumming now.
"Coucal pheasant?" I say, and I can feel my eyes are probably wide like a child.
"Calling for it's mate", replies Rose, big eyes too and we're whispering, though of course it's so far away it can't hear us.
A magic moment.

Eriostemon wax flower?? Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

 



Now there's a different flower, just one little bush. Looks like eriostemon but I'm not sure. One for the books when we get home. Or google.

So little shade on the track and the sun is already biting into our skin. It's much hotter than we expected for so early in the day. Winter has broken open and the cold escaped.
Well, maybe we won't stay out in the sun too long.

                                          Yellow pea flowers??      Image:Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

                                        More yellow pea flowers?? Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

                              Chaffy swamp pea (pultenaea paleacea). Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

 

Colour calls down the track. Pure yellows and burnt oranges of pea flowers, some I can name, some not. The chaffy swamp pea has some of those gorgeous tiny gold beetles.

 

                                          Tiny purple flowers??     Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy 

 

Oh my goodness we're stepping on flowers on the track!

Tiny, so tiny! I've no idea what they are. At first I think they come from the bunches of strappy leaves, then realise that the leaves belong to patersonia. These little darlings pop straight out of the ground with no leaves at all. They fly a tiny purple flag on a fine red stalk.

We see now that they are sprinkled here and there along the bare ground of the vehicle tracks. So small we nearly missed them.

Treasures. Little gems.

 

                                          Villarsia exaltata.                           Image: Rosalie Hall

 

                                               Villarsia exaltata. Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

 

And then atop tall stalks, rising a metre high out of glowing and juicy oval leaves, shimmer the fringes of pure yellow villarsia marsh flowers. A water plant. Rose knows this one. I don't recall seeing it before.... I love discovering plants I don't know.

 

Haaahhh! Big sigh. Such a wonderland. And we are such flowerheads...in our element.

 

So. We've come to the end of the mown track and reached a T intersection and the woodland. It's shady here. We could walk on.

We don't remember which way to go. And like I said, no maps.

Left or right? No signs.

We go left.

We're in dry forest with loose sandy floor. Spirit of the bush is very quiet in here.

 

                                          Tiny bells all over??      Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

 

A waft of soft perfume lifts from bushes snowy with tiny white bells. I don't know this one either. It reminds me of smokebush in the mountains of Victoria, but smokebush has daisy flowers.

 

                                          Ancient banksia, split and fallen.    Image: Rosalie Hall

 

                                         Mini eco-system in ancient banksia. Image: Rosalie Hall

 

There are ancient banksias here, with huge trunks. Some have split right open from the sheer weight carried for decades. One has a whole mini eco-system complete with wildflowers growing in a hollow high-up.

 

A spangled drongo flashes velvet black and metallic blue as it arcs with burrrrinnng wings in and out of the track ahead of us.

 

                                          Trapeze spiderweb.                       Image: Rosalie Hall

 

Amongst the twiggy branches, trapeze spiders have hung their gossamer cones.

 

                                         Rufous fantail                                  Image: Rosalie Hall

 

Rufous fantail is flitting and flirting, ever the walker's companion.

We've come some distance now. Will we keep going?

We might find the lake.

Where's the sun? We're going south. Hmmm.

The lake should be west. Who knows?

 

We stop and rest. Rose has apples. Great.

 

OK just a bit further, see what's round the next corner. We cross a trickling stream of clear tea-brown.

 

                                                                     Image: Ilyhana Kate Kennedy

 

At some mutually decided point of tired legs and no lake, we turn back.

Then from out of nowhere, a guy on a bike comes wheeling past us like something is after him. Did you find the lake? No, he calls back and is gone. Friendly type.

 

No more dawdling, purpose walking now, on the return.

 

Suddenly my radar picks up something to our right, about 15 to 20 metres away. Something.

We're very still, listening. Hmmm.

And then, here it comes. Footsteps on the forest floor, crackling the leaf litter. Coming closer. Coming straight toward us.

Maybe a scrub turkey, I think.

But no, here it comes.

 

                                          Monitor lizard.                                Image: Rosalie Hall

 

A metre of monitor lizard waddles onto the track, sleek and fat-bellied, charcoal grey with yellow spots.

Big enough. Cool.

It's just a few metres in front of us. We're standing still 'cause we want to watch, but please don't mistake us for trees.
Rose lifts the camera. Monitor lizard catches the movement, realises we are not trees, scrabbles madly for the nearest upright that is. Up it goes.
OK. Now for the photo session.

                                                    Monitor lizard.          Image: Rosalie Hall

                                                    Monitor lizard.           Image: Rosalie Hall


We're back in the open swampland on the mown track. There's a cooling breeze. We chat to a couple who emerge from that right hand turn we didn't make, and yes they found the lake.
Oh well, next time.

Rose finds some little red sundews sparkling an invitation to flying edibles. Last shots for the day.

                                         Sundews.                                       Image: Rosalie Hall

A cuppa and cake sounds good now so we motor on down to Baked Poetry Cafe and find a table amid the throng.
Back home we'll google to ID the flowers and Google Earth to find out where we've been. Maybe we'll take a map next time eh! But then if we'd gone right, we wouldn't have seen monitor lizard.

There's a full program of wildflower walks on the Sunshine Coast this week. You do need to book a place as the walks are very popular. Here's a link for info http://www.sunshinecoast.qld.gov.au/sitePage.cfm?code=wildflower

Do you know the names of the flowers in the pics above that we were not able to ID ? Let's know in the comments.
Here's a good site for info http://www.noosanativeplants.com.au/articles/flowering-now/

If you'd like to walk the track that we took in this blog, start at the little park at Hawthorn Grove, Marcus Beach UBD K20 map 19. The track on the UBD map is not correct. However you can see the wildflowers by walking down the mown track that leads off from the park. If you want to go beyond the T intersection, best take a map of the tracks. Wear closed-in shoes, sun protection, take water.

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