Up to the Hinterland

Just over an hour's drive from here, up into the Blackall Ranges, is a growing hinterland town called Maleny.  This bustling, eclectic village, set amid a countryside of rolling green hills and spectacular views of a not-too-distant coastline, is a beautiful place to spend time away from the city. We visited recently, on a very cold Wintery day, to see a dear friend. Rather than venture into the busy town, we spent the day breathing in the blues and the greens around the local lake.

Across Lake Baroon to the sky above.

On our drive down to the lake, formed by the Baroon Pocket Dam, we passed lush paddocks, edged with fencing and dotted with old and beautiful trees that cast deep shade underneath. Cows and horses grazed on abundant grass against the backdrop of wide blue sky. 

An old and shady tree.

We stopped at the Platypus Viewing Platform, along the Obi Obi Creek, and waited quietly for the telltale ripples of the shy platypuses that make their homes along the creek's banks. Our glimpse of these unusual creatures was fleeting, and gone too soon for photos, but there are images over on National Park Odyssey's blog, of this elusive Australian animal in this local creek, if you'd like to spot one too.

A horse in one of Maleny's paddocks.

After the morning outdoors, rugged up against the Hinterland's cold, somewhere warm was most welcome. Out on the deck of Secrets Cafe, located in a stunning timber building on the edge of the rainforest, we enjoyed a delicious lunch that came complete with a beautiful view through the trees and across the water of the lake.

The inviting Secrets on the Lake at Maleny. 

A window box planted with geraniums.

A bright yellow orchid growing on rocks outside the restaurant.

Artworks, like this bright red waterlily piece, in the gallery.

After a lunch that included a souffle made with local cheeses, salad and a lemon myrtle creme brulee sprinkled with macadamia nuts, we walked along a well-used track around more of the lake although I could easily have curled up beside the warm fire and read all afternoon! 

The warm and welcoming fire.

My delicious dessert.

It was quiet along the path we walked, that for a time hugged the edge of the lake before winding its way back to its beginning. We passed tall trees, a few with possum boxes up high, and were accompanied by bird song, including that of the distinctive whip bird, along the way.

A possum box up high in a tree.

A view across the lake.

The afternoon was casting long shadows as we made our way home from the hinterland. We could have spent this day, strolling the streets of Maleny's town centre, but I am glad that we soaked up the blues and the greens of nature on its outskirts instead. 

Meg

Our Little Local Creek

Just down the hill and around the corner, begins a path that walks you along our little local creek. It meanders all the way to the sea! When times are very dry, as they were back over the Winter months, our little section of this waterway is just a rocky creek bed. But, when we have lots of rain, as we have this past week, it soon starts flowing again. During breaks in the rain, or sometimes while it's pouring, we go down to the creek to see how far the water has come up and how fast it's flowing. 

Over the past few years, our little creek area has been rehabilitated. Invasive weed species have been suppressed and more native trees, grasses and reeds planted en masse. I love to see the cycles of growth and blossoming and setting seed that we observe in the plants that grow along the creek. As we walk this path almost every day, there is always something beautiful and botanical that catches my eye.

I love watching the rejuvenation that the rain brings; the increased flow of water in the creek bed, the green that returns so quickly to the landscape, the blossoming of native flora and the abundance of birds and other wild creatures that call our creek their home. Nature seems to rejoice, as much as we do, when plentiful rain falls.

Meg

A Little Serenity

It has been many, many weeks since I walked in this beautiful, serene place. What a joy it was to set foot on the sand again. Step after sandy step, breath after cool breath, beside wave after gentle wave coming in and retreating again. 

A favourite place to walk.

As I walked, the welcome and familiar sound of the sea was beside me. The crash of waves coming in to the beach and that gentle fizz of foam as they retreat is the soundtrack I love to listen to on these walks. No earphones for me! I want to hear nature's "backing track" as I walk, I want to hear and say, "Good morning!" to those I pass and to the fishing folk who try their luck off the beach.

I saw much but I didn't photograph any of it. I didn't want to stop, to break that steady, familiar rhythm that I had settled into. I watched dolphins play offshore, their silvery grey bodies sleek and shiny in the sea. A lone Brahminy Kite soared overhead, her shadow on the sand alerted me to her presence above. Lots of little shells and a few pieces of sea glass were scattered the length of one quiet bay. Playful dogs, barking their happiness and chasing one another across the beach, reminded me just what it means to be carefree and totally absorbed in where one is and what one is doing.

I sometimes bring much that feels heavy to these shores and, at those times, I leave feeling lighter and grateful for the space and time to walk here. This beautiful place offers up to me a little serenity. I thought I would share it with you.

Meg

A Peek Into Permaculture: Principles

Throughout the day yesterday, the wind swirled and howled outside and torrential rain, from the lingering "remnants" of a tropical cyclone that crossed the coastline much further north, drummed heavily and loudly on the roof. Our region had a month's rain in just one day!

Pouring, drenching rain falling from the heavens.

During this unusual rain event, as I watched gutters and drains overflowing with precious water, I have been thinking about what happens to all the "liquid gold"  that falls on our property.

Water lost as it flows downhill into gutters and drains.

(Our house is at the top of this little street.)

In the Introductory Permaculture Course I recently attended, taught by the enthusiastic and inspiring Morag Gamble, who writes over at Our Permaculture Life, we were introduced to David Holmgren's twelve design principles. One of those principles encourages you to think about how to catch, harness and store energy; energy that is embodied in things such as sunlight, wind, seeds, food and water.

Water gushing from one of our neighbourhood's storm water drains.

A lot of rain fell in our area, over our land, yesterday. Looking out my misty windows to the street, venturing out to the soggy backyard and beyond under umbrella cover, there was much that I observed. While some of that rainwater poured off our roof and into our tanks, there was much that pooled in the circular "impression" where our old trampoline used to be, that trickled along the edge of the veggie patch like a little mini waterfall,  that flowed in under the house where it will no doubt be very muddy for a while, and that was lost as it gushed downhill into our street's gutters and drains. 

Yesterday's rain turned a dry brook into a swift stream.

The challenge as I understand it, remembering that I am just beginning to develop my understanding of Permaculture, is to find ways to capture more of the different energies that fall upon or move across/through your land. For example, when the sun is shining, we have solar panels to capture the sun's energy though the cost of batteries prevents us (at the moment) from storing that to use at night or in times of heavy cloud. We have a worm farm and compost bins that capture the energy stored in our food scraps and convert it into a form we can use in the garden. Our large sash windows, glass sliding doors and french doors help to harness the breezes we get here and bring them inside. In terms of the precious water that rain brings, we have one large tank under our house and another much smaller one under our back verandah. Water that doesn't fall on our roof and into our tanks, flows downhill as our land slopes sharply at the front and gently at the back. Some of that water soaks into our soil but a lot is lost in run-off. So I need to think about how to:

          *  slow that water down to give it more time to soak into our soil;
          *  use areas where the water naturally pools on our block of land;
          *  direct water into drier areas;
          *  direct water away to stop it flowing under our house.

One of the many large mushrooms popping up in moist soil.

I like the way in which the different Permaculture principles provide a framework for me to think about things and they way they throw up questions about how to build sustainability practically into our life here. I think they are applicable as much to my little suburban home as they are to the largest property. I think I'll sit with each one for a while, ponder them, learn more  and then see to what decisions they lead.

Meg

p.s. If you experienced the wild weather over the past few days, here in Queensland or Northern NSW, I hope that you are safe and dry this morning. My best wishes and thoughts to all those whom Cyclone Debbie impacted this week.  Xxx