The Carlo Sand Blow at Rainbow Beach

As the view of the Carlo Sandblow opens up, at the end of the forest track that takes you up there, the sheer size of it takes your breath away.  A vast expanse of golden sand covers the landscape in every direction; a 15hectare sandy "moonscape" whose colours change along with daytime's light.

It's impossible to capture the enormity of the sandblow in one single photograph. Instead, your eyes travel along and across and down; taking in the length and breadth and depth of an incredible natural phenomenon:

From out on the sandblow, formed over thousands of years by strong on-shore winds blowing grains of sand up and inland (My mind boggles at just how many tiny individual grains of sand there would be!), the views are stunning:

We visited in the late afternoon, when the day's warmth and light were fading, and stayed for the setting of the sun. 

Our legs were weary indeed after exploring the sandblow; walking, running, jumping and climbing its expanse of fine, deep sand left us with the contented tiredness that days out in nature, at a place like this, send you home with.

Meg

The Cliffs at Rainbow Beach

There's a spectacular place, about a three hour drive from here, where stunning cliffs of rainbow-coloured sands tower over the shore. Of course, it's called Rainbow Beach, after the more than 70 different coloured sands that make these cliffs, and this place, so very unique.

     A distant view of the cliffs at Rainbow Beach. 

     A closer look!

     A rainbow of colours  in the ancient sands.

Nature's earthy hues.

We are not long home from spending a few days exploring this part of the world. It's been more than twenty years since we were last there and, for our boy, this was his first visit. He found the array of colours in the crumbly sands captivating. Yellow, orange, red, brown, black and white and a myriad of ochre-coloured hues in between. 

Deep ochre colours in the rocks.

Ripples of colour represent the passage of time.

The cliffs are rich, not only in colour, but in indigenous and geological history too. While geology explains cliffs shaped and sculpted continually over time by wind and rain, and of sands stained by iron-rich minerals over thousands of years, the indigenous people of the area tell the ancient story of a spirit rainbow who, during a battle over love for a woman, shattered into shards of colour over the cliffs. Either and both ways, they are fascinating and beautiful.

Our days away at Rainbow Beach were filled with sands, from the earthy hues of these cliffs to the magnificent Carlo Sand Blow which I'll show you later in the week. It's an awe-inspiring place too!

Meg

p.s.  I found information on the geological and indigenous history of Rainbow Beach cliffs on the websites at the following links:

The Coloured Sands Beach Walk  (Queensland Government, 2017-2020)

Rainbow Beach Coloured Sands (Fraser Tours, n.d.)

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

Some Sweetness & Some Light

Little things, delicious things, thoughtful things and wonderful things that have brought some sweetness and some light to life this week. It began with rainbows...

A magical double rainbow.

Not one but two beautiful rainbows arching over a lush green paddock. Just one rainbow is a wondrous thing so two made me feel ever so fortunate to be standing in this particular spot on this particular morning. 

Pink icing & sugary flowers on Mothers' Day.

A little vanilla cake, simple and sweet, for a Mothers' Day afternoon tea. It was purchased from a little local bakery that we want to support in our community. A slice served with vanilla ice-cream, fresh raspberries and one of those little marzipan hearts was such an special treat!

An old toffee tin that arrived in the post.

I 💗vintage tins! This one is an old toffee tin. Holding seeds for me and foreign coins for my collecting boy, it arrived in the post during the week. Such a sweet gift from a very dear friend. (It seems that Molly Bushell, featured in the logo on the front of the tin, began making toffees in 1753!)

 A cluster of tiny yarrow flowers.

Feathery green leaves and tiny white flowers with mustard-y yellow centres. Yarrow is such a pretty plant. It's just coming into bloom in my garden now. The bees and I are ever so happy!

Homemade chocolate chip slice.

An afternoon tea slice homemade with simple ingredients. A newly discovered recipe that's quick and easy to bake and that is equally as good with a glass of icy cold milk as it is with a hot chocolate. (I'll post the recipe soon.)

A little green frog atop a rock in my birdbath.

Seeing my week included both rainbows and a little green frog, a gift from my boy on Mothers' Day, there is one more lovely thing to share with all of you. Here is the very unique sound of that ever-so-famous Muppet, Kermit-the-Frog, and his song, Rainbow Connection. I hope it brings you a smile. 🌈

Meg

So Many Butterflies

Flitting through the air around our garden and neighbourhood have been ever so many more butterflies.  These delicate insects are, as always, ever so hard to photograph with their fluttering wings and dizzying flight paths but, every so often, when they alight upon a favourite plant, they stay still just long enough to capture something of their beauty.

A beautiful Blue Tiger Butterfly.

Dozens of Blue Tiger Butterflies, with wings that remind me of stained glass cut-outs, are gathering around one heavenly-scented blossoming tree in the park. 

The female Common Eggfly on a mandarin leaf.

The Common Eggfly and the Orchard Swallowtail are favouring the lone mandarin in our garden. I spot them from our kitchen window as they weave in and out of the glossy green mandarin leaves.

The closed wings of the Common Crow butterfly.

In the warmth of the morning,  Common Crow butterflies flit and flutter around our star jasmine. We often see these butterflies in our garden.

The bright blue wings of a Blue Triangle Butterfly

Flashes of the most exquisite bright blue signal the flight of the  Blue Triangle Butterfly. They seem to like the salvias in our garden. Even when these butterflies are feeding, their wings constantly vibrate so they are rarely still.

A little butterfly bag.

These butterflies, and others of their fluttering kind, bring such a sense of delight and wonder at just how beautiful and perfect nature can be. I even discovered a butterfly, stitched in purples, on a piece of vintage linen. So many butterflies!

Meg

Such beautiful paintings

Many years ago now, I saw a painting, in a little city gallery, by an artist I'd never heard of before. In the most beautifully dappled colours, he had captured the changing light from tall tree shade to reflections by water's edge and the explorations of meandering children along the bank. It reminded me of long and free Summer days spent in waterholes and by creek beds in the place where I grew up. I couldn't afford to buy that painting, even though I so very much wanted to, but I've never forgotten the beauty of it and the memory and feeling it left me with. The artist was Dale Marsh and I have been enthralled by his paintings ever since.

Dale Marsh's beautifully dappled colours.

(Detail from The Overgrown Garden, 1985.)

I didn't know it then, but it is his work that features on the giant mural that welcomes you to Bribie Island. Children running, full of joy, down a sand dune greet you as you drive off the bridge and onto the island. Dale Marsh loves this island, referring to it as the "cradle to my soul and the inspiration of my life". He is now 80years old and still painting this place that means so much to him. 

Bribie Island's welcoming mural.

(Image credit:  The Bribie Islander)

A deep love of place.

(Dale Marsh, 2019)

So it was to Bribie, for which Dale Marsh feels such affection, that I drove last Sunday to see Catching the Light, an exhibition of his work at the island's little seaside museum. Paintings inspired by and of the island adorned the walls of a light-filled gallery that looks out upon a view of the sea. Older paintings and more recent paintings and all so very beautiful.

Catching the Light Exhibition Booklet. 

In the quiet gallery, I spent much time with each and every painting. Looking up close at the brushstrokes and dabs of colour, layers of them, and then from distance to see the painting in its wholeness and wonder. 

 Detail from Morning Ramble at Red Beach

(Dale Marsh, 2016)

Detail from Reflections on a Posy. 

(Dale Marsh, 2014)

I think a deep connection to place, like that which Dale Marsh feels for Bribie Island and which inspires his incredible paintings still, is important for all of us; a love so profound that it gives us a home to drop anchor in and a safe harbour to come back to. Perhaps, that is what I felt when I saw that painting all those years ago now. I recognised "home" reflected in its dappled colours and in its light.

Meg

  

Singing for the Rain

Glorious soaking rain has fallen steadily here for days and days. Our rain gauge and tanks are full to overflowing. The garden is lush and green and the grass is growing rather enthusiastically.  There's loads of catch-up washing strung up everywhere there's room for a rack or a line now the sun is peeking out again. Our gumboots and old shoes are splattered with mud from squelching about in the garden and our trusty umbrellas are still by the front door ready for the week's forecast showers. One little character, with no umbrella of its own, has found itself a spot of shelter up on our back verandah. From its perch upon the railing, it's been singing to its heart's content.

A cute little butcher bird. 

Offering up a tune.

With it's fluffed-up feathers, still the lighter brown of a juvenile, it is rather cute and not the least bit shy about its singing. It's visited many a day recently to offer up a serenade or two. Before its more melodious performances, I had seen and heard it squawking loudly for its parent birds to find and feed it tasty morsels. Perhaps it's now singing for us in the hope we'll take over feeding duties or maybe it too is just very happy with all the rain.

Meg

A Country Ablaze

Just days into this new year and our country is ablaze. The beautiful bushlands of Australia are tinder dry and going up in flames on a scale that is just unfathomable. Each day brings news of more land burned to a blackened crisp, skies shrouded in smoke, lives lost, people missing and thousands displaced, whole townships and many hundreds of homes destroyed, livelihoods gone and animals perishing and suffering.  Each day brings news of more to come. 

Map image from Digital Earth Australia Hotspots

(Source:  Geoscience Australia https://hotspots.dea.ga.gov.au/)

Bushfires have been raging in areas along our Eastern Seaboard for months and there is still so much of this very hot and very dry Summer to go. On the map above, the larger the dot, the higher the probability that the hotspot detected by satellite represents fire. It's a very sobering image and even more so given that so much of our population lives along the Eastern Seaboard. 

Today, very dangerous bushfire conditions, with soaring temperatures and strong winds, are forecast in the states of New South Wales and Victoria and in the Australian Capital Territory. I just hope, come the end of this day and into tomorrow, that no more lives will be lost.  If you live in one of the warning areas, I hope you are somewhere else and safe. Xx

Our iconic Aussie kookaburra in a bushfire-blackened landscape.

(Photo credit:  Adam Stevenson.)

After these fire emergencies are over; after the weather cools and the rains (hopefully) come and green shoots appear among the cinders, there will be many lives and many, many towns and properties to rebuild. That won't happen in a day, a week or a month but over many months and across years. The scale of recovery is unfathomable too.

May warm and caring arms continue to closely hold those impacted by bushfire. May we all give what we can, if we can. (ABC News Bushfire Relief:  How You Can Help link) May those who have lost everything be supported in finding a way to begin again.

Meg