Dear weather and fishing gods #2

Dear weather and fishing gods,

Thankyou for listening to my request and arranging a perfect spring day for us to go fishing up near Marysville. And while it might seem absurd for someone who doesn't particularly like fish or fishing to choose to spend a day involved with said pass-time, it made sense at the time.

We wanted to do our bit for the region after the devastating Black Saturday bushfires nearly 4 years ago, so why not head up there and fish! The town is still doing it pretty tough, although the tourists have returned bringing lots of vibrant colour and joyous laughter! They were certainly making the most of the cafes, spilling out into the streets, chattering and enjoying the food and wine on a perfect spring afternoon.

However, I hadn't expected to be so deeply affected by the devastation. Blackened tree trunks, gaps where atmospheric old buildings used to be, bright sun where there used to be shade, forlorn  flowers in untended remains of gardens where not so long ago there was a home and family.


It's sobering to realise that lots of locals are still in dongas (a small relocatable hut often used near mines for temporary accommodation) nearly four years after the town was obliterated. Rebuilding is painfully slow for all sorts of frustrating and convoluted reasons. 

I can't even begin to imagine the terror of having a firestorm reduce your town and region to ash, and it's something I hope never to experience again, even from the sidelines. Can weather gods prevent horrendous weather events occurring? I suspect not.

I've described the weather conditions during the Black Saturday bushfires here

But back to the fishing!

I caught my first fish ever which took both me and the salmon by complete surprise. Foolish, foolish salmon. 

I know it's kind of cheating to throw a baited hook into a well stocked dam and call it fishing, but I felt a sense of achievement mixed with a good dose of stunned disbelief at my success. I'll refrain from referring to myself as a fisherperson, however, as that'd be stretching the truth a bit.

Slimy, icky salmon.

Here's the salmon that insisted on leaping energetically onto the hook I'd halfheartedly dropped into the dam at the Marysville fish farm. The first one got away - truly! It was big and heavy and flapping so vigorously that it snapped the line as I was reeling it in .... it was this big ..................................................... holds hands way apart in true fisherperson style ;-)

The proprietor gutted the fish, and after the long drive home, where they nestled snugly in the compact car frig, I put them in freezer bags and wrapped them in newspaper as per instructions, before making little nests in the freezer. No doubt they're now solid blocks of raw fish. We caught four between us, 3 trout and 1 salmon. This is going to present a bit of a challenge - what to do with them next?

The photo below is of one of the fishing ponds and the dead and blackened eucalypt trunks. Eucalpyts regrow from little nodules under the bark which are called epicormic shoots. You can see these epicormic shoots sprouting from around the trunks of some of the trees as well as revegetated areas at the fish farm.  

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Dear weather gods #1

Dear weather gods

Could we possibly have a nice warm day soon.

respectfully,

Sue

PS: In case all the energy you're expending on changing our climate has got you confused, I've included a few photos to jog your memory.  We'd like a bit less of this:

Mornington

Mornington Pier

and a bit more of this:

Frankston Pier

Mornington.

Kananook Creek. Frankston

Southbank Brisbane

Southbank - Brisbane

PPS: It'd be awesome if you could prove the hundreds and hundreds of highly qualified scientists wrong about climate change. Things are a bit tense and fraught at times down here. The fossil fuel industry seems to have got our politicians and decision makers by the balls, and it's not doing the rest of us any good. Could you perhaps have a bit of a chat with some of the other relevant gods about that?

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playing with words

Perplexed pre-schoolers wail piteously
a paucity of playground posts peep from the putrid waters
parents pray the council will not prevaricate any longer
"put the playground on higher ground!"
Persistent precipitation portrays the wisdom of parents.

Pugnacious rocks pummelled the previously pretty plain
uprooted plants, eroded placid platypus haunts.
Pummeling precipitation eroded the once playful riverbed

POW

Playground now in the past
more like a pool.

Limbering up for the A-Z April blogging Challenge

Last year for the A-Z Blogging challenge hosted by Arlee Bird (here) I really wanted to do something about climate change. But it was too hard, too complex, and to be honest, too darn depressing. But the idea has been playing on my mind all year, niggling and asking for my attention.

I don't particularly want to spend time reading weighty books and research papers about environmental degradation, pollution, waste, greed, the melting of polar ice and all the things mentioned in the cartoon below. But if I'm going to live according to my core values it's something I need, and choose, to do.

• one of my vital core values is to connect with and spend time in the natural environment. I'd like future generations to have the opportunity to enjoy it as I do. 
• another is to be part of a community, to connect with, and be part of something bigger than my own little space in the world. It'd be great to connect with others doing their bit to make a difference.
• a third core value is to do with education and personal development. I like to extend myself. I enjoy being educated, informing, sharing and trying to explain concepts clearly. 

If I'm going to live comfortably with myself, I need to embrace my values and move in a direction where I act on them, even though it may be difficult. I'll try to ignore the demons of "Nothing's going to change", "I'm setting myself up for disappointment because no-one's interested anyway" and  "Who do you think you are? Getting too big for your boots if you think you can have an effect".

To help me through, I'll apply the principles of ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) and mindfulness meditation and make space for the feelings of anxiety and self-doubt, possibly make friends with my demons and breathe deeply into any discomfort.  (Information on ACT here.)

Rather than leaving the preparation to the last minute like last year, I've been thinking ahead, mulling over how to present the whole depressing schemozzle so it’s not a major turn off.

Pilfered from Burrowers, Books and Balderdash here.

But, first, I needed to drag myself out of the chasm of despair and fear that envelops me when I think about climate change and the destruction of our eco-systems. So I took some time off to relax, be inspired, blow away the cobwebs and re-energise. And it was fun!

 This path is high above the surrounding plain. 
The white rocks that litter the path were once at the bottom of an ancient sea.
Mutawintji NSW

 I wonder if this River Red gum had been graftedby a local aboriginal group years ago to create a specific shape? If you look closely at the top of the photo you can see where it has created another loop and the light is glowing through. Hattah Lakes, Vic.

 Trees have grown along fault lines where water has trickled.
To get a sense of scale, I'm the little splodge on the right looking over the amazing landscape. Mutawintji NSW.

Click here to join the A-Z blogging challenge in 2012 with Arlee Bird and his great band of helpers. 

Thinking about climate change and environmental damage, in the privacy of our own heads, can make us feel insignificant and scared.  It was only when I made veiled comments to others, including my doctor, that conversations opened up and I realised I'm not alone in with the continual sense of fear and doom.

My doctor commented that he is treating more people for depression than ever before, and suspected that isolation and fear about the future may be part of the cause.

You want us to join you?

It'd be great if you join me over at traverselife where I'll be blogging from A-Z in April.  Click on the  ENGAHC button at the top right for more information about my theme.  Perhaps you could 'follow' if the topic is something you can contribute to, or want to learn more about. I'd like you to share your insights, stories and comments.

Australian White Ibis

I always thought they were ugly birds, loud, clumsy. Long beak stabbing into urban grass to extract buggy, tasty morsels;

but sitting by the Brisbane River, enjoying my lunchtime picnic during the Happiness conference, observe with 'mindful' seeing eyes.

Saw instead of gangly awkwardness, a beautiful bird, bright eyed, with delicate plumes and elegant beak, displaced from its natural habitat of swamps and wetlands, suffering from the devastating effects of drought and flood, unable to forage there for insects, and other creepy crawlies. Makes the most of a lazy feed of picnic scraps. Leave their poop

and own this space.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

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Exploding watermelons.

Food for thought:

It’s easy to forget
the weather that caused havoc for farmers across our land; cyclone Yasi, the droughts and floods

Customers concerned with the price of fruit and nit picking about imperfections.

 If we think at all, imagine everything is back to normal for those affected.

ignore the distance our food has travelled

Oranges from California. Durian from Thailand

News of exploding watermelons in China.

Picture from here

If you’re struggling and poor, how tempting to hurry nature along!

Tampering backfires. Crops ruined.

Are our farmers here supported adequately
To enable them to be patient and let crops grow healthily?

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A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.

Photo captures from ABC news.

An infestation of cockatoos

My fitful sleep was in tatters, shredded by the most unholy cacophony, fit to wake the dead. Almost impossible to describe but something akin to a mechanical contraption desperately in need of oil, with metal parts rasping cruelly against each other. Shrill, discordant, unpleasant, intrusive.

Startled fully awake, I lay trying to comprehend, to make sense of this weird, unfamiliar HORRIBLE noise. 

Not coming from a close-by road, but overhead. Perplexed and fully attentive now, I was aware of it travelling from farmland some distance off. Louder and louder. Dreadful ... what on earth? Birds? There must be hundreds, but what are they? Not anything usual for these parts. Eventually they passed overhead and wheeled off into the distance - come morning I forgot their very existence.

Until

North side of the house

Snowy white feathers, cute as a button close up, entertaining, amusing, inquisitive, swinging from strands of bark and twiglets barely able to hold their weight...

but not so delightful in these numbers

West side of the house

quarrelsome

noisy

voracious feeders

(in what is left of the lopped tree)

South side of the house

ravenous

East side of the house

Many farmers and graziers despise cockatoos due to their extremely destructive nature. Even in suburbia they've been known to strip timber from houses, shred insulation boxes and create havoc.

So when they were frightened off by a passing truck I was rather pleased

Debris from their visit

I wonder if their appearance in such large numbers has anything to do with the locust plague earlier in the year followed by the floods? Perhaps they've found their way south foraging for food? It's easy to forget that the repercussions from natural disasters affect birds and animals too and this could be just one of many events playing out across the country.

Ah ha! Technically speaking this is a Little Corella or Cacatua sanguinea (I wonder if that's from sanguine, meaning cheerful or hopeful or for the ruddy complexion?)


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S. Shilly-shally

Safeguard our planet.

It’s silly to *shilly-shally around. We need to salvage the situation swiftly and not saunter into the future as if everything is secure. The scientists have solved many sizzling problems in the past and got us out of some supremely stupid situations, but we shouldn’t be slack or serenely indifferent. That’d be slovenly.

I spoke with a saffron robed sheila who said she had specialised superpowers and could streamline the supply of oil and water to see us out - even when we’ve stripped the silver lining from the shale shelves in Siberia.

Should I call her “saviour”?

East Side Gallery. Berlin 2009.

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* to be indecisive and get distracted by unimportant things.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.
I'll revisit S when the month is over with a Drabble for a Super friend.

Here tomorrow: Tense

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.

How to make a hyperlink signature here
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R. Reliable x 2

The reliable *rancher rearranged the rotation of the crops to reduce stress and strain on the soil used for raising seedlings.

Market Garden, near Springvale Vic. Due to be subdivided for housing.

Ruby wanted to radically reduce the residue from poisoned run-off, which was going into the rancid rivers.

Rainfall had been increasingly random which was leading to unreliable reserves. It was realised that reservoirs needed to be re-engineered and that the focus needed to be on realigning responsibilities to reflect the change.

Soil needed to be rehabilitated and reserves of groundwater stabilised. There needs to be responsible re-organisation of resources, to reduce risking the revulsion and wrath of future generations.

Erosion as a result of poor land management.

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*the words Market Gardener simply didn't work.

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And now a Drabble for a fellow blogger who gives huge amounts of time and shares his expertise very generously on the Blogger forum as well as in his blog the Report. Introducing Roberto.....
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Roberto’s Report – It’s reliable!

Have you ever had the experience of ranting and railing after wracking your brain, and everything is still wrong. You feel like a wraith from your recurrent dreams of wrong-doings. You repeated the directions, but nothing’s going right. It’s ridiculous! You’re in a rage ‘cos your blog simply isn’t rocking.

Repeated requests to your usually ritzy sources are greeted with ribald laughter and rollicking derision.

Contact reliable Roberto!

His “Report” is a ripper! He’s respectful, rational, and reasonable; you’ll soon be able to relax, recline and rejoice after having your problems solved, no matter how random.
*

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Shilly-shally

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.

P. Penguins

Pete had been a particularly paunchy penguin. He’d lived in perfect waters long ago when polar bears played, and plankton and pilchards were popular. He’d partaken of these around the Peregrine Peninsula before the polar ice caps were plundered for plentiful fossil fuels.

Back then the waters had been more pristine than putrid, pretty not poxy.

How did it happen that we’ve pandered to powerful, parsimonious politicians and their pals who’ve pilfered and pillaged pretty much everything of importance that had been plentiful? They’ve plummeted us into purgatory.

A pox on people who prevented restraint and poured scorn on peace.

***

My husband took this phone photo of a Fairy Penguin* rounding up fish next to the Mornington jetty, Victoria. They're rarely seen here, and provided school holiday entertainment for a couple of evenings last week. At the top of the photo you can just see the float from a fishing line, and the curve of the line coming up to the fisherman on the jetty. The greyish line at the bottom of the photo is the jetty - you can see how close he is, only a metre or so away! I hope he didn't disappear because he mistook the bait for safe fish.

Phone photos: I. Travers.

Additional info on Fairy Penguins: they look ever so cute, but get really, really cranky when they're covered in oil, are rescued and need to be cleaned off. They're amazingly strong and muscly for a small creature, and have dangerously sharp claws. Definitely better for them to be in clean water, and not need to be rescued!     Please take note all cost cutting and careless owners of leaking oil tankers...grrr.

*For some reason the powers that be have renamed them Little Penguins (boring name IMHO). To me they'll always be Fairy Penguins.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Quinces
Here for how to make a hyperlink signature.

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.

M. Marvellous ideas

Many marvellous ideas are met with moans and mirth when they are first mooted. The first person who mentioned merging coal fired power stations with more mindful measures was called a moron. “He’s mad they muttered”, none too mildly.

It was as if he was trying to mastermind a massive takeover of the modern world. There was manouvering and manipulation and all kinds of muddles.

But I suspect that we need to mobilise mankind and get some momentum to make amends after many years of slovenly management if we are to make our way out of this mire and mess.

East Side Gallery. Berlin 2009.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Nincompoop & napalm

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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H. Horrible feelings & Hearing

Have you ever had that horrible feeling that you’ve been hypnotized into hiding from hearing about the ill-health of our home, planet Earth? Many humble people talk about healing her with kind humour, but hard headed businessmen hush them haughtily and harass them, saying the ideas are either too hard, or harrumph with a: “Ho Hum, what would you know?”

Humble Holiness - The Dalai Lama

Some creatures including Polar Bears are past their heyday and disappearing without much hoopla. I wonder if there’s a hidden agenda too hideous to contemplate. If so, I’ll find it hard to avoid a hurried swig from my hip flask.

Now one for the children with learning difficulties.

Sometimes kids can’t hear properly and get hell at school because they mistake Health for History. The teacher hollers: “How come you’re so hopeless?”

The child hides; hollering hurts their ears, it doesn’t help. Have them checked for *APD, which could make a helluva lot of difference in how they handle tasks. They might not even hate having to go to school. Hip, hip hooray!

Don’t be hijacked by those who say: “It’s ok, he’ll grow out of it, he just needs to choose to listen better”. The little tyke needs help, hugs and high fives, not harassing and hounding.

* Audtiory Processing Disorder.

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A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Inspiring


How to make a hyperlink signature here

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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G. Geographers.

Geographers aren’t generally known to be gaudy or garrulous but by gosh they’re great!

They gather grit and gassy substances in glass gauges and greet it with gargantuan gasps of “Golly gosh! This is gripping!” And they’re not worried about germs either.

One said to me once “Gee whiz you old geezer, get a gander at this!”...  I didn’t react very graciously.

Sometimes they gambol around goldfields wearing galoshes. Some are known for their genius in sharing their general knowledge about Global Information Systems to gather support and garner protection for our glorious geology. They’re generous like that!

Go geographers!

A drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Horrible feelings & Hearing


How to make a hyperlink signature here


Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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F: Fretful. A-Z challenge

I’m fretful that the Federal Government is telling fibs about the facts of Climate Change. They seem to have fabricated figures ferociously to fool us into filtering out any fears we may have felt. I think we’ll need more than feng-shui to ensure we don’t fall into a fiasco from which it will be hard to find our way out. I’m convinced they’re trying to flummox us with fictions. I get furious when they call us foolish for finding reason not to fawn at the altar of fickle consumerism.

Our fabulous environment should be fecund, not foetid. Fie on them!

Sludge remaining after flooding. A breeding ground for mosquitoes.

Some information on mosquitoes here and here.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Tomorrow: G for Geographers.

Over at traverselife I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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D. Distinguished scientists. A-Z challenge.

A number of distinguished scientists drowned us in data describing the devastation that could dampen our spirits due to our voracious determination to drill for oil continuously and use all the dark coal completely 'till it disappears forever.

The dastardly shock jocks delved deviously to detect a difference of opinion, then jeered delightedly and defamed the dear scientists calling them deranged, deluded and dreary. They were determined to make a dramatic beat up and tried to discredit the danger. Oh dear; the uneducated dumping on the deeply knowledgeable. I felt deflated when the politicians were also deaf to Earth’s degeneration.

We might need all the help we can get

***
A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Environment & Ethics

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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C: Climate & Children. A-Z challenge.

The conversation about climate seems to have changed into a general acceptance that mankind hasn’t helped, and may even have created a fair bit of the coming crappiness. The cycle of change is there of course, but too many organizations want to capitalize by creating quick profits and use the catchcry of "constant growth" rather than calling for restraint for all our communities.

It’s challenging to convey the complex ideas clearly, but surely no one wants a cataclysm or catastrophe?

Couldn’t we curtail our ceaseless consumption so we don’t end up down the creek without a canoe or a paddle?

Down the creek without a paddle - or a canoe.

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Children with learning difficulties are often chided by usually caring teachers for being careless with their ABC’s. Sometimes the teachers use contemptuous words like “CRAP!” The kiddies cringe; they’re trying as carefully as they can – they can’t do more.

Often, so painfully often, they cry themselves to sleep and dread the constant cry of “FAILURE”. Many seek counselling as adults even though they have proven themselves to be creative and courageous. The constant misunderstanding and contemptuous criticism felt catastrophic - simply too cruel. Unfortunately some get caught in a life of crime because the mainstream community has shunned them so consistently.

Some people with learning difficulties feel
like they just don't belong.

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A drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Here tomorrow Distinguished scientists.

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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