At the end of another winter, thoughts turn to warmer days, sunshine and walks along the beach. Just a 10 minute drive from us is the peaceful Johnson’s Beach at Penguin. Apparently, it is named after a certain Mr. Johnson who lived at the end of Clerke Street near the beach but he remains a mystery.
A stroll along the shore reveals art installations with a difference, courtesy of the artist in residence, Mother Nature. Magnificent rocks of all shapes and sizes are coloured with myriad earthy hues.
Subtle brush strokes and feathering etch the sand, following the retreating tide.
Smooth vanilla mounds are drizzled with raspberry coulis
and diamonds sparkle on a watercolour background.
Elegant accessories have been discarded flippantly, awaiting a seat at the next salty soiree .
Returning to reality…. Spring isn’t far away and a drive to Penguin for a meander along Johnson’s Beach followed by a leisurely lunch is high on the agenda.
When we first viewed our property (fifteen years ago), we were impressed with the pond and the rather large goldfish inhabitants. Michael landscaped the area with rocks and plants and created a smaller top pond, adding a cascade for completion. It is a lovely, peaceful setting to gaze upon from the kitchen window
but Michael has lamented the ever present algae due, in part, to the lack of water depth and more recently the obvious presence of a leak in the liner.
Deciding on a pre-formed pond rather than replacing the liner, we set about the project we had been procrastinating on for months. The first job was to create easy access by relocating the pot pond and trimming plants.
The pond plants and surrounding rocks were removed to expose the liner
before I donned the appropriate outfit to bucket out the water which Michael diligently distributed around the garden (we were having a very dry summer).
We pulled the old liner out (which did, indeed, have an obvious split)
and tried the new pond for size.
Hoping to not encounter tree roots, the digging commenced.
With periodic fittings, and no underground impediments, the site was ready.
With a trailer load of sand on standby, the base was prepared
and the pond lined with plastic to protect it from the river stones.
Once levelled,
the task of packing the sand around the outside began. Between us, we came up with an ingenious plan to convey the sand into the tight spaces – a funnel made from a chook feed bag and a ring of builders strapping.
It worked brilliantly.
We had been advised to pack some sand, then fill some water and repeat in stages to avoid distortion of the pond shell.
The river stones from the old pond had been saved and I spent some time sorting them
while Michael repotted the plants.
The fish were returned to their new home, along with the plants
My first visit to Fossil Bluff at Wynyard in 2009 was a little disappointing. The tide was in and, although the sandstone cliff was spectacular and scenery stunning, I didn’t see any evidence of fossils.
More recently, we arrived at low tide to find the expansive beach of Freestone Cove with Fossil Bluff looming to the east
and Table Cape to the west.
We wandered among rocks, weathered and worn smooth by the incessant ebb and flow of the tide.
Fossil Bluff was created 275 million years ago by a tidewater glacier. The 25 metre sandstone cliffs are strewn with fossils, including the remains of the oldest marsupial found in Australia named Wynyardia bassiana in honour of the town.
The grey rock at the base of the cliff is Wynyard Tillite, deposited by the glacier between 303 and 293 million years ago while Australia was part of the super continent called Gondwana. Fossil Bluff sits on top of the tillite and it is clear to see where the sandstone and tillite meet.
It wasn’t long before I spied a plethora of trilobites emerging from rock. One of the earliest known groups of arthropods, trilobites became extinct about 252 million years ago after existing in oceans for 270 million years.
Myriad shells of varying shapes and sizes decorate every surface
along with ancient ancestors of the turritella sea snails.
Nature’s artwork surrounded us,
and with a little imagination, an ossified whale and porpoise.
A lone slab of tessellated rock seemed out of place among its gnarly neighbours.
I was wondering why my niece was so interested in photographing this particular rock formation
until she showed me what she had captured. I stole her idea.
The Tasmanian Devil may not fit the ideal impression of cute and cuddly but I think they have a certain appeal. A recent visit to Wings Wildlife Park confirmed my notion and, watching them lazing in the sunshine, I would go as far as saying they are adorable.
The glossy dark fur is marked with a characteristic white stripe across the chest and sometimes across the rump.
The largest carnivorous marsupials in the world, the devils powerful jaws and teeth enable them to devour every scrap of their food, including bones and fur.
The Devil Facial Tumour Disease, first recorded in 1996, decimated the devil population and a large network of captive breeding programmes was established in the early 2000s. The contagious cancers were transmitted through biting during the fierce competition for food. Facial scarring is not unusual from the frenzied activity.
Peace was about to be shattered
as a meerkat impersonator spotted the arrival of lunch.
There is nothing quite like a succulent wallaby leg to elicit the grunts and growls that have earned the Tasmanian Devils their reputation for being aggressive.
They seemed to understand the concept of sharing for a while
before breaking a large enough morsel to enjoy in private.
Early last year we had a few large trees removed and the timber was left in piles for us to turn into firewood. We finally got around to dealing with it this summer with many hours of chainsawing, splitting and stacking (not to mention swearing). Realising there were a further two trees that needed felling, we came up with yet another project to use the enormous pile of mulch that would ensue. The row of trees along the south-eastern boundary of the garden has always been difficult to traverse with the ride-on mower. We mapped out the area to mulch and laid 3-metre pine posts for the edging.
Procuring huge cardboard boxes from the dumpsters at local electrical stores, we laid them flat to repel the weeds. The remaining mulch from last year’s felling was used up first
before more cardboard and a hefty layer from the new pile.
We interspersed our weekend activities with more cutting
and splitting
to clear the way for the new border. The Tree Doctor returned to decimate the final specimen
and we returned to mulching the new border with great fervour.
Alas, the piles of timber waiting for splitting seemed to be never ending
and with one monster left,
a massive effort saw the completion of our odyssey.
It is very rewarding to see the firewood stacked in preparation for coming winters.
A feature has been made of the remaining stump of the once majestic blackwood tree
and the old plough has a new position front and centre.
cannonhillchronicles 