The shadow of Heysen looms large here; this is the view of the Range he chose to paint as the Three Sisters, and to this point he would apparently come for a sunset beer. It is much greener today than it must usually be, but the green veil is not grass.
There is a walk that roughly follows the trail between Hayward’s shepherds’ huts, using both the dry Aroona and Yuluna creeks. The views to the range over the ever-present pines are stunning.
Zooming in, I can see large holes that might be caves and I wonder who or what has used them.
These Northern White Cypress pines grow everywhere, and at the base of most is a Fragrant Saltbush; seems like a beneficial arrangement; birds like the red berries of the saltbush and sit in the tree to eat them, plus the tree would catch some shade and water.
On the flats I see more emus, flighty as usual (that’s a pun; I know they can’t fly). I now know that the very runny splats I saw at Bunyeroo are actually emu scats, as they are here too. Emus poop as they walk, which is why their scats are often on tracks.
I have seen a few of these small trees, and I think they are Eremophilas, Emu bushes, but what sort ?
I miss my experts… and I don’t mean Dr Google. ‘Eremophila’ means ‘desert-loving’, and are usually found where emus are too; apparently emus like to eat the fruit.
The galahs and cockatoos love the woody female fruit of the pines, and although these trees don’t have flowers, when the tips of the male cones at the end of the leaves trees glow golden, ready to release their pollen, you’d think they did.
But boffins, what are these shy little plants, I want to ask?
What is the ground cover that has created these fluffy seed? Eruptions in one isolated patch?
And why are the rocks on only the one slope coloured almost blue with lichen, be they in sun or shade?
Like with the River red gums, I am now addicted to taking photos of this range each time I see it from a different spot… I promise not to share them all.
On my return from the walk I found my overnight neighbours had left, which was a relief. I had thought it admirable that the father had brought three small children camping, aged maybe 4 to 7, but I hadn’t realised he had also brought a motorbike.
This morning he started it up and gave each of the kids in turn a full-on road ride sitting in front of him. Nobody was wearing helmets…
I winced at the danger to the kids, and the loud roar of the machine (I hate the things), but I held my tongue.
I wondered what their mother would say about this, if she knew.
And last question: why are there so many bush flies here? It’s impossible to walk without a fly veil or you need a spare hand for constant flyshooing…
Indeed. But you’d be running, not walking, David!
All wonderful! – be interesting to meet the person who can answer all your questions! As you know I’d never notice half these things if I was there alone.