Far treats here are the changing interactions of mountain and sky.
After the rain I watch from my dripping verandah as Omo-white clouds boil and steam in and out of the nips and tucks of the densely forested southern slopes. Wisps linger to lick the gullies clean before joining the rising mass above.
Closer to me, the sun makes the leaves of the trees sparkle to show just how clean they are.
Near treats can be unexpected, novel. The remarkable could easily go unremarked in the bush; I have to be really on the lookout for a flash of different texture or colour.
Because this is not a garden, I never know when birds or animals have gifted a new plant to our forest. I can only hope they are native ones!
This vine was swinging from a sapling by the track to my dam. I have driven by here plenty of times yet have never seen this before.
It was suggested it could be a Supplejack, Ripogonum album perhaps.
But I’m not sure if its fruits bunch like this, whereas they seem to in the alternative, Smilax australis. Any thoughts?
2 thoughts on “Far and near”
A perceptive comment Laura; it’s that view which I built my cabin to face– nothing man-made there– and its cloud-catching abilities give me endless variations.
Sharyn, I just love that first picture it seems to be endless.
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