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Let’s keep going with the photos. Here is more of Venman Park and what I saw there.

I don’t know what species these pale pinkish trunks belong to. Perhaps a box species. Many Australian trees lose all or most of their bark, though they don’t lose their leaves seasonally so where I live there is no obvious Autumn. Winter is usually not very cold either.

This shows the incredible resilience of eucalypts. It’s a tree that has fallen over and resurrected itself from a branch that short straight upwards.

I love the gracefully arching stems of this grass with it’s dark brown seed heads.

Many gum trees (eucalypts), when much of the bark has fallen and fragments remain, remind me of abstract paintings. I’m not the first photographer to love making images of patterns in their bark.

Fallen leaves can be beautiful no matter where you go in the world. Here is some eucalypt leaf litter.

A stalwart tree.

And a new eucalypt rising.

Last week I went to a special place in the Brisbane Metropolitan area. It is called Venman National Park and is an area rich in wildlife that was owned, preserved and then donated to the local Council by a man called John Venman in 1976 and now it is a declared National Park. I’ve only begun to explore it but I’ll post some photos here. The Red-necked Wallabies were really tame and seemed curious about me rather than frightened. As with the birds by my back door I just approached slowly, keeping my mind calm and peaceful, sending safe thoughts to them and quietly talking to them. Sounds crazy? Well it worked.

Many Australians think Wallabies and Kangaroos are different. Many people outside of Australia have only heard of Kangaroos. It’s a fact that Wallabies and Kangaroos are close relatives and we just call the smaller onesWallabies and the bigger ones Kangaroos. There’s no scientific reason for the different names.

There will be more photos from time to time. If you want to buy any of my photos any that are for sale will be on iStockphoto and they don’t cost much. It depends on the quality and size you want to buy and that depends on what you want them for. Here’s the link to my portfolio on iStock - http://www.istockphoto.com/user_view.php?id=164000 You can flick through it or use the search box to find the one you are after.

What’s that black and white bird? It’s an Australian Magpie, quite different from the birds called Magpies in Europe and North America. Aussie Magpies have a really wonderful voice and early every morning I listen to them singing (if I’m awake) their strong melodious songs.

It irks me to say this but knowing some people are dishonest I must state that all photos are copyright. I don’t want to put watermarks on them but if I find stealing going on I will. Anyone wanting to use them can sign in and send me a request and we’ll make an arrangement that satisfies us both. These have been reduced from higher quality originals.

This is Girraween with its rock garden landscape and spectacular rocky hills. A gardener could never design a better mixture of plants and landscape features. Even the exquisite Master of the Nets Garden which I saw in Suzhou (that has been copied in the Museum of Modern Art in New York) cannot match Girraween. The name means ‘Place of Flowers’ in the local Aboriginal language and it is at its most beautiful in August and September when many of its plants are blossoming. Look at the patterns of weathering on the rock surface above and Nature’s design in the eucalyptus tree bark. Perhaps I can go back at the right time to show you the flowers later in the year.

Tommy; Nightsky on the farm; beautiful foliage; A rusty old drum (Well, I think it’s beautiful). All photos are copyright, of course.

It was the third of January and the weather forecast had predicted temperatures within my comfortable range so I went for my first journey in Nightsky. It took me a long time to get out of the Brisbane area because of a non-intuitive design in the fuel cap. I couldn’t get it open even after a phone call to the car yard to get advice. When I took delivery of the car they had filled the tank for me and I had not needed to refill until that Saturday. After sitting in the petrol station fiddling with the fuel cap for about fifteen minutes I turned the car around and set off for the car yard.
On the way I passed a suburb favoured by Chinese migrants and stopped for lunch. I was starving. One reason that I stopped at that particular shopping centre is that I had read there were a couple of reasonably priced Chinese restaurants that sold Jiaozi. For those that don’t know, that is boiled Chinese dumpling and I really like them. When I found a small restaurant that sold them I was happy because it is now nearly a year since I last ate them.
Two young Chinese women came in and gave me friendly glances so I said ‘Zaoshang hao’ and that started a conversation. I sat with them and we had a nice chat. They are from Taiwan and one is on a working holiday visa and the other has a farm in this area growing Chinese vegetables. It was a good experience and they were both happy to meet a laowai speaking a little Chinese. From my side, I found their pronunciation of Putonghua (Mandarin) very understandable.
After a quick lunch I went for my lesson on how to get my tank open, filled up, and headed off on my journey again. About 120 kilometres later I was in the town of Toowoomba, at the top of an escarpment west of Brisbane, to see a nice friend I had not seen since 2003. We had a light meal in a coffee shop/restaurant and chatted happily for about two hours, sharing and catching up on each other’s life during the last five years.
Then I drove off to my main destination, my old friend Tommy’s place just south of Stanthorpe. It is about 250 kilometres south west of Brisbane by the more direct route and somewhat further if one travels via Toowoomba.
Tom is 81 now and I have known him since about 1973. Despite our age difference (I’m still much less than 100) we are great friends. He is a wonderful character who has lived a really interesting life and an atheist whose life is an example to any Christian or religious believer who is open to observe without prejudice. He is one of my greatest role models and his lovely wife, Eileen was one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever met, and a highly spiritual person.
The visit was a three day talkfest. When I was younger I would just listen to Tom’s treasure chest of anecdotes but I am pleased to say that now I can swap anecdote for anecdote and story for story. Life has been rich and there are a lot of experiences to draw on.
He and his son live on a small rocky farm in a peaceful valley over the ridge from Giraween National Park. The air is so fresh and pure I woke up the first morning and felt overwhelmed by the silence and the richness of the air I was breathing. Even the birds seemed to quieten their morning song in reverent respect.
That morning I went out for a walk and tried to get as close as possible to a family of blue wrens that ranged in a territorial area around the house. They allowed me within three to four metres but as they are small birds it was not close enough to take a good photo. I just call this bird the Blue Wren or the Superb Blue Wren but the word ‘Fairy’ is often added. The male is brightly coloured but the females and juveniles are no less lovely, but with brown colouring that blends into the landscape so they are harder to see. The cock bird perches on the highest branch of a bush or some other perch no more than two or three metres high and sings beautifully to proclaim his mastery of the territory and perhaps to keep his little family together. I wonder how he has time enough to eat and keep up his strength. The others hop about on the ground or in the shrubs and eat, mainly seeds.
On the second morning Tommy and I were yarning in the kitchen when suddenly two kangaroos went bouncing past the window at speed. They would have been grazing on the cropped grass by the washing lines when something startled them. I saw them twice more on my walks around the farm, grazing in cleared areas, but they are shy and took flight as soon as we saw each other. I felt like calling out, ‘Don’t be afraid. You’re safe with me.’
Everything must come to an end and when the weather turned hotter I decided to leave. It would be lovely to live in such a spot but I am not practically skilled and could not do the home mechanical repairs, to pumps and other basic life sustaining machinery, that are required to live outside of urban areas.
I could not leave the district without calling in to Giraween, an old favourite haunt of mine and a beautiful, granite bouldered area worthy of its National park status. I’ll post a few photos taken on the farm and at Giraween.
Driving into Giraween I went around the camping areas first and was pleased to see the local roos have come to trust the campers so much that there were five just resting in the shade as they do in the hot hours of the day, watching me drive past. I came within a few feet of two kangaroos and they just seemed curious, not afraid. Then I parked Nightsky and went walking for about half an hour to an area where the creek runs between large rocks. There is a junction area some way further on that is one of the most scenic spots but I was not fit enough to go there too. Sad that the weather had become too hot for me to be comfortable, I left to drive back to Brisbane.
On the way home I stopped in the town of Warwick and had lunch in a surprisingly ­­­­good restaurant called Mussels. The chef is a trained pastrycook and it was hard to resist the delicious selection of superb-looking pastries on display. Reading the description of other menu items I found he is a perfectionist confectionist with an understanding of good cooking beyond what I expect in a country town.
Nightsky performed beautifully throughout the trip and I am happy I have a really comfortable and well designed car for my travels in Australia. The seats and steering column have plenty of adjustments so I can tailor them for optimum comfort and, as for carrying everything I need, there is plenty of room and there are plenty of anchor points for straps to make everything safe. The back seats fold forward for extra luggage room and there is the bed. This time I had a comfortable bed at Tommy’s but as soon as I hear we are to have another few days with maximum temperatures of under twenty-eight I’ll be off again to test my ability to camp successfully in some great beauty spot.

It was early evening and I walked down past the Fish and Chip Shop with its lovely Vietnamese family and over the road and through the family recreation area. Nearby was the long stone jetty and I walked out on it drinking the cool sea air and looking up at the stars. Orion the hunter was slipping towards the horizon to my left as the Southern Cross climbed towards the Zenith on my right. The tide was out and I noticed a grey bird stalking over the mud flats. It kept pace with me for a while as I walked. Two thirds of the way out I reached the waterline and left the bird behind.

The jetty ends in a T and there are benches to sit on, which were my destination. As I reached the T I saw another grey bird in the darkness and a second flew to meet it from the direction of the shore. They greeted each other with guttural utterances. I moved slowly and carefully to try to avoid startling them and they stayed nearby for a few minutes as I approached the bench I wanted to sit on. I now know the birds are White-faced Herons. They stalked off together and vocalised to each other and seemed to be affectionate. I wondered if they were a breeding pair. The Herons remained on the T of the jetty.

I sat and relaxed on my bench in the semi-darkness, looking around me at the sea and the sky, experiencing the vast slow movement of ocean and the slower and vaster movement of sky, feeling the very light breeze and relaxing. When I got up I walked slowly and gently, hoping to pass the birds without frightening them away but they moved onto the main arm of the jetty and flew as I came within ten metres of them. As I looked down the length of the construction the light from the lamps spaced along it revealed a heron here and there. I wondered what attracted them until I saw one of them loft up gracefully, snapping at an insect in the light.

Coming to each bird I would ever walk more slowly and approach it cautiously. I tried mimicking the guttural cry once and though it was a poor attempt the bird looked at me and stayed a little longer than the others before flying off. Near the shore end I was able to stand next to one of the birds a pace away. It turned and casually walked past me in the direction I had come from. Just after that I came to a family with two dogs and keeping the same attitude of spirit I let the dogs explore me until they trusted me to pat them. The two women and their children were friendly too so we exchanged greetings and moved on. It had been a beautiful walk on the jetty.