Nature calls

Not far from anywhere in Canberra you walk into open land, often nature parks or reserves.

Usually heading for open grass land, the walker's favoured destinations are hills in between suburbs. The hills are open because someone charged with the responsibility of bringing the winning town plan of 1912 into fruition (or was it Walter Burley Griffin himself?) chose to make a rule that no-one could build above a contour line around 600 metres altitude, so the hilltops are gloriously undeveloped. Good thinking, since in most other cities there's a rush to grab the high ground and charge double or put a church on it. 

The rolling grassland around the Canberra area is sparse, the topsoil of this ancient continent well weathered or non-existent, the trees various sorts of eucalypt and wattle, and the undergrowth scrubby. After a few showers of rain, however, the grass starts to take notice; and 'full many a flower is born to blush unseen', as Thomas Gray's Elegy would have it, but not to 'waste its sweetness on the desert air' - as long as we continue to walk the ridges and admire their collective efforts. 

Reminders of a serious bushfire that swept through from the west some 6 years ago, destroying several lives, properties and 500 houses, are still clearly evident. Fire is a natural, in some ways necessary (for regeneration and seed germination), part of the Australian environment, however, and the beauty returns quickly. Birds are heard and seen everywhere, usually black or brown, sometimes a startling red or green of a parrot but often, as in the case of these pink and grey cockatoos, soft and gentle colours that more readily match the smoky greys on which the Australian palette is based. 

Don't get me going on that interesting topic.  The so-called Australian impressionists of the Heidelberg school and later artist like Arthur Boyd and Fred Williams; in Canada the Group of Seven and Tom Thompson, all spent weeks in their own  countrysides trying to absorb, capture and interpret the essential colours that defined the look of their natural environment. In Australia, the heat haze, long distances, dry dusty climate and the resultant vegetation gives the palette a washed or smoky grey feel. In cold Canada by contrast (and alpine Switzerland too no doubt - but other local experts may write more authoritatively on that subject), the dark green pines, brilliant white snow, dark rock formations and deep blue lakes led artists to favour much stronger primaries and contrasts.

Meanwhile, back near the ranch, a walkers' daily encounter includes the Eastern Grey 'roo, often still carrying a well-grown joey in its pouch long after the little terror should have been turfed out of home to fend for itself ( - which Gen was that again?). It's not unusual to see the long hind legs, rather than an inquisitive snout, protruding from the longsuffering mother's (tautology?) pouch. 

The kangaroos will allow you to approach only so far before  hopping off amongst the ubiquitous eucalypts, whose iconic leaves, instantly recognisable to Aussies the world over, are surprisingly short and rounded in the young tree.  

And back at the ranch itself, the beautiful wood of this oiled bench (well known to some readers) is a spotted gum, a variety that grows in a long strip along the east coast. But then again, that depends on which spotted gum you mean, since there are several varieties amongst the hundreds of eucalypts and related species - there were 606 of them in 1934 and now running at around 800.