Tag Archives: bush

Natural bush remnants amidst agricultural lands – posting 5 of 5

I hope you enjoy the subtle colours in the reflections on the Derwent River in this  video.  Did you hear the kookaburra?

I hope you enjoy the sounds (make sure your volume is turned up) and the sense of peace as the Derwent River rushed past me in the next two videos:  here with the sound of a crow, and here.

I always enjoy pretty sights of decay, although my photo doesn’t bring out the intense orange colour of the fungi that I remember.

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Natural bush remnants amidst agricultural lands –posting 1 of 5

The bush, whether  or not it has been disturbed by farmers, hydro workers, road makers or forestry men, is always alluring and endlessly attractive. It may be open, tangled or dense. Agriculturalists may have cleared land leaving occasional remnants of bush and tufts of its natural grasses. It will contain natives and exotics. The bush may be dry or wet. The colour may be grey-green naturally or from a dusty overlay.  Alternatively, myriads of other shades of green, grey, beige, and brown will fleck against rocky outcrops and the black or green glassiness of the Derwent River passing through.

The following photos and those in the subsequent postings in this series, were taken at various locations between Meadowbank Dam and its Power Station towards Gretna.

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Tarraleah Canal No 1 walk – signs to side roads along the way

Around the Mossy Marsh Creek area and elsewhere, many short roads intersected with the Hydro road. These are pathways to assist Hydro Tas with monitoring and managing various aspects of the water flow.  They allowed me to continue to follow the Canal and be near the original river bed. Enjoy the glorious bush in the photos below.

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Blog readers will have seen signs before, however the lovely things about these photos include the colours of the adjacent bush, the depth of soft looking leaf mulch beneath the tall trees and the sense of a rich wilderness all around.  The environment was truly splendid. Having a road to walk on was such a boon – manoeuvring through that bush would have been a major trial and perhaps not nearly as pleasant.

How to draw a forest

Many posts ago, I referred readers to the excellent online magazine Tasmanian Geographic.

The most recent issue contains an article which surprised me – a new topic for me, offering a new way of visualising the bush.  Paula Peeters has considered ‘How to Draw a Forest’. Her article made me realise that because of our perspective as we walk we never see ‘a forest’ at close range and we only ever see parts of the trees.  Of course this was obvious once it was pointed out. Now I am re-evaluating the way I look and think about our Tasmanian bush.

The Derwent River at night

Tasmania’s bush, its coast and urban areas offer a photographer’s paradise at all times of day and night across the four seasons.

This Amazing Planet  is one of many blogs that show spectacular photographs of Tasmania’s flora, fauna and landscape. Go to Nightscape-Hobart for a stunning visual treat. Enjoy looking at part of the glorious Greater Hobart Area, at night, photographed from on top of Mount Wellington. Between the two sides of the city, the rich blue Derwent River passes on its way to Stormy Bay and then the sea. The brightly lit Tasman Bridge can be seen to join the two shore lines.

Religious wildernesses

I remember childhood Bible stories referred to the Wilderness. These days I find it interesting to consider most if not all religions link with the concept of the wilderness. Laura Feldt covered this topic in “Wilderness in Mythology and Religion”: ‘Wilderness is one of the most abiding creations in the history of religions.’ Her book ‘addresses the need for cross-cultural anthropological and history of religions analyses by offering in-depth case studies of the use and functions of wilderness spaces in a diverse range of contexts including, but not limited to, ancient Greece, early Christian asceticism, Old Norse religion, the shamanism-Buddhism encounter in Mongolia, contemporary paganism, and wilderness spirituality in the US.’

In her 2014 article ‘Religions need wilderness’, Kathleen Braden wrote “The three monotheistic religions based on a common root – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – have an expression of nature and wilderness as places that allow perception of God’s sovereignty. … Wilderness is a territory (both on land and sea) where one encounters God, and it is not always an easy geography. For the ancient Israelites, it may be a place of repentance coupled with renewal. When the Israelites leave Egypt and displease God, they must wander in hostile lands before reaching a promised place. Abraham casts the slave woman, Hagar, into the wilderness, but she is saved by God, who renews her spirit and gives her a vision that she will build a great nation. Similarly, in the New Testament, the gospel of Mark begins with John the Baptist proclaiming God in the wilderness, foretelling the Christ who is to come, and calling for, again, repentance. Jesus has his own time in the wilderness being tested and honed for his ministry. For believing Muslims, creation is a gift from God and a sign of God’s grace. Similar to Judaic and Christian traditions, in Islam, nature reflects the dominion of God, not the hubris of human control. For these three monotheistic faiths that began in the Middle East, groups of believers through history have set themselves apart in monastic communities, often seeking out the wild places in self-imposed exile to allow the voice of God to be understood more clearly.

In other religions, nature and the sacred helps bring humanity into a right relationship with creation. Baha’i traditions hold that nature reflects the perfection of God and thus, sacred spaces help create a sense of harmony, transformation, and wholeness. In Hinduism and Jainism, nature reflects the abundance that the earth provides and also reminds us of the wholeness of humanity with all other life forms: there should be no barriers or separation.

Likewise, Buddhism suggests that nothing that exists is in isolation, but the sacred can lead us to understand the interdependence of all living things and help us express compassion for creation. Some sects of Buddhism also have, like the desert Christian communities, an ascetic tradition, adherents who must be removed from the material world. Their spiritual quests may be best realized in wilderness.

Religions or traditions with cultural hearths further east in Asia – Shintoism, Confucianism, Daoism – also have expressions of harmony and continuity with nature, but perhaps more in a cosmological view, although places, such as sacred stands of trees with shrines in Shintoism, may be manifest of the need to have a holy place of contemplation and refreshment.

Finally, Indigenous religious traditions are so varied and numerous that outlining them in a short essay might risk stereotyping these faiths. But in many regions, Indigenous spiritual traditions connect the wild with a worldview that interweaves humanity with nature in an unbroken relationship. Whether the shamanistic traditions of Central Asia, Native American religions of North and South America, pre-Christian European practices, animistic faiths of the African continent, or contemporary paganism, none are devoid of practices and stories related to the human relationship with nature. 

While the sacred does not have to be wilderness, wild places must be sacred. Religion needs wilderness. Whether we call this hunger an expression of God’s sovereignty or evidence of the union of all living things or connection with ancestors and a world of spirits, religion requires the wild – the not-us – to show a crucial interrelationship. The threats to wilderness, therefore, also pose a danger to the heart of humanity’s most treasured faith doctrines.”

As an atheist I don’t believe a God or other deities exist, whatever name is given by any religion. However, I am happy to be playful with one ancient Greek god who came out of retirement to meet me. A recent comment by my sister about the danger of snakes when I walk in the Tasmanian bush (all Tasmanian snakes inject their venom poisonously), reminded me of my meeting with Zeus last year. While walking in the visitor-less grounds of one of his temples located in Dion, northern eastern Greece, he and I surprised each other. Zeus has the ability to transform himself and appear as a snake. There he was basking in the sun near the end of the path I was following. Having welcomed me, he slipped away quickly.  I felt very safe then, as I will do when walking along the Derwent River. Besides, Tasmania’s Mt Olympus overlooks Lake St Clair on its western flank, and we all know Zeus’s home is Mt Olympus, albeit the one in Greece. I suspect Zeus will look out for me in some form, and make sure I reach Lake St Clair.

Despite not believing in a God, I do believe in the personally transformative power of the bush, wilderness, forests, whatever you may call those bunches of trees and natural collections of flora and fauna.

When with friends I have talked about walking, particularly in the bush, as a meditative practice. Sometimes the impact of the bush and its flora and fauna is so great that a well of great happiness is tapped – as evidenced, for example, by my bursting into song as described in an earlier post . At the end of any walk, words such as reinvigorated, revitalised, relaxed, uplifted, satisfied and at peace always come to mind. In addition, the power of the bush allows me to put the rest of life and living into perspective. Nature and its forces are so much stronger and more beautiful than any one of us, and it is a delight to be reminded of this in such profound ways. The rich rare world out there, rather than any religious connection, draws me to our wilderness.

Golden acacias

In our Tasmanian bush and in the suburbs Spring is evidenced by the budding and blooming of the early flowering native acacias. Last year, I included photographs of a few different varieties of these trees, commonly known as wattles, in various blog posts. Over the weekend during a suburban ramble, I was delighted to come across the early awakenings of a couple of wattle trees.

In my photo below, on the lower left of the image you can see some ‘open’ flower balls. As yet I have not been able to identify this acacia tree: it looked something like an Acacia Riceana otherwise known as the Arching Wattle, but it was not a prickly bush so this means it is another variety of the 950 species of acacias.

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Wattles have been known and used by Australia’s indigenous population for thousands of years as an excellent food source. According to WildSeed Tasmania  , the Acacia mearnsii ‘Black Wattle’ is one of a number of local wattle trees which have edible seeds suitable for flour production and for medicinal uses of its bark. More information can be read at Bush Tucker Edible Acacias. The Australian Native Food Industry says the edible parts are ‘Seed – the seed is harvested, then roasted and can be ground or sold whole. The flowers (without stalks) can also be used, typically in pancakes, scones and scrambled eggs or omelettes.’ This website also contains information about the nutritional value: wattle seed is a high energy source, contains a wide range of minerals and provides valuable fibre to the diet. The seed pods appear in the first part of the year so, when I am walking along the Derwent in the first three months of 2016, I will remember this readily available food source.

Finding cooked produce containing wattle seed in cafes or restaurants is not unusual. Native Tastes of Australia lists many recipes for mouthwatering cakes, pies, meat dishes and much more.

Trees co-operating with themselves to create completely connected and supportive communication systems

I will be heading out into the wilds of the Tasmanian bush later this year when I walk near the more inhospitable edges of the Derwent River through old-growth forests; I will be walking away from any tracks and be remote from civilisation.

On this basis, it was with interest I read the article at http://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2015/05/20/4236600.htm. New research about underground communication has extended 30 year old research which introduced the practice of above ground communication between plants in forests.  There is talk of ‘mother’ trees.

Some readers might consider this is a crack pot viewpoint that has come out of the inclinations of green politics with which they don’t agree.  So I checked who the researchers were, their affiliations were and whether any funding might be seen to skew their research findings.

Leading this research is an academic at the University of British Colombia, Professor/Dr Suzanne Simard who works in the Faculty of Forestry.  Her research is grant funded by a neutral body, the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada – so that the research findings are not created to support any organisation which wants a particular outcome.  At her university, Simard leads Terre WEB (the Terrestrial Research on Ecosystem & World-wide Education and Broadcast project) a Masters and PhD degree level training program that focuses on effective communication of global change research.

You can watch and listen to Suzanne talking in a video as she walks in a forest: go to http://www.ecology.com/2012/10/08/trees-communicate/.  She offers a simple but extraordinary explanation of the process.  Takes less than 5 minutes to watch.