wilderness native

Finding gorgeous Australian natives in the wilderness is rather special for me. Wonderful memories of bushwalking with my father. He’d point them out to me and inform me of thier common and botanical names. I struggled to remember the botanical ones. But the ones with visuals went in. Names like donkey ears or green hood or eggs and bacon. I have never been good with names of things that didn’t make some sort of connection with me.

I lament that dad was often too busy in his constant state of repairing everything to go on more walks with me. So every one that we did do remains special in my memory and heart.

The first was from our home in Leura, we walked to the three pinnacles along mount hay road. Camped the night. Slept in a tiny paddy Palin canvas tent on bracken cut for the job. We cooked on a fire with an aluminium billy that was so black with soot it would work in one of my prints. We ate oats for breakfast. We walked back. I was probably about eight at the time.

I think the last major walk we did was when I was sixteen. But it may have been younger. We caught the train to mount Victoria and walked down the gross valley. We stopped overnight in blue gum forest and dad talked about giving money for its purchase and its ultimate conservation. We walked for three days coming up locklies pylon walking back to Leura station along mount hay road. In essence redoing our first walk. Andrew Lockheart came with us.

Andrew and I started doing our own walks soon afterwards. I was walking a lot with scouts too. And my walking with my father stopped as I became too busy with my own life.

At least there were some others in between. But not enough to be satisfied. I do wish there were more, now as I look back with fondness.

I took this photograph with Cyan as we traversed the Western Arthur’s earlier this year. A highlight of our joint adventures together. He’s asking to do more. And we will. It’s so exciting that he wants to do big long walks with me. To think my son has become my walking buddy. I fear he’ll take off like I did soon and I’ll be left lamenting our time together.

Get some good ones in while we can I say.

A flower on a ridge in South West Tasmania. Photograph and text copyright © Len Metcalf 2020