Rainy Carols, Foggy day to follow.

The Tourist Road Oval Christmas Carols and Picnic was held yesterday, despite a light drizzle.

The Wukka Plukkas, a local Ukelele group

Margaret Whatman and Lucy Palmer
the driving forces behind the Tourist Road Oval carols.

This morning I read the rain guage, and recorded 9 mm overnight. Then it rained some more during the morning. Then a heavy fog rolled in.

Green foliage glows in low light

The new growth on the Bunya Pine
always fascinates me

Eucryphia in full flower - in the mist

The local Eucryphia moorei (or "Pinkwood") is currently in full flower around the village of Robertson. It does not always put on a good show, but this year, it is doing so.

I have previously written about the finer details of this flower. Today I show the full flowering shrub.

A full view of a medium-sized Eucryphia shrub
It is about 7 years old (I planted this one).
It is now well over head height,
and nearly as broad as high.
In nature, the Eucryphia
can grow into a large tree.

This image shows the strong patterns
created by the leaves.
Botanically the leaves are described as
"pinnate, mostly 5–15 cm long;
leaflets usually 5–13
but often reduced to 3 on flowering branches".
Source: PlantNET

A brighter image
shows the large number of flowers.
Bees and Spinebills are attracted to the flowers.
It is closely related to the Tasmanian Leatherwood,
which is famous for the honey produced from that tree.

And this is the most which has stayed with us from the thunderstorms of yesterday, and has not cleared at all, today.

A view through the mist this afternoon.
The powerline stanchion
is about 400 metres away.

Diagonally sloping cloud of mist

I have never seen a local cloud of mist behave like this before.

Fog over Hampden Park at Soccer Training night

For some strange reason the fog on the left hand side of the park is very low - waist high or less.

In the middle of the Park it has risen over the girls heads, to about 3 or 4 metres.

Very strange, but it made for a nice atmosphere, and the Football (Soccer) training was going ahead, very successfully.

Robertson's weather - extraordinarily ordinary.

Well, we are not having the floods of Queensland, although our location on top of the escarpment is equivalent to that of Toowoomba.

What we are getting is grey, misty skies. Sometimes raining, sometimes leaking watery sunlight through the clouds.

It is difficult to make Robertson's weather sound "romantic". The best I can say is that in Robertson we do "ordinary" weather "extraordinarily well".

This month, our rainfall has been consistent, but not dramatic. Rain, alternating with mist, drizzle, more mist, rain and fog.The rainfall so far this month has been: 0; 2; 0; 4; 0; 0.5; 0; 15; 7; 24; 24; 43; 1 (all in mm).

Unlike the Inuit people of Greenland (who according to Peter Hoeg, in "Miss Smilla's feeling for snow" ) have more than twenty different words for snow, we Robertson people do not, but we can go close for different words for fog. 

Well, actually we could if we were a more literate society (instead of a Potato-growing, Rugby League-obsessed community).

I measure the fog by the visibility factor - how far I can see through the fog.

There is a standard measure. Aircraft pilots have defined fog and mist as follows:
"Fog is visibility less than 1000 meters and mist, by definition, is visibility between 1000 and 5000 meters. Both have their origins in light suspended cloud droplets with a nearly 100% relative humidity and an abundance of condensation nuclei."

Are they kidding? 

That's not a real fog - not in Robertson, anyway.

Visibility reduced to 5 Kms approx (beyond Belmore Falls)

 I measure Real Robertson Fog in terms of 

those trees which are the furthest away which I can see from my back deck.

• If the trees at the Cemetery (800 metres away) disappear, that is a light fog.
• if the Power stanchion in the next paddock below my house, disappears, that is a medium fog, or more likely, a heavy rain cloud rolling in from Kangaroo Valley.

Visibility reduced to my back paddock - 200 metres.

Bright light, medium fog

• If the trees in the lower paddock (100 metres away) disappear, that is a medium-thick fog.

Medium-thick Fog - today

•   There is another complication - the depth of fog directly above me. In other words, is the fog really part of a dense cloud? If so, it dramatically lessens the available light. So I can have a bright fog, a dull fog, or a dark fog, depending not on the "density" of the fog itself, but the amount of light coming through the clouds above. Sometimes the light in a fog can be so bright as to almost cause "white out". Yet it can still be a thick fog.

• Of course, there is yet another factor - I can have clear air (in my immediate vicinity)  but be looking at a wall of fog rolling up the valley. That is illustrated in the series of photos in the blog post from October 23, 2008.
• If the furthest tree I can see is the Sassafras growing 30 metres from my house, then, and only then, do I rate that as a true thick Robertson fog.

DRIVING IN FOG?  

I suggest you take note of the white road "dividing markers" kindly used on the main roads in the Robertson area by the RTA. Because we are an area known for experiencing fog, they are very strict in ensuring our roads are marked.

RTA illustration

• According to Table 4.1 in that document linked above, the white lines are 3 metres long, and spaced at 9 metre intervals.

• If you can (just) see the next white line mark, you have a fog visibility factor measured at 12 metres. Two white lines, means you can see out to 24 metres. Either way, that is a serious fog and it is a definite road hazard.

VISIBILITY APPROX 24 METRES - SLOW DOWN

• If you are driving in such a fog, my advice would be: 

1. Adjust your driving speed according to the conditions. 
2. Slow down, 
3. Put your head lights on (even in daylight). 
4. Experienced local drivers use their hazard lights (blinkers).

Third day of fog and drizzle in Robbo.

I go stir crazy after three days of conditions like these.

The bush is dripping wet, the birds are nearly invisible, and I refuse to go looking in the wet leaf litter for Orchids.
I went and visited Andy and Anni this afternoon, which was lovely. Nice company, and the tail end of Christmas goodies, including Anni's own Dill-cured Salmon, and some of Andy's home-made Pate, served with a pickle, and Lingonberry sauce. That is a traditional Finnish touch, apparently. Very refreshing indeed.

I had started the day early, shortly after sunlight started to peer through the fog.

Fog and Mist 6:58 am (3rd day of Fog)

I decided to put out a Pear, for any "early birds". They were around, but I missed seeing them. Judging by how fast the first half of the pear disappeared, I assume the early visitors were Bowerbirds, or Currawongs.

Small and medium birds waiting their turn.
A Little Wattlebird (low down)
and a Lewin's Honeyeater (up high)

When next I checked, the fog had cleared somewhat - visibility rated at about 300 metres (maybe).

11:34 am - close to midday.A series of Little Wattlebirds (Anthochaera chrysoptera) came to peck surreptitiously at the fruit.

If you look closely, under the apple there is a pool of juice.

It took me a while to work out what this bird was doing.
But of course, it was lapping up the juice
with its specialised nectar-feeding tongue.

Then a female Satin Bowerbird (Ptilonorhynchus violaceus) came in to finish its share of the meal.

The fog had moved back in on us, later in the afternoon.
Fog and mist at 5:34 pm.
Visibilty reduced to 100 metres again.

And then a Lewin's Honeyeater (Meliphaga lewinii)
came back in for a last peck.

Summer? It hardly seems like it.

Unfortunately, the two rainfall reporting stations in Robertson are both "off-line" from the Bureau of Meteorology's rainfall reporting system. I will report this to them on Tuesday, the next scheduled working day. I know they are busty with flood warnings at present, elsewhere in the State.

Gerringong Falls in the mist - plants, fungi, moth.

On Sunday I went with my friend Jim and several other people, on a walk to Gerringong Falls. This is yet another of the small creeks which become waterfalls as they drop into the Upper Kangaroo Valley. This is a smaller, but in many ways more interesting waterfall than Carrington Falls - which is the main "tourist" waterfall in this area - east of Robertson. To clarify, Fitzroy Falls is the largest and best known waterfall in the district - but it drops into the Shoalhaven Valley, well to the west. Ultimately, all these falls end up in the Shoalhaven River.I have done the treck down to the bottom of the Gerrigong Falls previously, but I am not fit enough, at present. The trip down involved squeezing through a "chimney" (a crack in rocks) which is something which I do not fancy, I must admit.Anyway I was happy to walk in with jim and the group, to the top of the Falls, and then, I made my way back to the car, slowly, by myself (with Jim's knowledge and consent). That gave me an opportunity to do some serious plant hunting. Well it would have been better if it had not been misting. But in a weird sort of way, it made for some attractive images, with rain drops on the flowers.

Isopogon anemonifolius - budding up.

Sprengelia incarnata - with rain drops.

Fairies Aprons or Bladderwort.

Utricularia dichotoma

Fairies Aprons - side view.

There were also some Fungi around - not many, but some were of interest.

This is the largest "Paint Fungus" I have ever seen. It was on a burnt trunk of a Eucalypt tree. I have seen many paint fungi before, but seldom have I seen such a well defined, large specimen. It is about 30 cm (about 18 inches) long. It looked for all the world like a patch of white leather spread across the burnt wood. Here is the same specimen, close up. You can see at the left hand edge, that there is a slightly raised surface, and then it is still growing outwards, at a slightly lower, and thinner layer.
This is a golden form of a Jelly Fungus. A small one, with definite shape, growing out like paddles, on stems. My finger is shown for scale, so please forgive the grubby fingernail.The last photo for tonight is of a moth which was unusual in several respects. Firstly, it was flying in daylight (admittedly, it was a dull day). But it was also a moth which holds itself in an unusual way - the body is not visible, but its stance is high, not squatting the way some moths do. Then the wings are held almost flat, but wide spread. There are distinct patterns on th eiw=wings, including a definite line across both sets of wings, and four prominent dots.
Finally, it has some very prominent, but short antennae. Many moths have "rams horn" antennae, which are wide spread. Not this one. Its neat antennae point straight forward. I have never seen anything like it before. Its wing spread was about 30 mm across (1 and a half inches).
The closest I can get to an ID for this moth is a "Triangular Moth" (Epidesmia chilonaria). If I am right, it is of the "Looper Caterpillar" family (GEOMETRIDAE)

Pizzas in the Mists? - ooops - Gorillas in the Swamps

I am able to report that this morning, we briefly had "lumpy rain", at about 5 degrees Celsius. Not quite "mist" but close enough to justify this headline. Visibility 200 metres. Cold and wet. Large diagonal stripes in the image are the wet hail or sleet, or what I call "lumpy rain".
My heading, of course is a pun on the wonderfully named "Pizzas in the Mist" restaurant here in Robertson, and the second bit is a reference to a famous Movie, in case you didn't work that out.

I am indebted to James Woodford's wonderful weekly blog update at "realdirt.com.au" for this advice about an important story about a relatively recently discovered population of Western Lowland Gorillas *** in the Republic of Congo. That country is NOT the much larger and less environmentally safe Democratic Republic of Congo - as is explained by Fran Kelly's guest, who makes a slight correction to her introduction, as you will hear if you follow the link below).

Back in the dark ages (late 1960s) when I was a theological student in Rome, and a room-mate of a young Prince from the Congo (I kid you not) this country was known as Congo Brazzaville, and the other bigger and more dangerous one was called Congo Kinshasa. That latter country became known as Zaire under its tyrannical ruler, President Mobutu, but has since returned to being known as the Democratic Republic of the Congo. If you read both those two Wikipedia links you will realise that my comment "more dangerous" is a relative term.

By the way, I have not heard of or from my former room-mate, Joseph Nyeme, in 40 years. He did write to me in 1969, from Rome. I fear he has long since been "silenced". I have never done a full Red Cross missing persons search, but he does not appear in any Internet searches which I have conducted.

Anyway, I have digressed.

******

Thanks to James Woodford's blog link taking me to the ABC's Radio National website, I was able to listen to Fran Kelly's interview about the discovery of a colony of some 125,000 Western Lowland Gorillas living in a wet, swampy rainforest. It seems they have survived the "bushmeat" trade, because of the difficulty of accessing their habitat. Long may they remain - safe and wet, in there.

*****

What's in a name?

*** The Western Lowland Gorillas rejoice in the scientific name: "Gorilla gorilla gorilla".
That us scientific jargon for "Watch out: I think there's a Gorilla behind that bush!"

This is more impressive, but no more explanatory than the unimaginative "Rattus rattus" (which you can guess) or my other favourite scientific name, "Crex crex" - the European bird called the "Corn Crake" - a type of marsh bird in the Rail family (can you guess what its call is like?). Those early biologists were not very imaginative in their names.

If you don't know what a Gorilla is, then saying it 3 times doesn't actually explain anything to the unwary naturalist, but, in this case, I can see that it might just add a sense of urgency. Especially if it is said like this:
Gorilla - Gorilla - GORILLA.

The unimaginative scientific names for animals is a theme which Nick Rheinberger has wittily explored in his current article in the local Southern Highlands magazine: "Your Times" published Wednesday 6 August 2008. Have a read - its right at the back of the "Your Times" magazine.

Illawarra Fly in the Mist

Yesterday in the late afternoon, the Illawarra Fly was looking terrific, or better expressed, the forest was looking great, in the damp. The leaves of the tall Eucalypts were dripping onto the Tree Ferns below - just the way Nature intended.

Even though the weather was misty, almost threatening, a good number of members of the Robertson Chamber of Commerce turned up for a familiarisation tour of the Illawarra Fly last evening. The Robertson locals are not put off by mist and drizzle.

Bernie and Dorothy

Within moments of starting to walk out onto the metal ramps, there was a real sense of excitement in the group. "Look how high we are - in the treetops already".

Dion (photo: Dorothy Baker)

This is achieved by the clever placement of the start of the Fly, at a point where the hillside drops away steeply, towards the edge of the escarpment proper (the actual cliffline is not far away, but we could not see it last night).But that did not disappoint us, for just the sense of being in the treetops, and then above them, in swirling mist and light rain was very invigorating.

Sean, the Manager of the Illawarra Fly, in the mist.

For the record, several of the group were a touch nervous of the heights, but the kids loved it. Running along the ramps, and inevitably getting a bit of a sway going. The management are fairly relaxed about this, as they know the construction has been designed to cope with movement - it has to be able to sway and flex, to withstand the forces of heavy winds (in a storm).

Penny and Larry,
and several local teenagers in the background

Did I say that in addition to the series of metal posts which support the main load of the structure, there are huge steel guy-wires steading the structure? I am convinced that it is perfectly safe. But for some people, there will always be an uncomfortable feeling of being far higher off the ground than one is normally used to. C'est la vie!

"On the edge of the world"

(photo: Dorothy Baker)

Speaking personally, I love the Illawarra Fly experience. This is my second visit and I have still not seen it on a really clear day. I look forward to the opportunity to see it like that soon enough.

The secret revenge of the Leech

Two days ago, I was out at Carrington Falls Reserve, taking photos of the red, brown and orange flowers and creatures, in the mist and rain. I also snapped this lovely fresh flower of the endangered Carrington Falls Grevillea (Grevillea rivularis) - which is endemic to this small Reserve. The fresh flowers start out purple (like this one) and fade slowly to pink and creamy tones, as the flowers mature. Unbeknown to me, a Leech managed to penetrate my sock (no insect repellent used). It was not visible to me while I was out in the bush, as it was inside my shoe. I now regret my lack of preparation for this bush stroll which I had undertaken, on an impulse.

I had seen that a gate, which is normally closed, had been opened, and left open. Odd, I thought.
Once inside the Reserve, I could hear machinery operating, and then found an NPWS truck. So I figured it was Sam and others doing work in the park. But as I am on the Committee of Management for the Reserve, I thought I would check out which of the various projects which need to be undertaken, was actually being worked on.

I walked along the trail, following the sounds of machinery operating, and chatted with Sam for a few moments. It turned out to be some unscheduled work, to clear several large trees, one of which ( a very large one) had fallen, and had brought down several smaller (but large) trees, across the main fire trail, totally blocking it. So the work was necessary. I wished Sam and his offsider well, and left. On the way back I took the various photos which I posted that other day.
When I got home and put my feet up, for a moment or two, a Leech emerged from my shoe. Damned thing. It was not very full, and I was not sure if it had attached itself (wishful thinking, on my part). I knew I was not bleeding from a wound, as can happen if the Leech has been accidentally knocked off. When they have completed feeding they inject a coagulant, to counteract the anticoagulant which they need to keep the blood flowing, while they feed. So, apparently I had been bitten, and then the bite "sealed off".

I knew what this meant. I would start to itch the next day.
Sure enough, about midday the next day, the effect of the pain killer the Leech had injected had worn off. They inject this pain killer so that we do not feel them attaching themselves - so that we are unaware of their presence, and do not disturb them until they have drunk their fill. Clever plan!

Sure enough, my foot started to itch like crazy, and was red, around the area of the bite. I have been applying a cortisone cream, to try and reduce the inflammation, and taking an antihistamine, for the itchiness. Neither is really working - well, they are probably working, but the itch is still driving me nuts.

Oh, well, I figure this is a win for the Leeches, to balance their loss two weeks ago, when I managed to keep them from attaching themselves, and had to be content with wandering across the very finely woven cloth of my knees of my tracksuit trousers.Leeches 1: Denis 1

New Year's Eve - sunset and evening sky

The sun has just started to move back from its southern most point, but on this New Year's Eve sunset, it is still close to its furthest most southerly point in the sky (at the Summer Solstice, 10 days ago).

Do I make myself clear? In winter, the sun does not pass anywhere close to this wonderful old tree, but sets well around to the right (further north). But tonight it was setting, just on the south-western side of the wonderful old Blackwood tree (when viewed from my back deck).
The sky had been clear during the day, but an afternoon sea-mist rolled in and formed a light cloud cover, enough to diffuse the sunset. The clouds sat above the horizon, so as the sun set, it came out more clearly than it had been shining, giving this golden light wash. The presence of the tree in silhouette makes the picture more dramatic.

To understand a bit more about my affection for this tree, you need to understand that I deliberately positioned my house, with this tree in mind. In fact it is blocking out a particularly large and ugly "mansion" which to my eyes is totally unsuited to the Southern Highlands. But in addition to using this old tree as a screen, I love its shape, and in this case, the way it filters the afternoon light from the setting sun.

Just a few minutes later, the sun had sunk into thicker cloud, and while there was still light, the sky changed to this blue and pink picture, just for a few moments. Then the colour faded. I love the way the soft light allows you to see the folds in the valley below, looking over Belmore Falls, towards the Shoalhaven Valley. The tall trees highlighted by the pink sky are along Myra Vale Road, towards Fitzroy Falls (from Robertson).

This image is a compound image, a "panorama". The "stitching" together of the three images is far from perfect, but if you click to enlarge the image, you will get a fair idea of the wider view out over Kangaroo Valley and the far distant Shoalhaven Valley.
The "Blackwood" in the first image is the open-crowned tree in the centre-right of this picture. The "solid" or darker trees (with pointed profiles) on the right hand side of the image, and just to the right of the Blackwood, are Sassafras trees. They grow very densely, and give a solid profile, unlike the Blackwood which grows into a more open crowned tree, as it matures.

Today I celebrated New Year's Eve with a luncheon meal for David and Petra (a visitor from Germany) and Captain Jim (who took me flying yesterday). Good honest plain food, with a roast leg of lamb, baked very slowly on the hooded gas BBQ, baked potatoes (fresh from Kim's vegie garden) and a salad courtesy of the new Fruit Shop in Robertson. (I haven't told you about this, but it is turning out to be a great asset to the village). Today, while I was in there buying the greens and stuff for the salad, and a lady came in and said to the shop owner: "Thank you so much for opening this shop". She speaks for many of us.

I might even start eating more vegetables from now on. If that passes for a New Year's Resolution (and I never make them) then so be it.

Happy New Year, everyone. Especially to Kevin Rudd and the new Australian Government, and hence to all the people of Australia (plus Leo in Nova Scotia, Canada). And to my loyal blogger colleagues, especially Miss Eagle, and Gaye from the Hunter, and David. And nice to meet you, Petra. And a special Happy New Year to George, and Lucy and her kids (George, Meg and Charlotte), Steve and Celeste and Jasper, Judy B. and Greg, Mike and the rest of the people of Robertson.

Summer Solstice - blue sky and clouds

After approximately 3 weeks of cloud, mist, fog, drizzle,
more mist and fog and threatening clouds ----- ------ Robertson has suddenly turned on a warm, mostly sunny day.

And the locals are ducking for cover.

Personally, if this is summer, I'm over it already.

The air is so humid (as the moisture in the soil evaporates out). Even just moving around outside causes one to break out in a sweat.
To the northern hemisphericals who might read this blog, on your cold, longest Midwinter night, I salute you all, with a warming glass of red.

Cheers!!!

To Leo, you have turned the corner. Your Peonies will start their long journey back towards Spring, in about two weeks time.

By the way, last night, I turned off the little room heater which has been on (gently) over the last 3 weeks, not so much to warm the room, but to keep the clothes and furnishings in the house from growing mould. And also to dry off Lena, whose feet, legs and the hair on her belly seemed to be perpetually wet, over the last few weeks.