WoodenSpoon

Since I started my Apprenticeship (farm studies, majoring in applied ecology and construction jobs of all descriptions) I’ve begun to feel a strange compulsion, nearly as strong as the attraction of female flesh that beset me at adolescence. And like puberty, it has been a lonely period of self-doubt, shame and finally acceptance and rejoicing. Now I feel confident enough to come out and say that I have become a connoisseur of fences. I find it hard to keep my attaention on the road as I drive through the country admiring the firm, perky lines of a fresh young fence, the timber not yet bleached to grey by the sun, wire taut as a violin string; or a stately old hand-made post and rail bulwark possibly 100 years old, lopsided in places but still holding strong, defiantly resisting the ravages of tiem and termite.

Like cars, once you get your eye in, the variety of styles and designs begs to be catalogued, so here is the first of perhaps more than a few extracts from my new but growing collection of fence photos.

In this one, a round gatepost is stayed against the strain of the wire fence by a horizontal beam and a tensioned diagonal wire. Notice how grooves have been cut in the posts by chainsaw to guide and hold the wire. It is perhaps a little overengineered but that is a hallmark of the hand of Simon Stenhouse.

A nice round post strainer assembly, Deua river, downstream of Araluen NSW

Wandered around Sawpit creek yesterday.

Had the pleasure to bump into a Regent Bowerbird and fleetingly glimpse, if not hear, a catbird. There were many other birds around - too many to mention.

And the fairly-good fortune to only lightly graze a lurking Stinging Tree with one finger. Later I had a chance to test the old bush remedy by rubbing the sap of a Cunjevoi on it. It seemed to work.

We found some fresh Black apple fruits and some Brown pine seeds germinating by the creek. The Black apple apparently makes great jam. The ones I tasted were a bit floury in texture but had a lovely subtlle rose-water type of taste. I had to be a bit selective; many of the older fruits were well maggoted.

And, walking back through an open field, we came upon a Plover nest:

Gazing out the window this morning at breakfast, I noticed a bit of activity on a hillside down the valley.

Here is a photo from the verandah. Don’t mind the frost-bitten coral tree in the foreground. Look at the bare ridges in the far distance.

 Can’t see anything?

Here’s a closer view.

 Still can’t see anything? Well neither could I. There was just a faint impression of movement on the ridge. Something yellow.

We happened to have a telescope set up on a tripod so we could look at the water level in the cattle trough. I trained it on the distant ridge and this is what I saw. A digger working its way up the ridge, drilling holes as it went. I took the photo by simply holding the camera up to the eyepiece of the telescope.

Quite a few of the less productive ridges in the area are being planted out to trees. I suppose over time we’ll see those bare ridges turn green.

I’ve been wearing an old wide-brimmed “cricket hat” and while it has sufficed in this pale winter sunlight, I’ve been planning to move up to a better class of thermonuclear protection.

So here it is, an Akubra Cattleman. At least the cattle will show some respect from now on.