Mystery Eucalypt No More?

Now that we have flowers to examine, it appears that the towering, pale-barked eucalyptus in our front yard is actually a Eucalyptus regnans (aka Mountain Ash, Victorian Ash, Swamp Gum etc), tallest of the eucalypts (and tallest of all flowering plants), and possibly the tallest of all plants.

Mountain Ash live for at least four hundred years and grow, when young, at a rate of about one metre per year. In the 1850s, G. W. Robinson arranged with loggers in the Dandenong Ranges to notify him when they found a very tall tree: every one he measured exceeded 91 metres, the tallest being 104 metres. Since the tallest trees were felled first it is likely that some of the Mountain Ash in this area stood at over 120 metres high.

So, at about forty metres, ours is obviously only a young specimen—which is why the area of rough basal bark is so small, and why we had so much trouble identifying it (that and the fact we hadn't seen a flower or gumnut spray). And, given the growth rate, it appears that the tree was planted, or sprung up from the earth at about the time the house was built.

It is amazing to think that in another forty years our Mountain Ash will look like the beauties up the road in Sherbrooke Forest!

City of the Damned

Here are two photos of the termite city after it has had three days to dry out. What you can't see is the way in which it is gradually crumbling into corn-flake-sized pieces and dust.

Running with Wallabies

Kevin Kostner eat your heart out! I get to run with Wallabies (late last year I got to run with the Storm boys on the thousand steps ner ner ner ner).

I set out yesterday in the rain to do hill training in preparation for City To Surf later this year.

Running running running along, out of the corner of my eye a whip of something long - tail! Bugger the run, what the hell... in the bushes alongside the track she stared at me and I stared at her. Little chocolate brown ears twitched as we wondered who was going to run away first. Well I did, the little swamp wallaby's thick coat would have kept her warm but my fingers were tingling with cold.

This is such a cool place to live!

Destructive But Beautiful

Chopping firewood is such satisfyingly blunt work. It appeals to the he-man in me who likes action and not words. But even my inner he-man felt a wave of emotion as I clonked this massive bit of dead treee in half.

The inner circle was fabulously fragile evidence of termite work (breathe P breathe...). The latice work is so delicate I had to record it. I understand how artists like William Morris were inspired by the patterns of nature.

 Close up the wet mass is paper thin and layered endlessly into a neat ball.

It is a challenge to do it justice. It looks like mud with the misty sheen of rain on it but it is brittle.

The underside is damaged and reveals the delicate work of the termites in full glory.

[UPDATE 30 May 2011: See here for photos of this termite city after it had dried out]

Brittened & brent to brondez & askez

Rather than the city of Troy being "brittened & brent to brondez & askez" (broken and burnt to brands and ashes)—as it is in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight—here it is vermiculated gum-tree branches (as below) that are being broken up and burnt to coals and ashes …

… much to the delight of Metti aka Sekhmet the Great, Eye of Ra, Beloved of Bast, Lady of Darkness, Destroyer By Fire, Burner of Evildoers [**], She Whose Opportunity Escapeth Her Not. And, um, the rest of us.

[** termites and other vermin]

Misty Morning Revisited**

[The Monster Gum silhouetted behind the house, just before the dead ivy etc was removed from it. NB also the many plant guards, thanks J & M!]

[M's repair-work on the stone walls, and weed-matting above]

[a spider's web on the owl-branch (the favourite observation point of a local owl, which we haven't identified yet)]

[Hammer House of Horror-style webbing on the dead plumb tree (soon to be replaced with three Swamp Gums)]

[a cocoon of webbing on the Cedrus deodara, which will also be removed, eventually, but only once the Swamp Gums get a wriggle-on]

[**For my previous misty-morning post, see here]

May Eve in the Dandenong Ranges

[sunrise on May Eve]

I had an email from someone in Sweden this morning who was about to head out to celebrate Walpurgis Night, or Valborg as it is called there. As it happens, we celebrated Walpurgis Night too, with a bonfire, some cider, baked vegies and apples. But, while it is May-eve here in Melbourne, as it is in Sweden, seasonally it is southern-Samhain, All Hallows Eve, or Halloween, thus the late-season vegies etc. We save the plastic pumpkins and glow-in-the dark skeletons for 31 October!

The bonfire was both utile and dulci: we had a tree-lopper in on Friday to fell the dead tree over-hanging the drive at the front and to clear the dead limbs out of the monster gum behind the house. We now have a winter's worth of firewood, no matter how cold it gets!

[NB: the tree was felled perfectly, at 90 degrees to the angle it was leaning, within a 3m gap between trees, and slightly up-hill so it wouldn't roll. And it was all done with one rope and in about five minutes!]

While he was working on the gum in the back he stripped out of it all the dead ivy that was beyond our reach, so we had a vast pile of tinder-dry kindling littered all over the place, and assorted lengths of well-and-truly rotten limbs. (Full of ants and other goodies that the magpies loved, they spent most of Friday snapping up any insect that moved!)

I broke up two bins full of the ivy for the Canara, but the rest, well the rest was appropriate only for either:

burning off for legitimate fire reduction purposes and burning off to reduce the level of fuel that would feed bushfires.

And, since we are in a "Residential Bushland" zone, it was the right day of the week, and the weather was perfect for it, we had a bonfire in accordance with The Shire of Yarra Ranges Open Air Burning Local Law of 2008. (I.e., all very utile and legitimate.)

Of course, the purpose of The Shire of Yarra Ranges Open Air Burning Local Law of 2008 is to remove any suggestion of dulci, but it was fun. We resisted the urge to set fire to our or any nearby houses and run naked around the flames, but we fed as much ivy and dead wood into the flames as we safely could by 6PM (in accordance with the aforesaid law).

The upshot is that the gum looks lovely—like somebody cares for it (and for their own safety)—and the back garden is ready for the new witchy year, which starts today. I have about six months to build, fill and fill with plants three or four vegie boxes and a herb garden: I am ready to start, I have the plans and most of the equipment to get started, and I am looking forward to it.

M. has already started on her part of the garden, but she has a bit of deck, duck-boards and a path to construct over winter, as well as remove the last of the weeds and more planting to do, so she will be busy too. And, of course, Ted is always busy.