How close can you come with nature?

This is an encounter that took place in a park, but it’s very typical to have very close friendly encounters with wildlife in this country. It’s also possible to have extremely unfriendly encounters, such as those with sharks, crocs and venomous snakes, but I’ve already talked about our scary encounter with a brown snake in a river in the Northern Territory... So the encounter with a koala taking a stroll, relaxing, posing, or just interacting with us happened in the Koala Conservation Centre in Phillip Island. The walkway literally takes visitors through the gum trees in which live the koalas. I believe the animals are almost domesticated, because with so many visitors, they just climb down onto the suspended walkway. I do not have a picture for another friendly encounter, but while walking on a street in Sydney, very close to the centre, a crimson rosella landed on my head. It didn’t peck or anything, but I am sure it was a bird used to getting food from people, so just tried to see what it could get from me. I almost felt guilty for not stocking up on food for it, but I had nothing to offer, so the rosella flew off afterwards… Kangaroos and wallabies often lie down or graze close to the walkways of national parks and as long as you don’t approach them, they continue their activities while keeping an eye on you. This richness and the closeness with wildlife are unique to Australia and deeply touch my heart.

Another Personal Post (The Poetry of Moving)

So how does it feel to change countries? Not once, but twice. Does it matter what countries? A lot. Changing countries is like going through an earthquake so strong, it remodels the landscape, it shakes your deepest nerves, and the aftershocks of all kinds stay with you for a very long time. When I say remodeling the landscape I’m thinking of ten kinds of parrots eating birdseed every day in front of your window. I am also thinking of the week-ends when you lay down on a gorgeous beach where only a few other people and kangaroos visit. The hurricane that became a cyclone, the spelling of mom that changed to mum. How the move shakes your deepest nerves is by emailing every day the friends and family left behind, far, far away, just to maintain an illusory closeness, by driving on the wrong side of the street and through roundabouts, and by relearning the school system, the healthcare system and internet access. Aftershocks? They are the moments you go visit the other countries and meet a much older mother than only two years ago, or the moments you visit another country and feel like you never left those places because even when you are far, far away, you’re still reliving them in your mind almost every day. But the wind blows in your life and you get carried away like the fluff of a dandelion, you change countries again because you are curious to live there, or you got a better job, or you just cannot stop changing countries anymore… You plant a passion fruit, a hydrangea, a grevillea, and a lily-of-the-valley, and as much as you love them, they are the only things related to you that grow roots. Together with the new friends that you made and you cannot take with you if you move again…

Melbourne Cup

Melbournians call it “the race that stops a nation,” and the definition is very close to the truth. I have a day off, so I do no work whereas the horses do it all. The first Tuesday in November, every year since 1861, is the biggest sporting, social and cultural event in Australia, the Melbourne Cup. The event revolves around the horse races, but it has a social side, a fashion-loaded aura and a typical Aussie flavor. People celebrate summer, have a picnic, and again, they relax… Not to forget the betting and the drinking. Phew… I recommend you never look at the after-race pictures, because so many people waste themselves and trash the Flemington grounds that photographers capture this after show with dark enthusiasm. The things I like about this event are to watch the hats and fascinators and the big race. I also appreciate the beauty of the venue, Flemington Racecourse in Melbourne, and its British elegance, especially because the track is a superb green lawn, not a dirt track like in Santa Anita, California (the only other horse race I have ever watched). I attached a picture of a different kind of horse, which will calmly continue to graze today and sweetly posed for me somewhere in the Yarra Valley.

Hard Work (!?!)

Here are three stories from my daily life in Oz. Story #1. Months ago a storm knocked down a part of our fence. It is an old fence. Our landlord didn't rush to fix it or to replace the broken area of the fence, but eventually, he had to. This past Tuesday, someone dropped off timber for a new fence in front of the yard. They just threw it carelessly on the lawn next to the footpath. On Wednesday, someone came and removed the old fence. On Thursday, nobody came because there were showers in the morning. On Friday morning at 7AM someone came and cut some vegetation that was obstructing the fence building in the back. They threw tree branches and trunks over the lawn, as if they hated my garden, knocking off some of our plants. I don't know... Are they waiting for me to clean the mess? If its their job and I'm just the tenant, why should I clean up? Story #2. I went to one of the few Post Offices open on a Saturday morning. The line extended outside, and two people in front of me were sipping coffee calmly. I read lots of Jamie Oliver recipes from his latest book, which The Post (that's what they call the Post Office here) sells for $50 ($27 on Amazon.com). This line is common sight on a Saturday morning, because the Post is open only from 9 to 5 during the week and most are closed on week-ends. Story #3. The real state company that manages our property for its actual owner is supposed to fix everything around our house (rental). For the last three weeks I emailed and called once a week asking them to do number of jobs, all common sense, such a trimming the trees that are growing over the Hills Hoist, repair the light fixture that cannot hold light bulbs in one bathroom, etc, but they don't respond to my emails and when I call, they rush to hang up on me as soon as they hear that I have PROBLEMS. What do all these stories have in common? I am guessing the lack of desire to work hard. And much more... Unrelated, but a favorite of mine, today's picture shows an Australian eagle. Tiziano took the picture in the Flinders Ranges, when we didn't know where to look first, at the magnificent landscape or the surprises in the sky...

Figs Again… (sigh)

I never thought I’d be writing a blog about the price of figs… I wrote one about the little wasp that lives inside the fruit and whose lifecycle miraculously matches that of the figs. I wrote also about the fig in my garden that is in full activity in spring and summer (September to March). But now I must write about the price of the first figs to appear in the stores. This is because lately I lost control of my shock at my gas bill, the car tyres and … many other things I haven’t written about in this blog. Things like food, houses, cars and make-up. Coffee, toll roads and tennis racquet stringing… Anyway, today I’m in awe, my vision is blurred (thus the shaky picture) and I’m speechless (luckily this post is written). One kilogram of figs in a regular (not fancy, not organic, not home-grown) fruit & vege store is $50. Fifty. Or $25/lb. Of course I haven’t bought any, although I was tempted to buy three figs, one for each member of the family and see how much would be the price of one. Cheaper or more expensive than the $3.20 I pay for an espresso? I don’t live in the fanciest area of Melbourne, my suburb is far from being the richest, and meat disappears faster than fruit and vege from the shelves of my local supermarket. I am tempted to visit this little fruit & vege store every day and ask if the figs are on sale. Is this because there is barely any consumer protection in Oz? Or because the store owner has to pay his own huge gas and electricity bills? Or is it because water sources are scarce here? This can’t be true. The figs in my garden are not dried up. I guess I need to buy a good tree cover, throw it over my fig tree so birds, bats and possums don’t eat the fruit before I get to it, and wait until I have my own figs, free and sweet! And I can donate to charity all the money I would have irrationally spent on figs this spring…

Popping In, On and Out

Aussies love the “pop.” Not as in pop music, I am not sure about that, but the frequency of usage for the word pop is overwhelming. The doctor says, “Pop in this gown” or “Pop your tongue out.” The gardener advises, “Pop these bulbs into the soil in a sunny spot,” or “Pop your gloves on before digging into soil.” The mechanic squeaks, “Pop out of your car and turn off the engine.” The teacher screams “Pop your hats onto your heads when it’s sunny out!” My boss invites me, “Pop into my office when you’re ready to meet.” As you see in the picture, the sunflower popped its head out into the sun, too!

The Mighty Australian Sun

Oz is rich in many things, including beaches and sunny days. I talked before about the Aussie sky, which is intensely blue, more than I have ever seen it from any other part of the world. The sun also has features I have never felt before. The most impressive is power. By this I mean that even in the winter, if the sun comes out and you’re simply basking, it will burn you. It feels as if the sun makes holes in your skin, and ashes fly off from your scorched body... I believe this has to do with the ozone hole so generously spreading over most parts of Antarctica and this continent. Ozone blocks the harmful rays, and without it, nothing else diminishes their power. Directly related to this is the high incidence of melanoma, the skin cancer everyone who ever went sunbathing should worry about. Of course, most Aussies being of British or Irish descent, their skin is white and burns easily, so the fair skin persons are at much higher risk. If they live in the sunny center or the North, they are more exposed to the sun and thus to the risk of melanoma. The weather forecast is always accompanied by the UV levels and rarely they are lower than “extreme” for most of the day from spring well into the fall. The good news, from a few days ago, is that the ozone hole is shrinking and by mid-century it should be back to where it had been in the nineteen eighties. So living in Oz means enjoying the sun while fearing its power and respecting its effect.