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ACT National Arboretum Canberra a Tribute to Nature.

Aboretum panorama 1.

Arboretum panorama 1.

These views show the immensity of this project it is far from established. Even at this stage it is well worth visiting. The work is still in progress for people and Mother Nature to complete the work. Nature is unmatched, by man’s hand and she cannot be rushed. I would like to see the forests when they are established in ten; twenty or thirty years (I will have to be lucky) The people who have dreamed up this whole project are  impressive artists in many fields. But like the poem by Joyce Kilmer.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

There are two exceptional sculptures and spectacular architecture.

 The sculpture is a tribute to Dorothea Mackellar and her poem, My Country. The start of this poem is appropriate to Pauline and I. To get a more comprehensive idea of the area and history hit this link to Pauline’s post. I am more interested in the sculpture and the tribute to Mother Nature.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

The wide brown land sculpture that can be seen from many vantage points, the words are in Dorothea Mackellar’s hand writing. To me it is not a small achievement, it was a combined effort of skilled artist and craftsmen.  Imagine the marking out of the steel plates, the forming and welding the grinding and smoothing and the shifting into place.

 The Village Centre houses the Bonsai and Penjing collection and many other things of interest.

We walked into an established forest area and smelled barbeque cooking.  There was a man cooking at a powered barbeque and a lady. Click went my camera I like photos of people enjoying life.

I spoke to the man “I just took a photo of you and your lady she looked so at peace.”

“My wife is praying.”

“That’s nice I follow the Buddha’s path and meditate.”

“It is all good.” He replied.

“Enjoy. “were my parting word.

I thought what a nice couple appreciating nature in the peaceful forest, nature’s cathedral or mosque. As he said all is good. The wide brown land is a multinational land where people are generally accepting and respectful of each other’s customs and this enhances life with the different foods and a variety of dress.

Dorothea Mackellar was in London when she wrote the poem My Country. I often recalled the poem when I was working in New Zealand. New Zealand is a wonderful country but there is no place like home.

 

My Country.

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

Natures art.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,

The Kiss.

The Kiss.

And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold –
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown countryArboretum JC
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea Mackellar

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View at bus stop Mt Nelson.

View at bus stop Mt Nelson.

Go Before You Go.

Mt Nelson Signal Station.

Mt Nelson Signal Station.

You have to go but you do have a choice as to how you go; I am going by bus today, I bought a day pass. There is no need to make elaborate plans just get on the bus, head into Hobart town centre and take it from there.

View from the teamooms.

View from the tea rooms.

I went into the information centre and asked the lady what she thought would be a good place to go to on the metro bus. She said Mt Nelson Signal Station. I walked over the road to the Metro Bus Office to get a bus time table.

Zoomed from the tea rooms.

Zoomed from the tea rooms.

The buses are hourly so this allowed me time for a walk to see what would open up for me. I took a few photos and got a multigrain bun and chose a vegetarian filling. I like avocado instead of butter and no salt there is enough salt in the bread. I picked a pure orange drink from the fridge. With fuel for the day in the bag it is off on the bus, all uphill.

Looking to bellerive.

Looking to Bellerive.

I go with the flow and water does not flow uphill unless it is carried. I am in no real hurry to wear myself out and this climb would be pushing it a bit for a man on a seniors bus pass.

Panaramic views and a beautiful day.

Panoramic views and a beautiful day.

The photos will give you an idea of the views but it would even be beyond the capabilities of National Geographical magazine to do the area justice. What a mighty day, I am dressed like I was up in warm Queensland. In my bag is a rain jacket my fur hat, scarf and my pure wool swan dry jacket as insurance. I believe I am a lucky person but I try not to push my luck. To take any thing in life for granted is inviting trouble.

A great place for a picnic.

A great place for a picnic.

A tree looked at me. I took a portrait photo of it and looked to see if its neighbors had anything to say, yes the trees were talking to me.

Does this tree speak to you?

Does this tree speak to you?

I do not only talk to the animals I communicate with everything. A flower can tell me more about beauty than an art gallery, nature is unsurpassed. Man can never come close to matching nature wonders.

Tasman Bridge can be seen in a pool of sunlight.

Tasman Bridge can be seen in a pool of sunlight.

Everything man achieves and invents is only a copy of nature. We may think we are changing the environment for the better but everything in nature is interrelated and in balance. There is always repercussions that should be considered.

My friendly guid.

My friendly guide.

I think it is a good time for lunch, or should I walk to Sandy Bay? A lady with a cute dog walks by, I give her a smile and ask her is it far to walk to Sandy Bay and if I follow the road will I get lost. She tells me there is a track through the bush that is shorter and much nicer.

It is a beautiful walking track.

It is a beautiful walking track.

We head off together, she is good company, she tells me she is a physiotherapist and I burble on about what I used to do for a living. She turns off a side path to her house and warns me it gets a bit rougher further on but there is a place I can leave the track and get on the road.

We say good by. I hope she likes this post.

We say goodbye. I hope she likes this post.

I am enjoying this bush walk so decide to keep to the track. The going gets steeper, uneven rock steps.

Just take it steady enjoy the views.

Just take it steady enjoy the views.

There was a time I would have run down them but today I find a strong stick to help me. Another wooden seat, now is a good time to have lunch.

Great 1-30 Lunch stop.

Great 1-30 Lunch stop.

Refreshed I head on across a bridge over a gurgling stream, what a nice sound.

Moss covered rocks below the bridge.

Moss covered rocks below the bridge.

The path flattens out to a gentle slope and is a pleasant walk the rest of the way. The bus stop is near a lawn covered in autumn leaves. Just time to take a photo and here is the bus.

By the bus stop.

By the bus stop.

Back in town I visit the park guarded by the lions salvaged from an old bank.

Lions gard Autumn gold instead of bank.

Lions gard Autumn gold instead of bank.

The autumn leaves are a blaze they are impossible to capture with my camera.

Natures Gold.

Natures Gold.

My attempt fails miserably; you will have to use your imagination.

A multi coloured leaves.

 Multi coloured leaves.

Windows are easier subjects. I am taking some photos of windows inspired by a blog you will find at  <http;//thedayafter.wordpress.com >

Reflection on windows.

Reflection on windows.

Going to the Bellerive bus stop I pass through the paved Mall. I see the beautifully carved wooden dog I have taken a liking to.

Do not get mauled by the Mall dog.

Do not get mauled by the Mall dog.

It has been a wonderful day, time for one photo then home. I am pleased I went and did not miss the opportunity. We have to go before we go. One day we will go back into this world we came out of, we have no choice. We do have a choice as to how we go and it is better to wear out than rust out.

Looking at Mt Wellington from the track.

Looking at Mt Wellington from the track.

 

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