Frost: the case of the survival of the fittest

There's something very cleansing about of frost, especially six in a row. This sequence has occurred in Mitchell over the past week, with -4.9°C yesterday and -4.2°C this morning. The weather bureau predicts at least two more frosts this week. I like to think of the below 0°C temperatures sterilising the soil, killing parasites, bacteria and many of the pests that attack garden plants and pastures grazed by sheep and cattle.

This morning, Major licked and then nose-butted a sheet of 10 mm thick ice that had formed in his water bowl. And then, in the joy of the moment, he grabbed a chunk of ice in his mouth and bounded across the frosted grass, challenging Del to chase him. Which she did!

On my walk this afternoon, the grass was brittle dry and crunched underfoot. The earth was so dry, every step raised a little puff of dust.

Here in outback Queensland I have succulents that are remarkably hardy. They survive frost and extreme dryness throughout winter; and then during summer, rain and extreme heat. On the other hand, the recent frosts have either killed or badly damaged several plants in our garden, including the geisha girl shown in the photo. Yet, Doug's lettuces, spinach, cabbages and broccoli are thriving.

What I love about frosty mornings in outback Queensland is that they are followed by still sunny days.

Mitchell getting ready for the Landmark Art Show

The annual Landmark Art Show is now in its 12th year and promises to be better than ever. Held at the Mitchell on Maranoa Gallery (at the rear of the library), this exhibition of art, photography, sculpture and jewellery show-cases local and interstate talent.

Consequently, enthusiastic participants are busy finishing off their exhibits. Entries close on 15 July, with the opening on 29 July.

This year Doug and I are participating: me with a photo and several water colour drawings of plants; and Doug with photos, Yowah opal pendants and a goanna sculpture. The attached photo shows Doug framing one of our entries.

I believe that the true value of a local exhibition such as this lies in the fact that it motivates and inspires people to 'have a go' in the field of creative arts -- at a grassroots level.

Often, when I talk to travellers from 'away', they comment that the arts appear alive and well in the outback, and especially in Mitchell. And I agree, wholeheartedly.

Burls, angophoras and red dirt country

I didn't know what a burl was, until we came to live in Mitchell -- in outback Australia. Soon I was to learn that a burl is an unusual growth on a tree trunk or branch, caused by an injury to the limb.

For trees growing alongside the Maranoa River, the injury is usually caused during floods, when logs, propelled by a mighty force of water, crash into trees.

Brian Waldron is a collector of burls and has an enviable collection stacked neatly in his shed. Brian uses the burls to create bowls, ornamental clock mounts, pens, house signs and many other artistic pieces. Last year Doug asked Brian to make me a bowl from an ooline burl, as a birthday present. It's a beautiful centrepiece for our table.

Last week, after a 30 minute drive north of Mitchell, we stopped on a stony hillside of remarkable vegetation that included this angophora with a burl on its trunk. The tree looks ancient, and with its creamy-coloured bark and its roots thrust deeply into red earth, it looks as if it'll live forever. I hope it does.

Sometimes called a smooth-barked apple, this tree's botanical name is Angophora leiocarpa.

With 'Robins Double Life' complete, I sit and meditate

For four years, I've been working on my book 'Robins Double Life' and today it's finished. I don't know if I'm happy or not! It's a strange sensation to finish a book. It gives a feeling of relief, and a degree of satisfaction -- yet also a sense of loss. What next? Although I know the answer to that question (I want to write a book about St Francis of Assisi and his gift with animals), and I'm enthusiastic about the project, I'll need to get my mind into a difference space.

Therefore, to sit on this beautifully designed seat overlooking the Maranoa River, the bridge and river red gums gave me the opportunity to relax and meditate on how I will publish Robins Double Life as an e-book, and then when I will begin work on on my book about Saint Francis.

Many of the artistic touches built around the small township of Mitchell reflect the river. You will see in the photo that the seat meanders in shape, much like the river that winds around its human population, in a protective loop. The Maranoa is an inspiration.

Fisherman's Rest is Outback Queensland at its best

Located only 5 km west of Mitchell, Fisherman's Rest is a tranquil place where people can free-camp, picnic or go fishing. River red gums line the river and dot a generous sized area of cut grass. As Fisherman's Rest is upstream from the Neil Turner Weir, the Maranoa River is wider here.

When we arrived today and let the dogs out of the Ute, Major rushed straight into the water and swam out strongly to retrieve a stick. Del was happier paddling in the shallows.

For our lunch we took a saucepan full of pumpkin soup and heated it on a small gas stove. Sitting in the dappled shade of a river red gum, and gazing out on the glittering water, it was easy to slip into peaceful state where all seemed well in the world at large.

The water at Fishermen's Rest holds a large amount of silt which became very obvious as Major's coat dried, back home on the verandah. After a couple of hours, an amazing quantity of silt dropped from his coat, which is a heavy one. A vigorous brush removed even more.

I'm hoping that now he's inside on the carpet, there won't be any more silt. Tonight we are expecting -2°C, followed by a warm sunny day.

Growing Australian trees from seed

Growing Australian trees from seed is something Doug and I have done for years. It's also the subject of one of my books 'From Seeds To Leaves' published by Black Inc, in Melbourne.

When I heard that oolines could be grown from seed and that Heather Bowen had established an ooline grove, I knew I had to meet Heather. And so I did. Since that meeting, five years ago, we've become close friends.

Last summer Doug and Heather had a friendly competition to see who could grow the best oolines. Heather won. Our excuse is that the oolines we propagated from seed didn't like spending the summer at Phillip Island. It was far too cold, the young trees said. It was too cold for me also! Only one of our young ooline trees survived the summer down south.

The bush garden surrounding Heather and Bob's home has a special area devoted to 23 young ooline trees grown by Heather from seed she collected herself from trees on their property. Now about 10 years old, the trees are most certainly an ooline grove.

An ancient ooline forest in outback Queensland

One of life's greatest pleasures is to wander through an unspoiled wilderness -- and to share the experience with a close friend.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon with Heather at their cattle property, located about half an hour west of Mitchell. The hills on the property are home to rare stands of ooline (Cadellia pentastylis); Gondwanan rainforest trees dating back to the Age of Dinosaurs.

As Heather and I climbed the dry stony hills, we didn't follow a defined track, but rather scrambled from one 'roo track to another. This meant that the country we saw was new to Heather and as well as to me. There was no wind, just a balmy 26°C. We could neither see nor hear any sign of other humans.

High up on the slope we discovered an unusual knotted branch perched on an ancient ooline tree. Gazing into its twists and curves we saw eyes, a nose and a smiling mouth. Our own special ooline spirit gazed down at us! It was an exciting find.

High up in the treetops and illuminated by late afternoon sunshine, Heather pointed out clusters of cream-coloured flowers that belong to a vine. Then, to cap off the afternoon, I noticed an unusual cream-coloured stone nestled in a dry rocky gully. I saw two pieces close together, and upon picking them up, found they fitted together perfectly, to form a perfect sphere-- like an egg. Placing them carefully in my pocket I brought them home, where I hope the mystery of how it was formed will eventually be revealed.

The magic of this ancient place is that it takes you beyond yourself, to a place where living in the moment is so rich there is no room for anything else. So great was our sense of contentment that we felt we could stay up in the hills for ever.