Signs of spring

Earlier this week I saw my first clutch of ducklings down at our dam. For a while now the wood ducks have been here feeding on the lush pasture, splashing and swimming in the dam and disappearing into the bush to check out their nest hollows in the karri and marri trees. Occasionally one gives a rousing strident call from high in a tree and I often wonder if it is a call to the newly hatched babies to 'jump' and freefall to the ground. I continue to be amazed they survive it - but of course they do.

I've no idea where they take their clutch of tiny fluffy ducklings in the evenings. But one often sees the pair of adults leading them uphill away from the water to a safe hidey-hole where the foxes hopefully won't find them.Inexperienced parents often lose their entire clutch, but sometimes they learn quickly enough to save the   last two or three and raise them successfully. At the end of the season old hands will  be seen leading a dozen or so fully grown duck teenagers on the rounds of the dams and paddocks in our little valley.

As I type this, outside I can hear the beautiful trill of the inland thornbill, a tiny bird with a richness of sound that belies it's size. Yesterday one was calling from a potted magnolia in my herb garden beside our verandah. Beautiful.

Punda petroglyphs

Here are some more images from the Punda rock art site. As the crow flies it is not a long distance from the Wanna Munna site, but by car the route is very circuitous. I have adjusted the images into monochrome to increase the visibility of the petroglyphs.

It is a site that is fantastically rich in imagery and I am so glad we were able to revisit there. 

There were plenty of birds there too making the most of the spring water at the base of the rocky hillside. Here is a fraction of a flock of budgies wheeling in the sky.

Behind the hill, growing beside the water were some tall creamy trunked trees that I couldn't ignore. 

Punda heart

We went back to Punda Pool on our way home 'cause we loved it so much. And yes, our solar shower was still swinging in the breeze from the giant river gum.

I learnt from this - don't let cold water stop you from placing the rocks in the right place right from the beginning - and reflections don't move in the water as the sun goes down - just the colours change - it seems obvious now - but I didn't want to get cold and wet at first - so I built it in the wrong spot - it was a bit of fun though.

Wanna Munna

On the subject of artworks, here is a slip back to our time in the Pilbara. We called in to Wanna Munna which is about 75km out of Newman and relatively close to the main road. It is an Aboriginal rock art site straddling a water hole. Unfortunately there is a bit of graffiti at this site, probably because it is so close to the main road to Port Hedland. However I won't give electronic space to the graffitist efforts.

Wanna Munna boomerangs

Just to put the site in context here are two images looking upstream, where the majority of work is to be seen, and downstream where there is a beautiful jumble of rocks in the river bed.

Wanna Munna main pool upstream

Wanna Munna looking down stream

Some of the images picked on the rocks were very faint, and in places layered one on another. Presumably some of them are very ancient but again I can find little information about them. There were images of emus, kangaroos, spotted cats, figures - people?and boomerangs. It requires a high degree of skill to chip out such simple, elegant and true likenesses from hard and unforgiving granite boulders.

Wanna Munna rock art

Wanna Munna rock art emu and kangaroo

There were many birds here too - zebra finches, budgies, white naped honey eaters, mudlarks, corellas, willy wagtail amongst others. A large bird of prey flew in, a whistling kite, and off went all the other little birds.

Wanna Munna rock art figure

To finish here is an image of a tree that has defied the odds growing in a rocky crevice. They amaze me how they manage to do it.

Desert storm

Looking at Kudditji Kngwarreye's paintings of the wet season yesterday reminded me of our experience in the Northern territory a couple of years ago. We had driven across the to the 'red centre' to experience Uluru and Kata Tjuta amongst other places. In conversation we'd remarked how fantastic it would be to experience the rocks in the rain, water pouring off, stormy clouds and all. Unlikely, as it doesn't rain out there very often. On our way back we camped outside the park on the WA side in a small depression in the bush. We were woken in the early hours of the morning by rolling thunder, spectacular flashes of lightning all around us, and then rain. We packed up in the dark, not wanting to be stuck in the mud on dirt roads next morning and slowly headed back to the bitumen parking area at Kata Tjuta where we knew we'd be safe.

The early morning light was heralded by the call of the chiming wedgebill. Cloud and mist swirled over the dark red domes of Kata Tjuta through the drizzly rain. We jumped puddles and huddled under an umbrella taking photos. It was cold and windy but oh so exciting. It was nothing short of spectacular. Rain, multi-tiered waterfalls on the rocks, running streams, mist appearing and disappearing on the domes. Wet conglomerate rich in colour and texture with soft light glimmering off it.

Desert colourists

While up in Perth last week I managed to catch the exhibition at Japinka Gallery in Fremantle where works by Lorna Napurrula Fencer and Kudditji Kngwarreye were being shown. The exhibition continues till 12 September 2012.

Kudditji Kngwarreye My Country - Fire Series 120x90cm

They are mostly quite large works best viewed in natural light, I believe, perhaps because they were originally created out in strong inland sunlight. Anyway the colours always seem to sing when the sunlight streams in through the windows of the gallery.

Lorna Napurrula Fencer Yarla Jukurrpa - Bush Yam Dreaming 183x138cm

Lorna Napurrula Fencer was born in about 1923 at Yartulu Yartulu  and died in 2006. She was a custodian of the Dreamings associated with Yumurrpa in the region of the Tanami Desert and of bush potato (yarla), caterpillar (luju) , water and others foods.

Lorna Napurrula Fencer Spring water at Yumurrpa 214x138cm

Kuddiitji Kngwarreye was born in about 1928 at Alhalkere in Utopia north east of Alice Springs. His language group is Eastern Anmatyerre and he is the younger brother of the well known Emily Kame Kngwarreye. He is a custodian of the Dreamings associated with Men's Ceremonial sites from Boundary Bore and for Emu Dreaming. Both artists began painting on canvas in the 1980's.

Kudditji Kngwarreye My Country - Rainy season 150x120cm

I can really feel that strong shaft of sunlight in the stormy weather highlighting the red dirt and bouncing off the sheets of water. Even on the cloudiest of days the red colour is ever present.

Kudditji Kngwarreye My Country 150x120cm

After the rains of course the country springs to life. The vegetation greens up, masses of ephemerals begin flowering, and the country changes colour. This is the time for caterpillars to hatch and grow while there is plenty to eat.

Lorna Napurrula Fencer Yirrirlparti Jukurrpa - Caterpillar dreaming 214x138cm

Link to Japinka Gallery here. All images are from Japinka Gallery.

Flutter, flutter, bump

In the first light of the morning we woke to the sounds of flutter flutter bump, flutter flutter bump,
...  flutter flutter ...  'Sounds like an old lady moth bumping against the ceiling, trying to get out'.

But it's the wrong time of the year for that. Flutter flutter bump. 

It was a female blue wren attacking her reflection in the window, fluttering up and down in sync with her alter ego. Flutter flutter bump. She kept on at it till our movement sent her off into the garden. Minutes later she was back at the next window, chasing her reflection up and down the glass. Here you can see her rich chestnut eye mask.

Since we came back from our holidays, one of the first things we did was give all the windows a good clean. Obviously it was enough to spark this new behaviour from the wren. I find it strange that it is the female who is doing the attacking, I would have thought it was the domain of the male, but the males have been fairly circumspect lately. In our garden here we have both the blue wren and the red winged wrens flitting about. I love their voice, I call them our natural canaries. They all trill, males and females, perching high with their throats extended as they sing to the world.

Later in the morning a blue male came in to feed with a group of five other females and youngsters, his feathered coat sheening in the patchy sunlight. They are so delicate and light on their legs as they skip over the ground picking up tiny morsels that only they can see.

In the past I have found their nests hidden deep within the Hakea oleifolia that I planted in our garden. The foliage is suitably prickly and dense, and the shrub high enough, that the wrens can nest there secure from predators.

Port Hedland at random

Port Hedland was a necessary stop to find spare parts for our solar panel regulator which had karked it. All it needed was a couple of diodes but we went from pillar to post looking to find some of the right specifications. We were successful in the end, and so we should have been with all the businesses around servicing the mining industry. Mark had to buy a soldering iron as well to fix the electronics. It is always the way, the one time you decide to leave that tool behind, sure as anything you'll need it, and we did. I think he has about five soldering irons now, different sizes for any job imaginable.

Cabanas out near the 'Yacht Club'

There is a lot of development going on and much has changed since our visit last year. FMG is building enormous structures out towards Finucane and BHP is building another rail line into their port facility. There is a huge reclamation of tidal flats going on out there too, truckloads and truckloads of red dirt had been carted in. 

Part of FMG's new infrastructure 

We had a meal at Port Haven, a mining canteen, which caters for the miners that live there as well as being open to the public. Great meal, plenty of choice and reasonably priced. A local lad gave us the nod about eating there and there were quite a few locals lined up to eat here.  The mining accommodation associated with it looked more like resort accommodation, rather different to the other masses of units that are dotted here and there on the outskirts of town.

Mark's photo of Miske waiting while we take dawn photos of the salt

Rio Tinto Salt works under an indigo sky 

Ore train with the notorious hot briquette plant in the background

With all this talk of trains I thought I should at least put in an image or two of them. One morning I was up early, long before sunrise to record the sounds of trains, horses and the blue winged kookaburras. There was a heavy mist, with water dripping steadily off the tree beside our camper and for all my efforts - all I got was bitterly cold and the sound of dripping water.

Empty ore trucks at BHP's facilities by the port 

Mudlarks down by the mangroves

Industrial landscapes

Salt ponds and stockpile 

Port Hedland is a fantastic industrial landscape that dominates any sense of suburbanality. It is all trucks and trains and steel structures and flashing lights and dark ores piles and ships and salt and workers and hums twenty four hours a day.

Part of BHP Billiton's facilities at the port with mangroves in foreground 

This structure and movement rises out of spinifex, samphire and mangrove flats, and is bordered by the sea that creeps in and out of the mangroves with the tides. Red dust infiltrates and stains everything.

Tanks and truck in town

On the road out to Finucane Island

The port is the destination for the inland disappearing hills that reappear as red brown or black stockpiles before disappearing into the bowels of ships that sink lower and lower into the sea, down to the top of the red plimsoll line. The reshaped hills then disappear over the horizon disguised as long low slung ships.

Part of the port that is accessible to the public - ore ships in the background being loaded

We camped at the Port Hedland Golf Club, as all the caravan parks were full and the golf club kindly takes all the overflow. At least there are clean toilets and showers and it is surrounded by low scrub. The hum of industry is interspersed with the unlikely sound of trotting horses training in early hours of the morning well before sunrise. In my photograph you can just see the industrial lights in the background.

Training horses beside the golf club

While in Hedland we visited the Courthouse Gallery, an arm of Form Gallery based in Perth. We particularly enjoyed the works by Futureshelter that were on display.

 The reclaimed reclaimer by Futureshelter

My photograph of reclaimers - they are used to move bulk materials from a stockpile

The works are a series of limited edition multi screen prints which engaged with the industrial landscape and the tradition of engineering drawings. They were created following on from a trip up there from Perth in February where Adam Coffey and Jane King were inspired by the 'extremes in landscape from the raw nature to the giant machines'. Being up there in February would truly be experiencing the extremes of the place, being so hot and humid at that time of the year. I thought the prints beautifully captured the sense of place of Port Hedland. Their website can be found here and the images came from their blog.

Mirror image by Futureshelter

You have to love this cheeky take on the occupational health safety message - beware the chair! Any one who has been on an industrial site these days would understand, compared to the old days when safety was not regulated like it is today. But it does save lives and reduce injuries.

Beware of the chair by Futureshelter