A MISTY WALK IN BLACKHEATH

I rather like misty days, they remind  me of cool flannels being placed on fevered brows. Our property adjoins the Blue Mountains’  National Park and sometimes bushwalkers  become disoriented, blundering  into my garden. I point them in the direction of Govett’s Leap, with a gentle warning to take care.

Govett's Leap

From the lookout.

 

Gums in the mist at Blackheath

Twin gums in the mist at the crossroads. No wonder people get confused.

I went for  walk up to the village yesterday, when it was so misty I could only see a few metres. The duck pond was barely visible. Not a single wood duck on the water.

 

A murky duckpond at Blackheath.

A murky duckpond at Blackheath.

Memorial Park was pretty well deserted.

 

 

The kookaburras were sitting lower down on the cherry tree branches, looking for a meal through the fog.

 

Kookaburra in the mist.

Kooka in the mist.

The main purpose of my walk was to check on Mr  Satin Bowerbird’s  impressive bower, up by the top gates.

Great spot for a satin bowerbird's bower.

He’s in there somewhere

He was still busy, but it seemed the ladies had stayed home. Moisture laden air is never good for one’s coiffure.

 

Satin bowerbird in the mist

 

After  a very dry winter the  mist was refreshing  lichens and mosses on tree trunks and bare branches. So beautiful.

 

Moss and lichen

Moss and lichen enjoying the moisture.

The main street in the village  resembled a scene from Dickens. All it needed was a horse drawn hansom cab to come clattering down from the station.

 

A Misty day in Blackheath

Like something from 19C London.

Cars had their  lights on, but  fog horns would have been handy as well.

 

Blue Mountains mist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back home, the budding wattles were providing some colour, albeit muted. It will be spring in a few days, officially anyway.

Wattle about to bloom in the mist.

Wattle about to bloom.

By now it was more  foggy rain than mist. Time to light the fire and put the kettle on.

 

Misty Blue Mountains

Home sweet home.

There are early spring bulbs on the sill, almost as warming as a lamp.

Spring bulbs

A cheering posy.

 

 

 

 

 

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