Spring Show

Well, my blue wren is keeping up her regular morning visitations, this morning just after 6.30, and again this afternoon, and I’ve finally discovered it’s a she. I could hear the fluttering carry on from the next room, crept in with the camera, and there she was showing off on the bedroom window sill with her fella sporting the gorgeous blue markings distinctive of the male Superb Blue Wren. I think they were doing more than snuggling up in the tea tree in between their window display, so not wanting to be a perv and disturb their little tryst I left them to it.

With her morning visit waking me up enough not to be able to go back to sleep, I ended up grateful for the early morning call, for the mountain bathed in sunshine reflecting off the snow beckoned me as soon as I put up the blinds. Driving up the mountain as far as I dared I was treated with what should have been a winter spectacle until my frozen fingers and the wind threatening to bowl me over forced me back into the car.

Springtime in Tassie more often than not is the one time of year when four seasons in one day is not uncommon. Having been up the mountain on a previous occasion when the car decided to steer itself in a direction I wasn’t heading, I wasn’t game to go further and risk getting myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of.

I was well and truly rewarded though for my pre breakfast 
jaunt.


The purity of freshly fallen snow is something I find really special. It covers what we normally see, but in doing so helps us to see the landscape in a new way. 





It highlights things we often pass without even so much as a glance, the contrast of pink heath or new shoots or jutting rocks against their bright white blanket.

And if you stand still long enough you sense the mantle of snow blanketing sounds as well. There’s a silence in such a pristine environment that speaks volumes if you care to take time to listen.