... on a winter's day

Since the virus struck, we have been on so many walks in our area we were pretty sure there was nothing new to explore. And then... Steve put his finger on a tiny green-coloured spot on the Fleurieu Peninsula map he was poring over.  Scott Conservation Park, it said. Never heard of it. Turns out it's a tiny park 40kms from home, just north of Currency Creek. Perfect for a bit of rambling on this winter's day.

And from that small beginning, we had the most wonderful time. While the park itself was nothing spectacular, the sum of its parts all added up to a magical feast of nature: the wintry sun shining on the oil in the eucalyptus leaves and making everything sparkle; the birdsong that followed us; the ancient pink gums and stringybarks with their gnarled, twisted trunks that had escaped the long-ago tree-fellers; and the yaccas, small native pines and winter-flowering plants that provided variety. On top of that, not a single human being around us. 

The track was wide and soft underfoot at first ...  

... then narrowed as it wound its way through thick forest.

Of the two paths on offer, we had taken the circular path, following a gully that had cut a very deep swathe through the park. At one stage I ventured to peer into it - at least 30 feet deep - but quickly got back onto the path as one false step in the soft sanded edge and I'd be over. This next photo shows how easily a winter flood could further weaken the banks.

Many of the gums were about to break into bloom...

... while some correa were already showing off their vividly coloured bell-shaped flowers.

A number of the trees were huge and had already shed their bark...  

...while others still had a fair bit to go...

While some showed lovely patterns as the bark peeled itself off.

This next photo shows one of the many yaccas (the South Australian species of what I call grass trees) and pines that dotted the park, adding to the variety of plants that made this park so interesting. 

On we went, to the accompaniment of the birds' raucous calls, though only catching glimpses of them as they soared skywards then swiftly swirled back into the safety of the trees.

Sometimes the path opened out again into a wide park-like setting.

And then, as before, it narrowed as it meandered through denser undergrowth. Only the sound of the birds accompanied us as we breathed in the fresh air that carried with it the scent of eucalyptus and ... well, just nature. 

And suddenly, we encountered a muddy creek. Thankfully, there was a small wooden bridge crossing it. I definitely did not want to fall in.

Over safely, and nearly at the end of the walk. It was only around 3kms but so full of different, interesting vegetation. A relaxing, peaceful way to spend a winter's day. We're going to come back in spring and do the longer Orchid Walk!  

Autumn in the park

For garden lovers...

With a cloudy no wind day forecast we thought it was a good time to visit the Mount Lofty Botanic Gardens again. We've been before but only to the upper part of the gardens. This time we planned to park in the lower carpark. A friend of Steve's who went last week reported that the autumn colouring was pretty good, so I packed a picnic lunch and soon we were on the road heading towards the Adelaide Hills. 

The temperature was hovering around 12 degrees when we arrived, so we rugged up and set off, cameras at the ready. We were not disappointed. We started our walk at the lake.

Most of the deciduous trees were busy shedding the last of their leaves...

A couple of leaves that just won't let go...

I always adore carpets of leaves and these were spectacular.

But there was still plenty of colour on the trees and shrubs left to see. We had a map of sorts that showed the paths around the gardens but somehow the reality didn't match with the map and although there were signs, they were vague, with arrows pointing to where three paths converged so it was difficult to actually follow a specific route. So we did what all good explorers do, and decided to ramble. At first we stuck to the wide bitumen paths. 

Steve, of course, was immediately hard at work...

... while I was content to stroll.

But my camera came out when I saw the reflections in the waterlily pond.

And then I discovered the flowers, some of which some of which I'd never seen before. They were everywhere I looked. Writing this blog is sometimes embarrassing as I (a keen gardener) have to admit I have no idea what some of these plants are. Even looking them up in my gardening books when I got home didn't help.

I'm pretty sure this is a camellia.

I know these are primroses.

I don't envy the gardeners having to constantly clip these 'clouds'.

We decided to be a little more adventurous and took a smaller gravelly path, all the while marvelling at the autumn colouring. 

I was constantly searching for photo opportunities as all I seemed to do was point my camera at the autumn trees and shoot, knowing I'd get a colourful photo. So I tried to look from a different perspective. 

A wintry branch.

An ibis/egret? My bird expert Colin will have to let me know.

Fungus aplenty.

A pretty woodland flower.

Wispy grasses by the lake.

Time for a rest.

After a break for some refreshments, we set off again. It was still freezing cold!!!!! We spotted a number of sculptures dotted about the gardens that were not too intrusive nor overwhelming (as some sculptures can be), so they got our tick of approval.

We had somehow returned to the lake so followed the sign that said 'Fern Gully'. This was easy to find and a complete contrast to what we had seen so far.

Time to consult the map again. We decided it was no good going to the Heritage Rose garden as the roses would be past their prime. The South American Gully that had a Gondwanan theme seemed promising but the map warned of 'steep gradients' so we gave that a miss too.  Aha - the Rhododendron Gully sounded good, though its peak, the brochure said, was 'August to October'.  We did see some flowers though.

Nearby, I spotted a huge bed of these  - they smelt divine, a heady sweet perfume. It looks a bit like an osmanthus ...

... but the petals seem frilly. So, who knows? 

We had spent nearly four hours wandering about and felt satisfied with what we had seen. On the outskirts of the park, on the track back to the carpark, we passed a swathe of our good old Australian bush - no deciduous colours here, no fragile woodland flowers, nothing neat or ordered. Wonderful.