SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH IRENE AND KEVIN

On Sunday -- last weekend, whatever the date was -- my friends from Hobart, Irene and Kevin McGuire drove up to see me and my retreat. And, incidentally, bring me additional food supplies. (They also brought me hat and scarf and gloves, which I've been happy to have.) They arrived about 10:30 and I took them immediately to see my little house. They were as startled at its commodiousness as I was when I arrived--and the washing machine whirring away as we walked in was further testament to the more or less all mod cons that I'm enjoying here.

Oh it's true, the fire had gone out--my fire-setting skills turn out to be intermittent. But it's also true that the season has been so wet and cold that all the really dry wood for the park and campsite has been used, so what we're burning now is not completely cured and takes more ooomph to get going. Kevin decided I needed some smaller pieces of wood and immediately set to creating them, with the fairly dull axe that resides in the woodbox. Before long he had enough stacked up to last beyond my stay, I suspect.

We got the car to a spot behind my house--not easy for me to guide him, I'm so poorly oriented to the connections between buildings, paths, roads, etc., but we found the spot eventually. It took only a few minutes for the three of us to get the supplies into the house and put away, with talk going on the whole time. And then we headed out to walk, so I could show them "my" park ...

We followed the track to Watersmeet, which I walk often. It's the shortest walk here and winds through varied forest to where the Hugel and Cuvier Rivers flow together in a torrent. From there we went into a stretch of rainforest, where the myrtles are old and tall and moss-encrusted, and sun gets through in small increments, making the mosses gleam. It's very cool and lovely, but not quiet, since the river runs right beside the path. We crossed the river on the track to Shadow Lake and walked up it for a few minutes to get the full effect of being surrounded by trees and moss--and then retraced our steps. There's a point on that track just before you get back to the bridge where I get lost, every time, and find myself suddenly facing a huge fallen tree with no further path. Sure enough, it happened again and we had to backtrack to get on the path.

Back across the Hugel we followed the Larrairremener tabelti back to where it joins the main Watersmeet track again. It winds up to some distance above the river, though you can still hear it, into much drier forest. And it was warm! We could hear birds but saw very few. A small skink of some sort sat in an opening in a rotting stump--a kind of metallic blue in colour--looking back at us as we looked at it. (Yesterday I took a look in a book about skinks here and I should have photographed it, because I couldn't begin to pick out which one it might have been.) Just before rejoining the other tracks the Larrairremener one goes through a stretch of buttongrass plain. I keep hoping to spy a ground parrot there, but so far no luck. We'd stopped to look at lichen-encrusted stones all along the way. Irene has a sharp eye for details, and saw all kinds of patterns. Many different lichens can grow on a single rock, and some of them seem to develop a border of dark green around their edges, creating continent-like patches. Kevin was good at seeing different countries in them.

When we got back to the house it was early afternoon and we were hungry. We drove out to Derwent Bridge, thinking we might get lunch at the hotel, but it was too late. So we went to the Hungry Wombat Cafe instead. I had a huge cauldron of pumpkin soup, Irene had a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich, and Kevin had a burger--all good.

After lunch we drove to Pumphouse Point, taking the Hydro road which seems to be basically sand, and is full of potholes. Good that Kevin's had all his driving experience--he got us through them handily. Soon after we took that road we stopped beside a large wombat rooting away on the verge. It didn't seem bothered by us. Its head was larger and less teddy-bear-like than the young one I saw on the drive here with Peter Grant. At the Point we got out and walked out the quay to the Pumphouse itself, no longer functioning. It's a very lovely building. But as we walked a growing crowd of small gnat-like insects began to surround us, getting all over and behind glasses, clinging to jackets and hats, and finally we turned and ran back. Once we were a certain distance from the water they vanished.

And it was time to head back to Lake St Clair -- and for the McGuires to hit the highway home again, perhaps to reach Hobart before dark. Irene assured me she was going to sleep in the car.

I got the fire going and settled into my solitary evening rituals of reading and watching the birds out the window. The time had shifted to Daylight Savings that day, so the light lasts longer and various birds are active till it's quite close to dark here.