Playing Catch-up With Myself: November ... Spring Comes in Late (thank you, La Nina)

Nothing in the world says "spring" like ducklings! It was so good to see squadrons of them at Belair, Byards, Brodie Road, Laratinga, Perry Bend -- everywhere, this year, whereas last year I don't think I spotted even one. This family, here had managed to raise ten, which is exceptionally good going in an environment where cats and foxes wreak havoc. They were right there on the bank as we finished out a walk at the Brodie Road wetlands. Nice!

By November I was feeling more like my old self. The only thing still lingering from the virus was fatigue, and when I saw Dr Tim for my annual bloodwork, I mentioned this ... he wasn't in the slightest surprised. Without going anywhere near "long covid," which is a very different animal indeed, the so-called "post covid syndrome" hits a lot of people and is a bear to get rid of. Fatigue, foggy thinking, shortage of breath, listlessness ... yep, this was me.

But by the time by birthday rolled around I was even boring myself! It was time to throw this thing off somehow, anyhow, and -- well, Dave knows me. I'm terminally stubborn. Just too stubborn to know when to quit or how to say no. I think I'll be dead for three days before to occurs to me to lie down.

November was pretty good, in fact. We walked a lot, and got up to Clare Valley and, I think Laratinga when the weather was good enough to permit. Got the chance to revisit Seven Hill, which has a timeless charm all its own, and the Gleeson Wetlands, which have become a favourite place of mine.

Late in the month, we went orchid hunting at Belair NP -- but that's another story, which I'll tell in the next post. From a purely personal perspective, it was great to be starting to feel like a normal person again after a few rough months. Do not let anyone tell you that Covid is just flu and you'll throw it off in a week ... not even vaguely true! But spring was bursting out everywhere by November -- it came in late and wet, but when it arrived ... well, I'll close this post out with those ducklings at Brodie road, which say it all. And in the next Catch-up post, we'll go orchid hunting!

Playing Catch-up With Myself: October Arrives With a Whimper

 

October. What can you say about the first half it it? The weather was enough to make you weep, and we stayed closed to home. I was juuust starting to throw off the virus, and hoping to get out, get moving, but what you don't want to do is be halfway well and head out into sheets of freezing rain! 

So we didn't do much of anything for the first couple of weeks. I slogged around the house, walking aimlessly to get the legs moving, lifting embarrassing flea-weights, doing Qigong, when and if my body would allow it; and sometimes it wouldn't. 

Still, by the mid-point of the month we were able to brave the conditions and head south for a blustery afternoon. This, above, is Second Valley. Looks like the dead of winter, but in fact, we were six weeks since the beginning of spring, and I'd started to fret that the summer heat would hit us without warning, with no appreciable spring to speak of. (It sorta, kinda did, but not quite as suddenly or as hard as I'd worried).

The high point of that afternoon was the Singing Honey Eater who came to check out the picnic bags we'd put on the mosaiced concrete table near the jetty. And just to prove it was spring ... the pink version of the Raging Fumitory was in full bloom. The pink one seems to bloom well after the white one ... oh yes, this was spring -- though you wouldn't have known it at the time!

Still, onward and upward. Time to make plans to go somewhere, do something. And what we had in mind was a daytrip over to Yorke Peninsula. Now, BC (Before Covid), we'd have done it over two days and stayed overnight at a nice cabin in a caravan park somewhere on the south tip of the Yorke --

After Covid? Nope. How can you know for sure that the last people staying there weren't riddled with Covid, coughing and sneezing all over the cabin, then vacating it and handing it to you?! You can't. And since we know the virus can live for 72 hours on fabrics, and it's transmitted via touch, Dave and I long ago made the decision to stay out of accommodations until/unless a proper vaccine comes along that cures this thing. I mean CURES it, not just lessens the effect while your brain turns to glue wi8th repeated infections.

So -- the Yorke Peninsula daytrip was on, and planned, and we did it on October 20. This will be the next of my Catching-Up With Myself journal entries, and I'll get into it tomorrow. 

Yes, you could be assured that it was spring, grey skies notwithstanding, because --

I'm going to congratulate myself on this last photo: Yay! I managed to rescue "Fire and Ice," which I'd once thought was so dead, it was due to be transferred to the bin. Let this be a lesson: never give up, not if there's one spark of life left. Fire and Ice is now one of the most beautiful bushes in the garden!

Playing Catch-up With Myself: September, BC (Before Covid) ... Cherry Blossom Time

 

To be fair, Covid didn't invade the family home till about September 10th, and before that -- yes, we did get out a couple of times, mostly to Belair, but once or twice -- it was "cherry blossom time," and for several years it's been out pleasure to photography the trees in this locality.

Nothing must happened in those early weeks of September ... the images we captured are so pretty, but they would be the last till October, when we headed for Upper Waterfall, not expecting to find any orchids because it was supposed to be too late in the year ... and wouldn't you know it? The La Nina spring was so late, so wet and chill, the orchids were still ion full bloom. 

That belongs to another post -- my Catch-up for October; for now -- Cherry Blossom Time

This year's 'orchid hunt' turns up treasure

It's been almost three years since Dave and I were able to be in the right place at the right time to hunt down Australian native orchids in their native habitat ... the woods. The last time we had the chance was back in 2016, before Mom passed away, before I was hospitalized myself, and before I was well and truly disabled (fall on a treadmill, banged up knee leading to plantar fascitis; fast forward twenty months from the fall, and I'm still trying to recover fully). The hike was a chore for me, but well worth it. Here's more evidence:

Many of these flowers are so tiny, so delicate and exotic, it's amazing to stumble over them almost in your own backyard. We live only about twenty-five minutes from Belair National Park ... and we know just where to look for these beauties!

Hunting orchids means hiking a long way while staring fixedly at the ground. Along the way, you'll also find a tremendous wealth of other wild flowers, which might not be as rare and exotic as orchids, but they're fleeting and beautiful...

Now, the last time we hunted orchids, it was mainly spider orchids we saw. This time around, we met a gent in the park who certainly sounded like an expert, but he said the spider orchids were all gone, we were too late this year. Here's where it gets a trifle odd: in 2016, we found a wealth of them -- in November. Hmm. I'm wondering if he mixed them up with some other kind, and if it would be worth going back at the end of October, and taking a look. Because we certainly found them in November a few years ago. Worth a try???

Spring has sprung in Belair, and it's the best time of the year:

...and this, above, is the very track we were walking when we found some of the most beautiful orchids. At the very beginning of October, there was real power in the sun. Enough to work up a sweat. Alas, these flowers won't last long ... we were lucky to be there on the right day.

Virus: 7, Jen: 0

The post title really does tell all. Turns out, I have plenty of immunity to the local strains of virus, but when a bug comes in from overseas ... wham! No immunity whatsoever. Have been laid low for a few days with a very nasty "stomach wog," as we'd say here. Call it what you will, the effects are the same. Am just beginning to lurch back to my feet, so ...

It's this time of year in South Australia:

Springtime -- October -- and the hills dress up yellow and purple with two kinds of weed. The brilliant yellow is Cape Daisy, aka Cape weed, Cape dandelion, Cape marigold etc.  -- native to Natal and Lesotho, in South Africa. The purple is "Salvation Jane," native to England, which we were told very recently is utterly toxic to livestock, since it produces a neurotoxin when eaten by mammals. Hmm. Here, we see paddocks of cattle grazing happily and safely in the midst of this biohazard, so ... go figure. It's either a neruotoxin or ... it ain't. And I have no answer for you today. Must look into this.

At any rate, the landscape is very beautiful, a mix of green and gold and purple. These shots were taken on the road to Rapid Bay. We're enjoying traveling around the local region with Anna, who's here from the US east coast, for a few weeks' vacation downunder. Aha! That's how the salien strain of virus got in, right? Right!