Showing posts with label dry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dry. Show all posts

Monday, 10 March 2014

wombat, dog and no rain in sight

When is it going to rain? Our garden is desiccated, and so are the parks where we walk. Here's the soil last week at Yarra Bend.

 

 For the first time in weeks, we decided to take a stroll in Darebin Parklands a couple of days ago, and it sure is dry. The ground is cracking open.


 

The ranger does a terrific job looking after this huge area, and it's great to see the historic mulberry trees are surviving so far.


 

We received an email on Sunday evening warning us to be aware of the wombat that has been released in the Parklands. We'll certainly respect its right to live safely, and won't knowingly disturb it.

To be honest, I'd be a bit scared to meet it unexpectedly. When we go to the hills for our holiday, we don't go too near the huge wombat that lives around our house, except that Penny loves to gobble up his poo. I usually leap out of the car first, gather up the heaps of grassy poo and put it in the compost bin, but occasionally I miss some and Penny delights in it. One time, I closed a gate in the daytime not realising the wombat might be in that paddock. I remembered, went down in the dark to re-open the gate and a humongous giant - the wombat - rushed past as soon as it was open. Penny and I took to our heels in fright.

Friday, 11 January 2013

summer - or drought once more?


This morning, in our summer routine for hot days, we set off early, when the parks are pretty much deserted, except for dog walkers. The sun was brassy in the sky, and already hot at 7:45 am, but bearable because of the clouds.





As usual, Penny made the walk interesting, stopping to draw my attention to a good smell on a rock...





and on a post.

The grass on the sportsground is still green, thanks to watering from the storage tanks.


But it's frightening to see how the environment is drying up elsewhere, now that it hasn't rained for so long.  The cracks in the earth beneath our feet are a warning of how fragile our hold on life is, in this dry Australian continent. I have water tanks to hold 8000 litres, but two out of three tanks are empty.


I hope we're not slipping back into drought.