This small Red Hibiscus has held on and survived being dug up by Maggie, replanted and finally re-located to a Maggie safe area. Now, 2 years later these beautiful coloured flowers appear individually, bloom for a couple of days, then shrivel up. We have to remember to water the plant regularly. A much larger, multi blooming Yellow Hibiscus thrives a few metres away.
exposing bashful foliage
fiery red survivor
time passed slowly
older family memories
never slip away
My wife Jill and her brother Murray now own this house which was originally built by their great great grandfather in the 1860’s. At this time one of the most productive gold mining areas in the world had developed in the area around the house and in surrounding valleys and was known as the Bendigo gold mine fields in Victoria Australia. The house was built by hand from mud bricks sourced from a nearby stream. Three generations of the family grew up here before it was finally leased for a while then left uninhabited until Jill’s family re-discovered it in the late 1960’s. Jill’s family spent hundreds of hours across many years repairing the mud brick walls and interior. We have enjoyed many picnics at the house and explored the flora of the surrounding area . A regional park adjoins the property and we wander out the back and through the remnants of the once bustling, prosperous gold fields observing nature and taking written records and photos..
Three different views of Mount Fuji yet all similar. From whatever direction or distance one sees Fuji San the presence and shape remain the same. That is, as long as you can see it. The three scenes are.
Sunset from a temple high on a ridge above the city of Gotemba
Approaching Tokyo on the Shinkansen from Osaka.
From a car on the ropeway above Lake Hakone in the Hakone National park.
When I was younger I dreamed of climbing Mount Fuji however being lucky enough to see the sacred mountain each visit to Japan has been more than enough. Besides climbing is only a dream now. ON my last visit with a school trip My group stayed in the Hakone National park. Two evenings in a row I took them to the temple site for a sunset and both times the cloud hid Fuji. Touring the national park was a rain filled heavy clouded sightless day. Finally on our last morning before travelling to Tokyo I escorted the disappointed viewless students and teachers to a recommended lookout even though the atmosphere was heavy and again cloudy. As we stood there straining eyes with a few false alarms I implored everyone to say a pray to Fuji. A few giggled and then suddenly the clouds parted and for a couple of minutes there stood the mountain rising up before us. Then in seconds it disappeared and rain began falling. I did hope none of my group considered me some kind of holy man calling up Mount Fuji. It was pure luck and unpredictable weather conditions.
Sunsets play with human imaginations especially fiery red ones. Whenever there is a volcanic eruption in South East Asia we expect brilliant red sunsets in the near future. Fiery sunsets in Summer are also associated with bushfires in Australia, smoke creating horrific scenes with the setting sun. We are lucky in Bayside Melbourne to have a long view across the bay for our sunsets and can anticipate brilliant photographic opportunities with the right combination of cloud and atmosphere. I love photographing sunsets.