Moons and blooms and other splendid things

Canberra, September 2008

As I was driving back the other day from visiting my mother in one of the northernmost suburbs, the sun made its spectacular exit from the sky in a display of burnished gold across the majestic outline of the Brindabella ranges and then softened to a soft glow to end the day. Other days, the sunset has been a palette of pinks and oranges. After close on three decades living on the Equator, I had forgotten how beautiful these extended displays of artistry could be.

On another occasion, I exclaimed aloud at the sight of a huge rainbow that arched across the dusty brown landscape after a brief rainshower. We even saw where it ended – in a field about 300 metres from the road which took us across country between the suburbs where my brothers live.

Spring is in evidence here in the trees in full blossom – clouds of pink and swathes of white against the black branches of recently hibernating trees. The wattles are in profusion, camellias putting forth their blousy blooms and the daffodils and other bulbs are nodding their heads welcoming the warmer weather and longer daylight hours.

There is not much green in this dry land and I miss the lush dark greens of the tropics but there is much to appreciate in the diversity of the plant life. Even the eucalypts are surprisingly different – from the ghostly white bark of the snow gums to the discarded skins of the stringy bark gums.

During the day, the chortling of the magpies, the squawking of the cockatoos, the flash of red and green of the rosellas and the gentle pink and grey feathering of the galahs all provide colour and interest.

And then when the night falls and envelops the city in its velvet cloak, the full moon illuminates the sky already carpeted with stars. Fortunately the lights of the capital city still provide little competition to the splendour of the heavens, and at night when I turn off my bedside lamp I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.