The complexity of Regional Australia

I really love the complexity of Regional Australia. You can't see it from the air or along the main freeways: everything blurs into a sameness. You have to get  to get off the highways and simply wander.

I mention this only because the Broke area in the Hunter Valley has just had a little Italy Festival among the local wineries. Now I know the area reasonably well, although it is a little time since I visited. Because my memory was imperfect, I spent a pleasant half hour on Google maps just refreshing myself as to how the area fitted together.

Google maps really is an invaluable aid. In both my historical research and in my broader writing, I constantly find myself wanting to sort out local detail.

Mind you, Google maps is far from perfect. A good atlas or relief map is absolutely necessary in some cases if you are to understand the patterns of life and the geography that underlies them.

Each valley in Regional Australia has its own story. Sometimes those stories have been lost because rural depopulation has removed local people and visible signs. Then you have to dig. At other times, locals have fought to retain their heritage and to explain it to outsiders.

In all cases, the sometimes subtle variations in the natural environment provide constant variety.

You cannot understand these from a car. When travelling, I stop. Sometimes I just stand and look around. At other times I walk around to see what I can see. Sometimes I find nothing to see. At other times, I find unexpected pleasures - a view, a rock structure, particular grass types, some secret of primary production.

I accept that I am naturally curious, willing in most cases to forgo the need to get from point A to point B in the fastest possible time. yet the unexpected pleasure that I have got from stops and meanders is quite remarkable. Why don't you try it sometime.     

Crossing the Simpson Desert

In winter 1985, Gordon Smith and five others set out  in three vehicles to cross the Simpson Desert west to east. They were following the French Line, a track made by oil exploration companies in the 1970’s.

This is actually quite a remarkable shot because it brings out the sheer difficulty of the terrain.

Each year visitors die in the Australian outback because of their failure to take simple precautions - the right vehicle in the right condition, letting people know what you are doing, having reserves of food and especially water.

I often use Gordon's photos on this blog because they are simply so good. Have a browse.

White Mountain Banksia in Flower

Just for a short break from my lazy gardener series, this photo taken by Gordon Smith shows the White Mountain Banksia ( Banksia integrifolia subsp. monticola) in flower near Armidale in Australia's New England.

Growing up in this area I came to love the European feel of the landscape created by the European's love of plants from home. This creates the colours of autumn. But I also came to love the often subtle shades of the natural Australian landscape.

Mind you, there is nothing subtle about some of the bright reds and ochres of the Australian outback. However, most colour changes are more subtle.

I have never seen the two loves as inconsistent. We all change the world we live in. Australia's indigenous peoples did this, just as we do today.

There can be a difficult balancing act between preservation and change. However, I have little sympathy for some metro enthusiasts who want to lock Regional Australia up in an apparently unchanging stasis as their personal preserve.