Now for something a little different…
Question: What do you do if you meet Darcy? Worse still, what do you do if you had to sing for him?
Answer: Not my chosen solution, but this worked particularly well for a certain Amanda Price from Lost in Austen.
In the middle of the paddock stands a Moreton Bay Fig tree. I have been fascinated with this tree ever since my first visit to the Abbey. The tree is magnificent, larger than the trees in the park behind my childhood home, bigger I suspect than the trees in the Royal Botanical Gardens in the city.
Everytime I see it, I gaze in wonder. The tree seems to have a presence of their own. What wisdom could it hold after keeping watch for hundreds of years?
The day was unusually bright for autumn, and I was happy to follow the path into the bush. Here, eucalypts and blackwoods formed a rich canopy that hid a wonderland of dappled sunlight and ferns that carpeted the forest floor.
I breathed in the air, so noticeably fresher than that in Sydney, before ambling down the path. It meandered between trees and bushes, past a gurgling stream that eventually tumbled down a waterfall. Resting on a bench, I contemplated its gentle sound, and those of the forest – the shrill of the cicada, the screech of the cockatoo, the rings of the lyrebird, the laugh of the kookaburra – before continuing on. After a delightful half-an-hour of meandering, the path emerged into a meadow. I stepped into the light…
C’est toi ma lampe, Seigneur.
Mon Dieu éclaire ma ténèbre.
Seigneur, mon Dieu, éclaire ma ténèbre.
Seigneur, mon Dieu, éclaire ma ténèbre.
Your word, O Lord, is a light.
My God, enlighten my darkness.
O Lord, my God, enlighten my darkness.
O Lord, my God, enlighten my darkness.
A return visit to the Abbey… makes me almost local. What a difference a week makes. Whereas last weekend only a handful of trees had ‘turned’, this weekend the avenue was ablaze with beautiful autumn colour.
Pardon me for going overboard with photos, but with autumn leaves so rare in this part of the world (the native trees are evergreen) I feel that a celebration is needed!
I walked along the little rainforest walk almost every day and was fascinated by the ferns that grew beneath the canopy.
I loved delicacy of each vibrant frond and the ancient gnarliness of the trunk.
However, my favourite view was of frond overlaying frond as it created the most arresting effect.
There’s just something about being surrounded by natural beauty that calms my mind and body. On this visit to Jamberoo I was in luck because I got a room with a view. Consequently, during the week I spent a lot of time staring out the window, watching the kookaburras chatter, an echidna forage, and the light play against the giant Moreton Bay fig that patiently stood guard.
But as lovely as the view is, sooner or later I was compelled to explore it, and thankfully there was an abundance of wild and manicured delights to see. Being autumn, the last flourishes of flora were abound, and a walk through the rainforest that encircled the paddock provided my camera with many interesting textural details to capture.
Easter week. A time to slow down in a quiet place, to take stock, to regroup, to re-energise. Most of all, it is a time to enjoy the simple things, like taking a walk along a tree-lined road to admire the change in seasons.
As if dumplings weren’t enough, it was followed by a slight detour to Petersham for sweets – of the Portuguese kind, of course. My visit to Portugal is now light years in the past, but it hasn’t stopped my occasional craving for some great Portuguese custard tarts from Sweet Belem. Just a geeky aside, the authentic way of pronouncing ‘Belem’ is ‘Bleing’ due to the Portuguese aversion to pronouncing any vowels!
These custard tarts are undoubtedly the best in Sydney. They are rich, spicy warm with cinnamon, and its puff pastry crispy and flaky. One bite and you will never buy one from anyone else.
Apart from the obligatory custard tart, I also indulged in a ‘madelena’, the big sister of the ‘madelene’ that the French make so very well. I must say that this incredibly outdone the custard tart on this visit. It was buttery and lemony and yet light as a feather. I regret not buying more than one.
Static and Silence 