Wallowing...

You may - or may not - have heard about the rain in these parts?

I realise some of those around the ridges (further south) may be a little sick of it, but me? No way, Jose. I have been ready for a flood from the first drops. Ready, willing and pantry stocked to the max. And Nikon primed and stuttering at every vivid green-and-grey view like a raging machine gun. Bear with me while I wallow a little longer in the lushness we find ourselves surrounded by. I know for sure it will not last. And these rainy day pages will undoubtedly be among the most-visited by moi when dry weather again takes a stranglehold on our part of the world... Wallow with me?

~.~

This series is from the Bunyip Hole.

Invaded not only by streaming water...

but by birdlife who look for all the world as if they never left...

Seriously? Swans in a paddock where a few weeks ago dust was blowing...

My favourite of all native trees, groves of gorgeous blue gum trees...

The rushing sound of the floodwaters is as insistently cleansing to my senses as the rains that gave them life...

And the stream tumbles and roars around newly-created islands...

Singing it's anthem of new life around tree trunks and giant knotting roots...


Before racing headlong to fill creeks and tributaries and dams and rivers...

perhaps in the days, weeks, months ahead to wriggle through to the ocean.

Leaving behind calm, content waterholes.

Happy to lie in wait for blue skies and hot suns.

Reflecting the stillness of draping trees, polished grey branches and the ancient myths of bluegums and bunyips.

Just like me.

Happiness, history and the laundry from hell

When our little flood caused some local excitement last week,

I took a lot of photos. It's what I do. I can't help myself...

For instance, I took photos of my once-again-filthy car...

I COULD moan about how I had JUST cleaned the blessed thing two days earlier.

And whinge and bitch about how it took me HOURS to scrub the last of the red dust from the corners and crevices of the doors and wheels. But really, do I EVER take photos of the clean version to show you, so you'd believe a second of the carry-on? No. So this is why I don't bother. Aren't you pleased I showed such restraint today?

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So I have settled upon something far more interesting...

If you've been around here a while, you might recall a very old bridge which crosses the 'river' a couple of kilometres downstream from our house.

For those who haven't trawled back through the archives (and I'm talking two years ago here folks) here is a taste. This is The Old Bridge circa March, 2008:

And here is my family on the Old Bridge...

It's a groovy old structure with lots and lots of character (and believe me, it REQUIRES a lot of character to actually drive over it)! This bridge that spent a decade or so completely submerged when our dam (a good 15km further downstream) filled in the '70s. Over the years it has survived some serious slamming of logs and goodness knows what else... and it has the scars to show it.

While we are at historical/hysterical moments of astonishment - how much has THIS little woman grown up in two years?

*heavy sigh*

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yes, there was some excitement two years ago when this little run of water came down the river...

...a mere trickle really.

If you recall, the action then was more human and canine related.

But this time,

...this time it was Mother Nature letting it rip.

Yikes.

No bridge walks for us on this week.

Those barely visible posts are the entry points to the bridge...

The water was already falling here - it had been about two feet higher than this before we arrived (you can see if you look closely at the darker flattened grass on the other side of the river...

By tomorrow, the water will be back to it's usual barely-there situation.

Many megalitres however have topped up parched underground reservoirs, and some of this even made it's way all the way down the river bed to the dam. A dam which has gone from two percent capacity (a puddle) to ... are you ready for it... FIVE percent! Whoo-hooo!

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Of course, in amongst the celebrating (and the odd spot of sarcasm) there is the anticipation of the least-popular job on Granite Glen.

Rebuilding river crossings.

All the fences swept downstream by the water need to be put back up. Twisted barbed wire tangled in mud and dead things and all kinds of smelly grossness... a job requiring the workers to get down and dirty. In hip-deep and sometimes chest-deep filth.

Guess who gets that task... no, not me if I can help it!

But who d'ya think gets to wash his feral clothes?

What?

Am I whinging again?

Sorry.

I think the Yanks call it "keeping it real".

See you after the laundry from hell.

Ducks and a lesson for a wet day

Well, I s'pose I should show you a little of what this wonderful wet weather has done to our countryside... this is an image heavy post, so get the caffeine ready and make yourself comfortable...

~.~

Firstly, let me explain my post title.

One: today was Friday and my kids stayed home from school. The roads are horribly greasy, the gullies and creeks are all running, and the rain was hanging around. So we spent the day doing a bit of homework and some 'outdoor' activities.

Two: meet Daffy and co...

An entire flock of ducks sitting in disbelief atop a bridge.

This bridge links our place to our neighbours place and is part of a major thoroughfare for this neighbourhood. What were they all looking at? And what caused the 'are you kidding me?' expression on the two foul at the far left of the image?
~.~

Here's a glimpse...

See that bubbling, brown, swirling-ness to the left?
Can you hear the roar of water as it charges downstream?
(Oh... clearly not - this is a sound free blog, isn't it?)

That'd be the river coming down, folks!
In all it's brown, filthy, frothy glory...

See that fence disappearing into the water?

Compare to this shot taken just after our New Year rain...

Mr Incredible would have been pretty much underwater had he tried this today!

Here is a wider perspective...

And a much better vantage point!!

It's quite an impressive run, really. The best for a very very long time. Perhaps enough to lift our big dam (about 20km downstream from this bridge) from 2% to 3% of capacity. Who knows? More outrageous things have happened...

Here is an angle from the bank - you can see there is still a very long way to go before this bridge goes under... in fact, it NEVER has. But you can see how high (decades ago) the water once sat, almost at the top of those huge cylindrical pylons. I remember actually water-skiing under this and almost being able to touch the giant timber beams of the bridge itself.
~.~
Add up those 20km of riverway and the gap of about 18 feet from bridge to water here...

You can see we aren't even close to old records yet!

Meanwhile, up on the bridge proper...
Our intrepid flood inspectors are setting out...

And a mother tries to distract herself from the awful drop to the water below with some sweet reflections... desperately ignore her offsprings' tendancies to hurl sticks into the upstream side of the bridge, then belt back across to watch the hapless twigs float down the muddy torrents.

How many children do I have again? Mr Incredible is explaining away his enthusiasm for this behaviour as helping our kids learn about currents and forces and water and eddies. All of a sudden, the man is a homeschooling fanatic?

Of course, each neighbour has to carry out their own personal inspection of any local flooding. We ended up with three vehicles parked at the end of the bridge comparing river stories. Hey, it doesn't rain here that much! We savour where we can...

~.~

Of course not EVERYONE was thrilled with the influx of water into our river system.

This little guy was taking refuge on a rock below the bridge...

At least he was...

til the Granite Glen homeschooling posse arrived for class!

Splish Splash... rain revellin'

Is there an extension of the old Indian proverb:

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun?

Something like:

Bush kids and mad Mums race out into the pouring rain?

No?

Should be...

When the sweet drizzling rain set in at Granite Glen, just after New Year,

and we had gotten sick of the inside chores and shed jobs,

Mr Incredible and I bundled the kids up

and arried out a little inspection tour...

First stop is the Big Bridge.

In the old days (say 25 years ago) when we had regular wet seasons that kept the dam below this river close to capacity, we actually used to waterski under this bridge and touch the massive joists as we passed under it.

True story.

Now people just drive over and try hard not to look down at the 3-4 metre drop to the almost-dry riverbed. It's a narrow, one-lane bridge. Fun (or terrifying, depending on your personality)in a big truck, I can tell you.

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Now we are a VERY long way from filling this reservoir again, but the little trickles are slowly running from the sodden earth and gently replenishing the underground water supplies.

The ground had been so parched and thirsty up until just before Christmas,
that every drop of rain had been sucked into the earth.

But now... now most of the country around us has had enough saturation to allow new rain to run-off.

And run-off means new ponds and puddles and green, green grass.

And you know what happens then....

Some splashin'!

Our next inspection point is the Little Bridge.

Poignant point of interest: the spot where Tuffy was found was just to the right of the approach to this bridge. The spot where his Mum raced back upon being returned to her paddock. Makes me a little sad every time I drive by it...

Bush Lesson: This is a creek crossing. i.e. where the fence crosses a creek.

Like its bigger, river cousins, it is built to fall apart at its centre join, when water floods down the creek bed. Ideally, the force of the water pushes each half to the side of the watercourse, and makes it easier to find the end and put it back up again. Creek and river crossing are NOT my idea of fun - it's spiky, dirty, sometimes snake-infested work - but doing river crossings mean it has rained in this often-dry country, so no-one is really ever game to complain about them.

The Little Bridge goes over a creek, which is smaller (duh) and runs a lot more readily than the river. It had a real 'fresh' going and was lots of fun for the kids to explore

Let's watch things float, Violet...

Let's throw floaty things upstream and watch them float back, Dash...

Let's skim stones...

Meanwhile their Mum is all: Cool reflections!

*Clickety-Click*.

And: Ooh, lovin' the splashes.
And their Dad is all: You want a splash... I'll give you a SPLASH!

Ka-boom!

And just like that... I had my new header.

Thanks darl.

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Hope the weather is kind at your house...

at the moment we are enjoying a little time away, at the beach.

And the vision isn't SO much different from these shots.

Lucky we love rain, eh?

Giving Thanks...

Short and sweet tonight as I pack for a few days away...

during my absence from Granite Glen,

I will share some images of the amazing rain

we have wallowed in over the last couple of days.

I will (of course) be checking in while I am gone.

(Don't come between me and my internet connection!)

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Here's a teaser of what's been bringing smiles to our dials round here ...

The bureau is hedging their bets on some more clouds headed this way...

Keep it coming, Huey!

What I would NOT do for a macro lense.*sigh*

"I will not be greedy, I will not be greedy..."

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OK. Let's make this the first BB Weather Watch post of 2010 ...

Forecasts and reports from your corner of the world,

please Ladies and Gentlemen.

(I can say that now - look at those boys joining my posse!

Ye-hah!!)

Pre-Christmas rollercoaster

This'll be quick - life is chaotic and crazy and Christmassy here

(or as my friend Jayne would say: Chris-Messy).

...

The emotional rollercoaster ride of the Granite Glen express has been full on -

Jeanie finally presented us with a little angel of a baby girl on Monday.

This little sweetheart...

(I would show you another of the shots, but my hubby has vamoosed in the Prado and accidentally taken my camera for the ride).

...

The as-yet-un-blog-named little darlin' has a very definite little chin, an unmissable cry and loves being held upright against Mum's chest. She and Salina are bonding beautifully -I have never seen a prouder big sister!

Gorgeous...

...

Lots and lots of other stuff (some of which involves some serious downward motion on that rollercoaster I am referring to) has happened. I will save details 'til after the Festive Season I think.

(Gosh I'm a tease, aren't I?).

...

But this bit of weather-related news I will share:

it rained here last night as I was driving home in the dark from Paradise.

Real rain.

Freaky rain.

Flooding rain.

Almost four inches of the wet stuff.

With some hail, the size of large marbles.

But get this....

ONLY AT OUR HOUSE.

Well, it did reach our next-door neighbours' too

and it actually put a run in the river,

but just over the small range just a few kilometres from our place...

NOTHING.

Dust.

It's very weird.

Apparently from a distance, a giant mushroom-shaped cloud sat right over our property.

Some say it looked like a twister over our place.

(Not that we really get twisters Down Under.)

There is debris everywhere here this morning.

At least we don't have to top up the pool or water the lawn.

I kind of feel for those whose rain gauges are still dry though...

We have friends trucking water to keep stock alive.

So we are keeping our joy pretty low-key.

'Wide-spread rain' appears to be an extinct kind of weather event in this part of the world...

...

Anyway, got go clean up and unpack and start cooking!!

Oh, and WRAP.

*sigh*

Happy Christmas Eve, my friends...

hope your Christmas rollercoaster stays up, up, UP for ya!

Any Rain Will Do...

I had an awesome comment in my Weather post this week that I could not leave unacknowledged.

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The fabulous Rhubarb Whine was inspired (or harrassed) into action by my constant harping about rain (or lack of it) and set her busy mind to our drought dilemma.

She proceeded to re-write the lyrics for "Any Dream Will Do" -

sung (when one googles the lyrics) by one JASON DONOVAN.

(Uh huh? Oh, that's right. Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat. Right.)

...

And seeing as how I actually managed to capture some of the drops of H2O that fell immediately after I published that Weather Watch post (it was amazing, sprinkling down for a good 15 minutes, putting 9.5mm in our dusty rain gauge) along with Violet's frolicking in the shower, I decided to put pics to lyrics for y'all!

...

Presenting VIOLET and RHUBARB's ANY RAIN WILL DO

I closed my eyes,

drew back the curtain to see for certain what I thought I knew

Far far away, Bush Babe is weeping,

but the clouds are sleeping

Any rain will do

I have a coat,

with plastic lining bright colours shining,

wonderful and new

And in the east, the dawn is breaking,

and the world is waking

Any rain will do

A crash of thunder,

a flash of light

could this be it, some rain tonight?

But the clouds are fading into darkness

I am left alone (ahhhh!)

May I return to the beginning

The light is dimming, and the clouds are too

The world and I,

we are still waiting, still hesitating

Any rain will do .

How cool was that?

Could NOT have said it better myself!

...

Note: the rain did not reach more than 3 kilometres in any direction. It pretty much fell RIGHT on our house and my uncles house nearby. Kinda weird. Nice, but weird.