This morning opened the curtains to see two kookaburras on the lightpole out front of my unit.
Bit of a crummy photo, it having to have been cropped severely. I was inside, behind glass, the birds were probably about seven metres (23ft) distant, and the camera just is not interested in middle distance detail.
The kookies don’t look like they’re watching for insects in the grass at the foot of the podium, but they are canny hunters.
The lawns at Carinya are being mown, and grasshoppers will jump up to get away from the blades.
There goes one of the birds.
He glides a long slow flight to the whirring insect, snaps it up with his beak and turning his aileron-feathers slightly, changes course for a perch on a fence down there.
Walter Taylor Bridge, one of the many bridges across the Brisbane River. This one joining Chelmer on the southwest side to Indooroopilly on the northwest side.
I travelled 18 kilometres to Indooroopilly to finally have my hearing aid fixed. Eighteen kilometres that costs $55 and about forty minutes in a cab.
18 kilometres back again for an unknown amount on my senior’s Go-Card, but not more than about ten dollars, and two and a half to three hours by train, shank’s pony and bus.
I paid the cab fare on the way out there because I wanted to see how far along the roadworks had got. These the works relating to the new underground railway station and new railway tunnel under the river. It’s astounding how much of that work has to be done top-side. Made up for the cab fare by not spending anything on lunch.
On the way home, walked to the railway station—saw that nice piece of vintage infrastructure above—and waited at the station. Twenty minutes gone.
Roma Street Station still—by now it’s probably been five years of mess—at sixes and sevens due to the changes being made. But managed to find a human ticketing dispenser and was able to exchange my blue Go-Card for a brown seniors’ card. Forty five minutes at Roma Street.
Roma Street so frustrating in the end, I thought I might as well shank’s pony again (ie walk) to King George Bus Station and catch my ride home from there.
Sat down for a lunch snack and drink at 12 noon, just in time for this …
Post Office tower and how tiny it now looks! A short carrilion in keeping with the hour.
The bus 222 home to Carindale, a total of 4005 steps as well as all the other mileages. Left home at 10.00 am, got back at 1.30ish pm. Worth it?
Oh yeah! I can hear again. Missed listening to music, hearing phonecalls properly, not being surprised by squealing laughter, and birds … I can hear birds again!
Though plainly written, Simmonds’s Rising from the Flood. is to me an engrossing account of shifting a town to higher ground. That flood in 2011. The book published in 2020.
I lived in Mullumbimby, Northern Rivers NSW, for thirty odd years and shopped, went to university, medical appointments and social occasions in our nearest biggish town, Lismore.
Lismore lies where the Wilsons Creek joins Leicester River becoming Wilsons River. I’m kind of amazed typing this because I’ve been under the impression for 35 years that Wilson’s Creek/River joined the mighty Richmond at Lismore.
That that’s why it is so flood-prone. (There possibly will be some editing later, after I’ve talked to a few locals, as I really dont trust Google on this) But anyway, we press on. In the time I lived the region, Lismore was flooded numerous times.
After every flood there was talk of moving the town to higher ground. After every flood people rebuilt in the same place. Then came the 2022 flood! A flood mightier than even the 1974 flood that inspired a town-wide memorial event in 2004.
I’d already moved to Brisbane by 2022, and only had the news and what people told me to go on. Though there was talk early on about moving the town to higher ground, nothing eventuated.
Now, two years later, Lismore doesn’t seem to have recovered that well. There are dozens of towns like it along the east coast along rivers on flood-prone land. And floods are set to increase in both number and severity.
So what does it take to move a town? Because I had heard that Grantham, in Queensland, had been moved. If it’s been done before it can be done again, right?
Chapter 21, Keys to Success, opened my eyes.
First thing needed is leadership. A strong charismatic leader has to be on the ground, already known as the town’s leader, at the event, ready to take on the work right then, with a strong team.
Grantham had their mayor, Steve Jones, and his team.
Speed is the next important key. Steve and his team promised Grantham’s people they’d move the town in eleven months! It was what kept the community behind them.
Third, the project was locally driven. Yes, of course they had help and funds from higher levels of government. But it was important that decisions and their implementation remained local, and I see that. A way of keeping hurting businesses working.
Last, according to Simmonds, a small and agile team. All of them leaders in their own scenarios, able to push through inertia, doubt and reluctance. Everybody gets tired, after all.
What about the existence of somewhere to move to, I would add. A farm on higher ground was being sold at the time. I don’t know how you would replicate that chance. Because that’s what that was, chance.
But after I read the whole story, I’m inclined to think that if you don’t have that leader, you can kiss that whole relocation goodbye. The fact that Grantham had a charismatic no-holds-barred leader in Steve Jones explains it all.
Never saw such a long one … this large Eucalyptus near Winstandly Road bridge across Bulimba Creek near where I live. This tree looks to be one of the oldest in the area, just be going on its girth as it’s at least a third wider/thicker than the nearest other ‘big’ trees. Wonder how old it is?
The mud-covered termite trail goes from a large fork near the ground to the canopy, possibly about five metres or 15-16 feet.
Makes you wonder whether the whole tree is impacted. Or whether the nest up top will one day proved a kookaburra family a nesting hollow.
Azolla water fern are one of my favorite plants. Theyfix oxygen and keep the water underneath fresh.
Indtead I’ve got a great dying. I managed to keep them alive and thriving for 14 months, through moving house, twice changing water, mud, and water again. Now all dead and brown, I don’t know why.
Too cold? Not enough light? Water poisoned somehow? Fish nibbling on the roots? Only two fish remain and they are carniverous. It’s a mystery.
Rita de Heer 