Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Blogging for what?

If anyone checks in on this blog from time to time, I'm sorry to say I've fallen behind in the game of life and have had no inclination to be journaling the finer details of my absurd existence... Yet... here I am wanting feeling like I should post something, it's been a month since I last wrote anything and July could easily pass without me entering a single detail. I have trouble recounting events in order, or even recalling the details of most days, but I usually take a few photos, which are good for jogging my memory. I won't write much, I'm still not interested... As I wandered through the local St Vinnies oppshop I noticed the attendant taking pity on me. I admit I looked pretty shabby. As I drove home I looked in the car's rear view mirror and the phrase which probably defines me came to mind... "You look like nobody owns you". No this is not a declaration of my freedom from conformity or defiance of institutions of rules... Those words have been said to me on many occasions, usually by older ladies who appear to be concerned for my welfare in some way and they are said with pity. The meaning being. "You look as though you have nowhere to live and nobody to look after you." (ergo. You look like shit and you can't even take care of yourself, isn't there anyone who cares enough to feed, dress and groom you?.... You need a carer) Here's the photos.

Kayaking in Darwin (HMAS Darwin at 1 0'clock)

Approaching Warruwi Goulburn Island

Centenary celebrations at Warruwi Goulburn Island
Developing the north (in all the wrong ways)

Last of this season's Rosella's stewed in a pot

Jasper the budgie chick, a friendly fellow

Sunday, June 12, 2016

A Bee

Bees are my favorite.

Thursday, June 09, 2016

Rubbish warrior and friends rap

So our mate Trevor has finally pulled it together. A small group of musical creatives and Darwin talent dragged some gear out into the scrub to provide musical backup for Trevor's song about the alienating agitation of modern smart phone social media cultural phenomenon
Don't Talk to Me from Rohan Hawthorne on Vimeo.

Wednesday, June 08, 2016

Scapegoat

Now we cage them on far away islands. Legislated victory for manufactured atonement. Punished for living, Forbidden to die, they pay the price, We live the lie.

 
Scapegoat by William Holman Hunt

Monday, May 30, 2016

Bog

Domestic bliss has been killing me lately. I guess I'm just one of those people who is compelled to roam... (That's compelled! Not I occasionally like to get out and about, but I fell a strong compulsion to break out and roam the streets, get on a bus, go for a drive, ride my bike or... if limited to the confines of a house, pacing around the joint till I've warn a groove in the linoleum floor! I CAN'T Stand being confined!)

So after missing out on several opportunities to attend some of my favorite activities and fulfill my obligation to contribute to a few significant community responsibilities... finally I was able to get out and just ride...

After a recent visit to the Leanyer swamps I thought I'd try to make my way across the 'dry' salt flats to an isolated patch of hard ground near the sea. It all looked so easy from Google Earth!



It was a cool morning and the sky was dark with the stuff which shouldn't be here at all, not this time of year. 

As I peddled through the 10ft high Gamba grass, I felt the first few drops of precipitation. Just a few drops.... nothing really.

The rain had barely wet the ground. I didn't even bother putting my phone away, by Darwin standards this was not rain. 

Enjoying the coolness of unseasonable shade I peddled on, blissfully actually, and unaware of the the effect a few drops of moisture can have on hardened estuarine mud! 10 meters after crossing the open drain which separates the clay from the bog I discovered the amazing sticking properties of slightly moist mangrove moosh! The peddling got harder, mud gathered around the front brakes and packed against the forks... peddling got heavy, very heavy.... the whole rig came to a sliding halt!

I couldn't believe it! I was stopped dead by a few drops of rain! While I could peddle it the bike was slipping and sliding all over the joint! When it stopped the full weight of the seized bike and conglomerate of mud made it nearly impossible to move! I tried walking on across the marsh grass but every time I stepped on the ground my thongs gathered a ton of gloop which wouldn't come off, in the end the bog sucked my thongs clean off my feet! 

Front brake cable zero clearance

I couldn't believe it. My one opportunity to go exploring foiled by a 5 minute rain shower. I turned the bike around and trudged back, dragging the clogged up mess sideways across no man's land while the black kites looked on eagerly, knowing fools make good pickings for a cunning bird perched and waiting in spiky wetland spiralis Pandanus.... 

Hot and sweaty from my slippery struggle I washed the bike in the creek... surrounded by long grass in an area where crocs are known to wander.
'Another tale from the tangle(d mess)

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Bit by bit

Out and about on the fringes of Darwin

Leanyer swam


Stringybark trees harvested for art near Vanderlyn drive Karama



Bush track between the tip and Vanderlyn drive

The Darwin International Airport  and EPA have been under pressure to release water quality test results for some months after concerns were raised by community groups particularly the Save Rapid Creek group. Both airport officials and the EPA refused to make public the results of water quality testing. Out of concern for the creek a group of citizens got together, bought testing equipment, learned how to collect and test samples and then went out and tested creek water for contaminants…
Turns out there was something to hide after all. Popular Darwin fishing sites were contaminated all along!

Rapid Creek, Many people fish and swim in Rapid creek.