Where do you find Wildflowers in Victoria in January? High up in the Alpine Region

SNOWGUMS & WILDFLOWERS

And March flies, but let’s focus on the positives. Why go to Western Australia for the Wildflowers when you have places like this on your doorstep? Mt Baw Baw is about 2.5 hours out of Melbourne and is a jewel of a discovery for me. I chanced upon a random facebook post that prompted me to pack my camera and go exploring. I stayed at a friends place about an hour away and only got there for one morning and this is the bounty of images I collected in a very short space of time. And in January! I can’t wait to go back.

Bryce

I can't begin to find the words that touch the depths of the friendship I shared with Bryce. So I won't try. I'll just share a couple of thoughts with you.

I met Bryce in one of those serendipitous moments just a couple of weeks after I moved to Melbourne 11 years ago. As the introverts at a gathering, we navigated to a quiet spot and hit it off instantly. Bryce's photography short courses were so popular at RMIT that he needed a back up and so he recruited me and trained me up.

We had very different photography styles with Bryce more a traditionalist and me a bit more loose with my interpretation. We had many a discussion over lens flare in photographs and I'm amazed to say that after many years Bryce would occasionally agree it had artistic merit.

Bryce and I mentored each other. And I googled mentor to make sure I had the right word: an experienced and trusted adviser. He helped me navigate life and I tried to teach him how to navigate social media.

It's not an exaggeration to say that Bryce changed my world. He restored my faith in humanity. He was a constant, consistent, reliable rock. I was like a boat without a rudder, swept around by the whims of the ocean, and Bryce was a lighthouse, perched firmly and safely on high ground.

I don't know anyone else I could cover such an array of conversational topics with, in such an easy way. From the deep and meaningful to the fun and frivolous, from the meaning of life to 'how the hell did that photograph win first prize'.

A thoughtful, considerate gentleman, who always opened and closed the car door for me. Bryce had a cheeky grin, a sparkle in his eye and a gentle wisdom laced with great humour.

For a chronic over thinker like myself, Bryce taught me to adopt what he called the philosophy of Capperism. It goes something like this. At a pre game interview with the Sydney Swans when a young Warwick Capper of the tight red shorts fame had been embroiled in a series of flamboyant controversies. The interviewer asked a Team Mate how Warwick was faring and whether he thought the stress would affect his game. The team mate shook his head and said, What you have to understand about Warwick is that if you don't think, you don't worry. So whenever I'm overthinking or worrying about something I can't change, I think of Bryce's advice and it helps put things in context.

I’m honoured, humbled and grateful I got to spend Bryce’s last day with him. Of course, we didn’t know that at the time.  We still had plans.

When I kissed him goodbye at the end of the day, he gripped my hand, looked fiercely into my eyes, and said, “I love you”.

What a beautiful gift it was to know Bryce.

Taken only a few weeks ago. Fish and chips in the afternoon sun on his front porch. He was in awful pain but he rarely let on about it.

The last message I sent Bryce was that I’d take him to this exhibition (even if it was in a wheelchair). Well, he didn’t hang around long enough to see it.

I met Bryce at the Bean Counter 11 years ago when there used to be an exhibition space above it. How I got to be there is a great story in itself I might tell one day. I had no idea where this place was until years later when I moved to Fairfield and discovered it again. I went back there this week and found this artwork in the courtyard where it all began. Bryce is free from the cage of suffering now. His mind was sharp, his grin intact, his sense of humour shone until the end, but his body was the cage. Now he can fly.

Bryce's Slice

Today is the day of Bryce’s funeral. I didn’t go. (It’s a long story for another day).

I’m sitting on the balcony, still marvelling at daylight at 7.30pm (I adore daylight savings).

I’ve poured a vino and started Helen Garner’s Diaries 1995 - 1998. A christmas gift from my boss after I borrowed her original (1977) copy of Monkey Grip.

I’m after a copy of The First Stone. I’m not sure what I think about these diaries yet.


I’m agitated. End of year. Restless. Listless.

The birds are going ballistic in the surrounding trees. And by ballistic I probably mean noisy. Tweeting, chirping, whistling, warbling, carolling and so on.

Damascus the big ol’ cat is sleeping at my feet. He’s wandered over from Bekky’s place, two doors over. He’s like my grand baby and gets spoiled accordingly.


I put the book down and grab a diary and pencil. And then put that down and grab the laptop. I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. Is this note taking, a diary entry or just an email to a friend? Fucked if I know. But it’s writing. That’s all that matters. I kid myself I’ll do more writing, but then life gets in the way. And doubts. And another year passes. And then a friend dies and you start to think about the dwindling time you have left. And what you want to do with it.

What I really want is a “Room of one’s own’. A play room. To create. To play. To explore. To photograph. To write. To explore. To sew. To stitch. To ignore. To sit. To Think. To read. To make mess. To rearrange.

To do nothing. To be.


I spent all of Bryce’s last day with him. Of course, neither of us knew it would be his last day.

We had plans. I had a list.

It was a shock.

Grief packs a punch.

Today I made a caramel slice in his honour. I don’t know why. I mean, I know why I chose a caramel slice because we have a long history of sampling and comparing. And sharing. So I get the connection. But I’ve never made one before. I could’ve just gone and bought one. It would probably taste better. There’s something in the making that matters. I haven’t figured out what it is. Just that it was important.


The birdsong is a bit like listening to Jazz. Seems a bit disjointed to me. I don’t feel sophisticated enough to appreciate jazz. I prefer blues.



How do we find joy?

There’s so much heartache and tragedy.

5 children died falling off a wayward fucking jumping castle. I can’t comprehend the grief.


My friends mother died. She lives in Perth, the mum. My friend is in Melbourne. Her Mum had an aneurysm and had two brain ops. She woke, confused, disoriented and panicked, believing she was a child again who’d been stolen and taken into care. And I still hear people say they should just get over it.

My friend got knocked back for a border pass twice. Fucking covid. Third time lucky, because her mum was critical. Not expected to make it.

She has to isolate. She gets checked 3 times a day. Her white boyfriend doesn’t get checked once.

And her Mum does pass. She’s the same age as my Mum.


Bryce had multiple complications after nearly dying from a melanoma in the lung four years ago. But what killed him was not being able to breath. The pulmonary fibrosis. He never lost his sense of humour though.


I don’t make friends easily. I’ll miss Bryce. He was one of the good ones.

I have renamed the Caramel Slice ‘Bryce’s Slice’.


Thanks for listening.

Deb

Next day now. (You can see Helen Garner’s Diaries influence, can’t you).

I find I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to stay secluded in my black hole. It’s not all grief. Some of it is fear and practicalities. With over a thousand cases of covid each day I don’t want to risk not being able to get on a plane next week to get to Qld to see my boy and my Mum.

I did take some still life shots because Bryce would be happy that I’m taking photos.

Open Gardens Victoria - Ridgefield - Coldstream, Yarra Valley

Chatting with a work mate last week, I shared that since the lock down had lifted and we could go further than 5k from our front door, I’d been to the Heronswood Digger’s Garden at Dromana and was looking forward to going to an Open Garden in the Yarra Valley on the weekend. He looked at me like I had two heads and said he couldn’t think of anything more boring. I looked at him aghast and then remembered that his idea of a good time is walking around a manicured lawn whacking a little white ball and hoping it goes into a hole instead of landing in the bush. Needless to say, we won’t be hanging out on the weekends anytime soon.

I follow Open Gardens Victoria on social media but haven’t actually been to any of their Open Gardens until now. As soon as the Roadmap out of lockdown had a viable end date in site, I headed to their website and booked to see whatever I could on that weekend. They had several gardens to choose from but Ridgefield got my vote. Up in wine country (added bonus) in Coldstream in the Yarra Valley, I was there with my partner at opening time (10am).

The garden did not disappoint with 1.2hectares of gorgeous landscaping and views in every direction. I suggested to my partner that if he loved me he’d buy me something similar. Having grown up in Toowoomba in Queensland, the Garden City with an annual Carnival of Flowers and prize winning gardens galore, I thought it would take a bit to impress me. Well, I was impressed. Bloody marvellous.

Ridgefield

So many bloomin gorgeous roses, in every colour imaginable.

Even the back of the house looked great.

I really needed to include something in the shot so you could get a sense of how big this flower was. Think about the size of a dinner plate! I’m not terribly blessed in the plant ID area but I’m guessing it’s a Clematis.

I felt like I was in Italy in the courtyard off the side of the mud brick house.

Ridgefield is a private garden so you can’t just rock up to check it out. You’ll have to keep on eye on the Open Gardens Victoria ‘What’s On’ page to see when it opens again.

We chatted to garden owner Paulette who told us about the Yellow rose called Mother and Daughter that was planted as a dedication to her sister and niece who died of Cancer. Paulette just happened to have a bright yellow dress that matched the colour of the rose. It was a beautiful touching story and shows the significance and depth of meaning a flower can have. Paulette has a host of stories behind where different parts of the gardens evolved from (Roses bought to decorate a wedding that was hosted in the yard and then planted out) but there were many people vying for her attention so we meandered out of the garden and mosied on to meet friends at a winery for lunch.

There are expansive views in every direction.

Cloudehill - Diggers Garden in Autumn

Gardens, Friends and Photography

Set on a sloping site at the top of the Dandenongs, Cloudelhill offered up some spectacular autumn colour when I visited in between lockdowns in May this year. There’s a plant nursery and a cafe too so it’s well worth a visit. $10 entry to the garden (free if you’re a diggers club member). We got there on opening at 10am but if I had a choice I’d be there earlier for two reasons. 1. The Light. 2. Avoid the crowds. However, with a bit of timing you can avoid the crowds and even then, sometimes it’s good to include strategically placed people in the story. It’s not always possible to get the ideal light so you have to work with what you’ve got. Knowing how to work with shadows and contrast and dynamic range means a higher success rate and being patient and working with the variable Melbourne weather means if you wait long enough, something will change.

The garden offers something special all through the year so any time is a good time to visit. This visit was extra special as I went with my long time best photography buddy Bryce.

The photographers of the future are starting young and I’m loving the uniform.

A quick selfie in between people strolling past. Chuck the camera in amongst the rocks and set the self timer and hope for the best. Must admit the flip screen on the Fuji XT-2 really helps and was one of the key reasons I bought the camera. If you’ve got dodgy arthritic knees like I do, it’s essential. Of course, with more time I could have use the app on my phone to operate the camera but I like the old school hit and miss approach.