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2. After fire

While bush fires can be devastating and very frightening, Australian plants have adapted to fire, they regenerate and often use fire to germinate their seed.  I have taken shots soon after fire to watch this miracle of growth go on.

This banksia has used a fire to open its little mouths and spit seeds into the nutrient rich ash below.


  1. Absolutely fantastic! I've seen a few documentaries about this but your find truly amazes me.

    1. It was taken a couple of weeks after a big fire went thru Mount Hay a wilderness area. I have lots of wonderful shots taken that day and some taken months after to show how the regeneration was progressing. That was some years ago ... I must go out there again some time to see how it looks now. The vegetation recovers provided there is not more fire too soon after.

  2. Now this is something I don't see every day, living in the suburbs. I love how many Australian plants have such fascinating shapes.

    1. After fire everything is down to its skeletal shapes ... I think that is one reason why it is so fascinating for photographers.

  3. The colours and shapes are gorgeous, Joan. That alone the regeneration process ...

    1. It's the "red lips" which surprise me in this photo. The regrowth around the burnt stumps was also red which set off brightly against the grey ash.


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The end

I retire from the workforce this week and to celebrate have decided to retire my current blogs and start afresh with a single consolidated blog - My Bright Field - to record the delights of my new life adventure.
If you are interested follow me over there.  I will still be Sweet Wayfaring and collecting Royal Hotels.  The delights I discover along the way will appear together with my gardens and towns where I live.

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Having finished the circuit at the zoo we settled down for a nice lunch at the cafe. This chirpy little blue wren came close to our table while his brown wife Jenny jumped playfully on the grass. Nesting swallows swooped in an out of the rafters.
Musing:The Blue Wrens and the Butcher Bird by Judith Wright
"Sweet and small the blue wren
whistles to his gentle hen,
"The creek is full, the day is gold,
the tale of love is never told.
Fear not, my love, nor fly away,
for safe, safe in the blackthorn-tree
we shall build our nest today.
Trust to me, oh trust to me."

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up to the nest and down again,
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until that crystal note they hear
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