Chapter 281: We look and see wonderful sights. Where did they come from?

Tasmania is an island with many acres of enticing and alluring native bush. Attracting people from around the world.

Because of Covid there are no tourists coming to Tasmania.

However the government has a plan.

The government says: The people involved in the tourism industry are suffering. Let’s help them.

The government says: Holiday locally.  Visit the places everybody else travels miles and hours to see.

I say: Its school holidays. I can’t leave the state.  The government. My government wins the argument.

We find ourselves (three generations) in one of our national parks. Not a wilderness area. Managed native bush.

After unloading our bags we reconnoiter. Surrounding our huts are dark, brooding, drooping trees. They have dark bark. They sway and dangle hanging wet leaves. The trees are mysterious and haunting. The background for the trees is a wandering mist and a blue sky.

 

Grazing wombats, pademelons and wallabies prefer the grassy areas so they can eat it. The animals much, chew graze and wander on. They are quiet. We stand just as quietly and watch them grazing, munching and chewing. Unfortunately they are not frightened, wary or concerned about us tourists. Signs abound saying please don’t feed the animals. Domestic food will habituate them and kill them.

The animals fascinate and mesmerise us and we take multiple photos and say: The tourists would love them.

A black currawong lands on a dark mossy branch. Fully awake and alert. Shiny beak dominates as he curiously looks for his next snack.  An unlucky insect is about to finish its life in the large powerful and impressive beak of a lucky currawong.

 

We encounter others and all agree. We are lucky. It is a wonderland. Beautiful. We all agree we wouldn’t have come here except for this cursed virus.

 

Next morning the virus has changed breakfast. The buffet has been cancelled. My grandkids are not unhappy. They then prove they know a lot more than I did when their age. Unlike the other side of the window they don’t have to look, scratch and fight for their food. All they have to do is speak to the waiter.

Kay: I’ll have pancakes with maple syrup and cream and strawberries.

Me: What about blueberries?

Kay: Yes blue berries around the edge.

My mind wanders to the windows. Outside the bush subsists and survives and continues as it has for eons. Animals and birds are having their breakfast. The bush awaits us.