Wanderings by road and track
I remember her then. Checked wool shirt of the kind favored by bushwalkers and outdoor types. Warm wool trousers, dull khaki in colour. Petite wire framed glasses balanced on a delicate nose. Blonde hair tied back I’m bunches. Chunky leather boots. Pack on back.
THE MAN ON THE END STALL is selling longans—fruits whose hard, brittle skin you break with your teeth before chewing the juicy white pulp off the large black seed. At $8 a kilo, you are presented with a piece of branch with the tan, centimeter-wide fruits dangling from it. Clearly, these fruits are freshly picked.
HOW DO YOU ACCOUNT for the different way that life turns out for people, even when they share much in common?
Story and photos: Russ Grayson
TO JUDGE BY THE SIGNS on farmer’s market stalls, food grown locally seems to be something of a specialty at Evandale market. A recent visit disclosed sign after sign on a number of stalls advertising the localism of fresh vegetables, herbs and fruit.
SYDNEY HAS ITS PIGEONS and Coogee its seagulls. The Royal Botanic Gardens is plagued with those long-billed, food-stealing ibis and flights of flying fox (fruit bats) that have devastated trees there. But in Launceston they really go for the megafauna when it comes to urban wildlife.
CAUGHT BETWEEN rapacious extractive industry on one hand and the sublime beauty of nature on the other, Tasmania remains a paradox in the Australian political landscape. Now, there’s something else to add to the offshore contradiction that is this southern island state—Launceston’s air.