Nature the Best Architect

Nature is the best architect and I don't rate at all. I planted this climbing rose ('Lady Barbara') and the Virginia Creeper in early Spring with the purpose in mind to hide an ugly fence. No thought given to the colour combination, but with the onset of Autumn, nature has provided  a nice blend.

How quickly are we changing our ways?

While gardening this morning, I dug up an old plastic supermarket bag. How do I know it's old? Certainly not by the condition of the plastic. A wipe with a damp cloth and it was as good as the day it was carried from the checkout to the car. I know it's considerably more than ten years old because it was buried in an area of my property that hasn't been disturbed in the ten years since I acquired it. In fact, when I moved to this place, it was apparent from the overgrowth that the area hadn't been disturbed for many a year before that.

Now, gardening always sets me to thinking. That's part of why I find it therapeutic. But this subterranean find gave me something to think about. Have a look at the proud claim made by the chest-beating grocery chain of the day:

On the positive side, some (former?) perpetrators of eco-vandalism have progressed from a world where credit could be claimed for saving resources and providing a use for previously used materials, to a world where some of them provide disincentives to the use of environmentally harmful materials - e.g. charging for plastic bags. But on the negative side, it's slow progress indeed. The other point worth considering is the seemingly indestructible nature of the material. If it's still in perfect condition after 10-20 years in the soil, how many generations is it going to be before it disappears - if ever?

What do Harvey Norman and South Westland have in common?

South Westland, despite being one of the world's most beautiful wilderness areas, is also one of the most remote regions of New Zealand.

So it's very unlikely that Harvey Norman will be opening a store there any time soon. Yet, today I discovered that Harvey Norman and South Westland have something in common: sandflies.

South Westland has swarms of the winged variety at certain times of the year. So much so that if you leave the safety of your vehicle without first slapping litres of insect repellent all over the exposed regions of your body, you're likely to resemble a baboon's backside the next day and be off work with an insatiable itch for the following week or two.

Today, I was a long way from South Westland, but I did visit a Harvey Norman store. A bad move on a Monday afternoon, which I suppose is just about the quietest time of the week for them. Therefore, swarms of hungry salepeople were descending on each hapless potential customer. I was there for eight minutes. I was approached by twelve different salespeople.

I prefer South Westland, where at least you can try to swat the sandflies away. In either instance, you can run for the safety of your car, which is exactly what I did at Harvey Norman.  

Tsunami Alert

New Zealand has been on tsunami-alert for the last 24 hours. There were some unusual tidal patterns during that time, but nothing to cause any damage or panic. I should think it served as a good test run for the Civil Defence organisation, which seemed to perform efficiently in monitoring the situation, disseminating information and giving appropriate warnings to the public.

New Zealand has a very long coastline, a half of it east-facing with no land barriers between it and the west coast of South America. The public here are well informed about the risk of tsunami following earthquakes in (or off) South America. Yet, incredibly, there were still those who ignored yesterday's warnings and blithely continued with their Sunday beach-walking, surfing and swimming. One fellow facing a television camera was asked why he was there. "Just having a look at what's going on. If anything happens, I'll run like hell!" he said, then laughed maniacally. Then there was the blonde bimbo in a bikini. "Well, there's so many warnings, y'know, an' nothin' ever happens, does it?" So many warnings? Well, in 60-odd years, I don't recall more than perhaps three or four tsunami warnings.

A couple of worrying things occur to me. First, how many more lame-brains are going to ignore warnings next time, knowing that no life-threatening tidal event eventuated on this occasion? Second, what sort of a message is being delivered by television crews on the beaches, themselves disregarding Civil Defence warnings for no other reason than to film non-essential interviews?

Big reward for little effort

For years, I avoided doing anything about a difficult little dry strip on the east side of the house. It was under the eaves, a long way from a hose-tap and the very ordinary soil was littered with builders' rubble. Then in early Spring a few wildflower seeds came my way, so I lightly forked the area over and threw them in. Now I'm thinking it was well worth the twenty minutes' effort I put in.

Wildlife in the bathroom

Look what greeted us in the bathroom this morning!

I think it's one of New Zealand's 70 something species of native weta which apparently made its entry overnight through a partly open window. I really would like to think its appearance is due to my "no spray" regime in the garden over the past three years and that this is evidence of my garden becoming home to an ever increasing amount of insect life. Alas, I fear that is not the truth of the matter (although I'm sure the insect population is increasing). I think this handsome visitor probably hitched a ride on a trailerload of firewood that my neighbour brought in from a forest in the country and parked in his driveway overnight. It has been released gently and lovingly amongst some rhododendrons. Perhaps it is bearing eggs and will populate the garden with its progeny!

For the record, the body is about one and a half centimetres (three quarters of an inch) long - a mere miniature compared with some of the giant species in the New Zealand bush.

...and still the bee doth toil

Late evening in my garden.

The wind doth blow, the rain doth fall, and still the bee doth toil.