Let’s talk about the weather

A new page is coming soon, I promise! But while that is still in the wings, I thought this would be as good time as any to talk about the weather. Can anyone remember when it last rained? I can’t either, but according to the Bureau of Meteorology’s records, it was the 19th of July.1

Daily rainfall data from the Bureau of Meteorology (station 040913)

Daily rainfall data from the Bureau of Meteorology (station 040913)

That’s 45 consecutive rainless days, with more likely to come (the current forecast for each of the next seven days is “Fine, mostly sunny”). For the most part, the lawns and trees around the place aren’t looking too parched just yet — no doubt thanks to the relatively good rainfall we enjoyed during the first half of the year. But there are some clear signs that the landscape is drying up. A really good example is the pond straddling the bottom of Norman Buchan Park and the Government House grounds. Here’s what it looked like back in October of last year:

The pond on the Fernberg grounds

The pond on the Fernberg grounds (Government House), October 2011

The pond by the culvert under Baroona Road at Norman Buchan Park

The pond by the culvert under Baroona Road at Norman Buchan Park, October 2011


And here’s what it looked like as I passed by this morning on my way to the markets (note that I did not take these with a before-and-after comparison in mind, so the angles are different to the previous photos):

The pond at the bottom of the Fernberg grounds, 2 September, 2012.

The pond at the bottom of the Fernberg grounds, 2 September, 2012.

The pond at Norman Buchan Park, 2 September, 2012.

The pond at Norman Buchan Park, 2 September, 2012.


On the Norman Buchan Park side, there is but one small puddle remaining, while on the Fernberg side the water level has dropped significantly. How long before it dries out completely? I’ve been told by one keen observer that this pond did not completely dry up even during the millennium drought, which lasted from around 1997 until 2009.2 If that is the case then it seems likely that the pond receives water from a source other than the surface drainage from the surrounding hills. One possibility is that it is fed by an underground spring. This theory is lent weight by historical anecdotes such as J.C Heussler’s letter to the Lands Department in 1864 describing a permanent spring nearby, and John Oxley’s discovery in 1824 of a chain of ponds in the area in the midst of another severe drought (see here and here for more about Heussler’s and Oxley’s reports).

I hope the current dry spell does not last too much longer. But if it hasn’t rained before next Sunday, I’ll be sure to have another look on my way to the markets.

Notes:

  1. I’m not counting the 0.2mm that was recorded on 20 July or 1 September. These data are available from the Bureau’s web site.
  2. See here and here for some more information about the drought.

The moon, the drain and the diving bats

I haven’t found the time to do any real research recently, so I thought I’d post some photos instead. I took these back in January and they have been gathering virtual dust on my hard drive ever since. According to the SunSurveyor app on my phone, this was the last time in a while that a full moon would hover over Milton Drain at a low enough angle to catch it reflected on the water. Exactly why I felt the need to capture this event is a good question… probably something to do with seeing the beauty in an otherwise ugly piece of suburban infrastructure. At any rate it made for an interesting photographic challenge.

While I was taking these photos, I occasionally saw what looked like a flying fox (fruit bat) swoop down towards the water and emit a strange sound before skimming the water and flying back to a tree. It looked an awful lot like they the bats were fishing, but I thought that flying foxes only ate fruit. On top of that, I’m not even sure that flying foxes use echolocation (they have big, sensitive eyes instead). So, either they were doing something other than fishing, or they weren’t flying foxes at all. Any ideas???

Return to Cubberla Creek

The descent from Sir Samuel Griffith Drive, down to the tributary of Cubberla Creek

The steep descent from Sir Samuel Griffith Drive, down to the tributary of Cubberla Creek

Recently, I returned to the tributary of Cubberla Creek that I wrote about here just over a month ago. I was determined to see more of it than I did on the first visit. So this time, I approached it from the top, with the aim of working my way downstream. There is no path to this creek, so I just scrambled straight down through the scrub from the side of Sir Samuel Griffith Drive, not far from the Kuta Cafe on the top of Mount Coot-tha. I soon discovered that this was a pretty dumb idea, and for one simple reason: lantana.

The path I carved through the lantana that covered most of the stream

A path carved through the lantana that covered most of the stream

Whoever introduced this infernal weed to this country has a lot to answer for. More than a few times, I wished it was them instead of me getting scratched to pieces as I slashed my way (with a stick!) through the thickets that covered nearly the whole length of this stream. So it was tough going, but it in the end it was worth it for the pleasure of discovering the few beautiful pockets of the creek where the lantana did not intrude. In fact, pausing in these places was all the more rewarding given the work required to find them, and knowing that in all likelihood, no-one else had stood in these places for some time (surely it can’t be that often that a fool like me stumbles down here).

Anyway, this time I made a point of taking my camera, so I at least have something to show for this little adventure besides smartphone snaps. You can see some of the results above and blow, and there are more in this set on my flickr page. Something that interests me about this creek is the way that it abruptly ends when it disappears into a drain under the residential blocks at Ringway Place, Chapel Hill. On one side there is the creek in a near-natural state (if you can ignore the lantana), and on the other side is suburbia, in all its sanitized glory. They are two different worlds, and yet they were once the same.

A pond in the Cubberla Creek tributary

A pond in the Cubberla Creek tributary

Seeing the past and the present in the same view like this is not so easy in Western Creek — except perhaps up in the headwaters near Tristania Drive, but let’s face it, even here you’ve got to use your imagination here to see the creek sometimes. Wouldn’t it be nice if just a little bit more had been left for us to enjoy?

The bird on the fence by the pond

A waterbird sitting on the fence by the pond at the bottom of the Fernberg grounds

A waterbird sitting on the fence by the pond at the bottom of the Fernberg grounds

I walked past the pond at the bottom of the Fernberg grounds today and saw this bird sitting on the fence. It looks familiar but I have no idea what it is. I’ve never seen this sort of bird around here before.

It let me get surprisingly close — within a couple of metres. Even at that distance, this is the best I could do with the camera on my phone. Though it stayed in the one spot on the fence, it frequently moved its body, occasionally stretching out its long neck. When I finally got too close, the bird flew down into the pond, and proceeded to dive over and over again, seemingly combing the bottom with its beak, looking for things to eat. A very able diver, it reminded me a bit of a platypus.

It’s nice to know that this little restored remnant of Western Creek holds an attraction for wildlife in the area.

So… does anyone know what sort of bird it is?

The Mystery of the Cubberla Creek Campsite

Today I went up to the summit of Mount Coot-tha. It was another glorious, cloudless winter day, and while I did spend some time looking out over Brisbane while enjoying an ice cream, my main objective was to explore some of the walking tracks that begin from the summit and lead in various directions into the bush.

The Caladenia Creek

A small creek near the Lookout Trail leading from the summit of Mount Coot-tha towards Caladenia Street, Indooroopilly.

A small creek near the Lookout Trail leading from the summit of Mount Coot-tha towards Caladenia Street, Indooroopilly.

The first track I took was the Lookout Trail, which starts at the bottom of the carpark leading up to the cafe. After first following a gentle slope, this track quickly plummets at a perilously steep angle down towards Indooroopilly. The slope then eases again and the track heads along a slight ridge. To the left lies a residential estate, and to the right, a gully leading down to a rocky creek bed. The track and the creek then converge and come to an abrupt end top of Caladenia Street. The track gives way to a bitumen road, and the creek is swallowed up by a large drainpipe running beneath the road.

Where the bush becomes suburbia and the creek becomes a drain at Caladenia Street, Indooroopilly.

Where the bush becomes suburbia and the creek becomes a drain at Caladenia Street, Indooroopilly.

I’ve spent considerable time wandering around Western Creek trying to imagine what the landscape looked like before it was developed. It’s not easy to do, because so little bushland is left there except for a few patches around Government House and around Tristania Drive. But here at Caladenia Street, the before-and-after comparison couldn’t be easier. The past and the present are conveniently juxtaposed, divided neatly by a straight line. On one side there is the bush and creek, more or less as they always would have been; on the other side is the modified suburban landscape, bearing absolutely no resemblance to what it replaced.


Where the forest meets the suburb, at Caladenia Street, Indooroopilly. View Larger Map

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