Hmm. The slashers have been through the gasworks site and now the window panes have been repaired on the old admin building. This is a good thing – I’ve been worried out the way the beautiful old Newcastle Coke and Cole Company office, in its centenary year, has been falling to rack and ruin. So why don’t I like it?
Pure self-interest, I’m sad to say. It’s private property but I do like to let Jambo run through the gaps in the fence to chase the rabbits. It’s such a privilege to have a wide open space in the middle of the city, a space that isn’t regulated, manicured and subject to dozens of stifling minor by-laws. So I suppose that Jambo will lose his play area soon, and it’ll be back to the creek for the both of us.
Speaking of which. The creek normally looks pretty chipper after a good flow but this morning it looked horrible. On Sunday morning I saw this large, weird-looking object bobbing around, just out of reach.
I was hoping that it might be full of used $100 notes but disappointingly it was foam chips, the whole big bag blown away or escaped from some packing factory. I couldn’t get to it; truth is, I didn’t try very hard. The thought of humping a bag of foam chips all the way home and to the bin didn’t seem like it was worth the Good Citizen points I’d earn. Though I felt terrible this morning when I saw that it had either burst open or been kicked open by kids. The whole creek was littered with foamy snow and the water glowered at me accusingly, muttering “You could have prevented this!”
So to cheer myself up I’ve posted a few unrelated Hamilton North pics. These are all ones that have been floating around on my camera for a few days waiting vainly for a relevant topic to come into my head.
My “go to” man for all things natural, Max Elliott, suggested that this poor critter is a Limnodynastes peronii (Striped Marsh Frog to you and me). To hear his call, go to the gasworks on any wet night or follow this link to the Frogs Australia website.
It’s funny when you see one train pulling another train out of the UGL site.. as if one train is dead, lifeless and helpless. Away from the provision of overhead electricity supply.
True! My father-in-law was a dyed-in-the-wool steam loco man, and electric trains were even lower down the evolutionary scale than “diseasals”!