I didn't take my puffin with me on my latest excursion, he's in disgrace. The sadistic little bastard deliberately ignored my safe word and by the time I had picked the lock with my teeth muscle spasms had set in and certain items were lodged in certain places. At least I gave the staff at the ER a story to tell their friends (although probably not their children). I might have accepted his apology if he hadn't been laughing all the way through.
So my next journey was solitary. It's probably all for the best as he would definitely have got into a fight with the peacocks. In keeping with the "tours of random green spots I've seen from the train" motif of my recent travel I decided to go and have a look at the Duck River. The Duck flows through the high rent neighbourhoods of Auburn, Granville and Clyde before falling, battered and defeated into the Parramatta River in the general vicinity of Silverwater. The train I catch to my parents place crosses the Duck and I have often noticed the rather insalubrious ooze making its way through the industrial areas of the aforementioned suburbs, the murky waters fringed with trees that exhibit a certain amount of astonishment at still being alive.
Duck River hit the news earlier this year when its water turned a pleasing purple colour. Nobody seems to know why but we are assured that there was no danger to any of the bird or fish life in the river. This news was greeted with some skepticism by those of us who couldn't believe there was any bird or fish life in the river. It is good to know that if there are any they are totally fine with a purple based interior decoration scheme.
After my experience with the Alexandra Canal I didn't really expect to be able to walk along the river but while conducting research (googling "Duck River") I discovered that not only was there a Duck River Walk but that this walk was apparently convenient to the Auburn Botanic Gardens. I also discovered that there was an Auburn Botanical Gardens. There and then I decided I would travel to Auburn, wander through the gardens and cap it with a gentle stroll down the river. I detailed this list of exciting activities to my puffin but he just muttered and struggled against his fetters.
The day was cool and cloudy when I left home and by the time I arrived in Auburn (not really too far away) the day was stinking hot and humid. Leaving my hat at home was a poor decision based apparently on a fleeting trick of the weather.
I am bad at reading maps. Specifically I am bad at reading google maps. Thus it was with a tremendous sense of personal achievement that I guided myself from Auburn train station to the Botanical Gardens with only a couple of hysterical swearing fits and no more than half a dozen changes of direction to compensate for earlier, misguided changes of direction. Having arrived at the gardens I spent another ten minutes trying to find a way in.
My experience with botanical gardens is limited to Sydney's and Singapore's both of which it is fair to say are on a different scale to that on display at Auburn. Nevertheless for the most part Auburn has made the most of what its got. I entered through the Japanese garden which was very pleasant. I'm not entirely sure any Japanese tourists would see it as a welcome slice of home but it was pleasant nonetheless. It was centred around a lake which (like all the water in the garden) was a bizarre aquamarine colour. I'm sure there was a reason but I couldn't find anybody to ask. It didn't seem to bother the fish or the birds disporting themselves on it. I suppose once you've dealt with purple aquamarine is perfectly acceptable.
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| I think this is a goose. Or a duck on steroids. |
As I've noticed before the presence of greenery seems to drop the ambient temperature by a couple of degrees at it was pleasant to wander about the trees (some of which in a nod to the theme were Japanese maples) and popping into small vaguely oriental looking shelters along the way. I ate my lunch in one of these while some children stared with rapt fascination through the vision holes that had been cut in the wall. The most immediately obvious sight through these holes was a bird that had obviously collided quite violently with the final stage of the "cycle of life" so beloved by the Lion King. It was lying in the foreground while a colony of insects were enthusiastically "returning it to nature". I went back to my seat where I had a vision of a thoroughly alive lizard (or a very good animatronic mock up) that was shading itself about six feet from my chosen dining location.
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| This lizard moved just enough to make me unsure as to whether it was real or not | . |
With lunch completed I made my way over one of the little decorative bridges that permitted me to gaze down into the eyes a large fish that was staring up at me in an expectant fashion. There are signs telling us not to feed the animals but I get the impression the fish might get out of the water and beat us up if we obeyed them. I shouldn't have been surprised at the fish of course. You can't have a Japanese garden without a water feature stuffed with morbidly obese goldfish.
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| Honestly is this a natural shade for water? |
Next along on my trip was the pool of reflection. it was more like a trough than a pool but I presume its the thought that counts. Also due to the amount of pollen and feathers floating on the surface there wasn't very much reflection happening. On the plus side it was the only water in the park that wasn't a vivid blue-green. Along the way I passed a peacock posing photogenically by the side of the path. I obligingly took a photo and then had to pause while the peacock presented its best side and took the photo again. The results pleased both of us and I was permitted to continue my journey to the trough of reflection.
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| the damn peacock made my retake the photo three times to ensure I got his "best side" |
After finally escaping from the peacock and spending an obligatory thirty seconds reflecting I made my way (journey time thirty seconds) to the scented garden. The scented garden was small but a pleasant olfactory experience. Have you ever walked through the perfume sales area at an airport duty free zone? The atmosphere was much the same but was enriched by the absence of smartly dressed women with bright smiles and hollow, dead eyes desperately trying to sell you perfume. After inhaling for what I felt was a socially acceptable period I wandered along to the sunken rose garden. This was the only disappointment. Possibly I had come at the wrong time of year but I got the impression that the rose garden had sunk under the weight of its own shame. There were a handful of desperately scraggy roses that looked like they had chosen this location to crawl away to die. On the other hand there was a very handsome crow lurking about the outside. I say crow, I got the impression he doubled as garden security.
From there I passed to the Australian bush section which included a "billabong" also in a vivid shade of aquamarine. I'm pretty sure the Jolly Swagman didn't camp by something that looked like a lake of listerine. Should anybody wish to correct me at this point and say that such colouring is perfectly natural and I am displaying my ignorance they may do so with impunity, I don't really care.
I rounded off the Garden visit by dropping in on the fauna centre. Here they had rounded up a handful of native animals and dropped them into a fenced enclosure for the amusement of passers by. There were wallabys, betongs, wombats, cape barren geese and of course peacocks. Not really sure what the peacocks were doing there but they seemed to have the run of the place. They turned up in pretty much every enclosure regardless of what was supposed to be there and as noted earlier turned up outside the enclosure as well. I saw a sign saying "cape barren geese" and literally standing next to the sign was a peacock. Some kids are going to go away very confused. I did manage to see a cape barren goose, it was sort of standing in a corner gloomily aware that it was overshadowed by the peacocks. I took a photo of it out of sympathy.
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| Let's face it cape barren geese aren't the most exciting of birds |
Then I took a photo of this because, well damn...
and then this
which is the same peacock but from a more, er, "accessible" aspect.
As I walked away from the enclosure I heard a single gunshot as the cape barren goose put an end to its misery. I was reflecting on the prevalence of peacocks (they were literally everywhere) in what was supposed to be an Australian fauna display and was so engrossed in this that I almost walked face first into an emu. For the record an emu has got to be at the top of any list of things you don't want to walk face first into. I recoiled in surprise (and survival instinct) while the emu sneered at me with dumb insolence. If you think an animal with a beak can't sneer check out the next photo. Also I'm pretty sure that the term "dumb insolence" was only fifty percent correct.
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| Not something you want to meet head on |
I stared at the emu nervously for a moment while it stared at me contemptuously. Fortunately there was a fence between me and it. Unfortunately the fence certainly wasn't high enough to stop the emu beating me to death on the spot if it wanted to. Essentially the owners were relying on laziness to overcome malice. I skirted around the emu while it mocked me with its gaze. Then it turned its attention to the next visitor, a woman who thought it was a bright idea to reach out a hand as if to stroke it. I fled before her screams got too bloodcurdling.
Having spent an enjoyable couple of hours wandering around what was essentially a collection of plants held in captivity the time had come for the actual purpose of my trip. Duck River awaited. It would wait a little longer as I tried to figure out how to get to it. The river actually flowed behind the botanic garden but getting to it seemed a little more problematic. Eventually by leaving the garden and crossing the river via a road bridge I wound up on the other side of the river and apparently close to the Duck River Walk. I say apparently because actually accessing the river was surprisingly difficult.
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| My first view of the river, also my only one for a while. For the record this is Auburn |
When I first decided to check out the river I was prepared for failure. Since the river flowed through housing estates and industrial areas I fully expected a lot of it to be blocked off. But when I heard of the Duck River Walk my assumption veered in the other direction and I anticipated a path through remnant bushland beside the river. As it turned out I was wrong or I had picked the wrong path. The path was a sealed walkway that ran along houses on one side and the aforementioned remnant bushland on the other. The river was definitely there somewhere but it wasn't actually visible from the path. Also the path itself wasn't continuous which meant I found myself in much the same situation as I had with the Alexandra canal, walking down streets in a heavily urban environment in the hopes of finding access to the river eventually or at least another part of the walk.
I did eventually find the walk again and there were a couple of occasions when I was able to make my may through the undergrowth to the rivers edge. Despite the inevitable plastic junk it looked surprisingly idyllic. Water birds (or at least water adjacent birds) fringed the edges and while I didn't see any fish there were hopeful bubbles rising to the surface so I could at least convince myself that there were fish in there somewhere.
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| Fleeting glimpses of the river were all I got |
On the other hand I did manage to walk past the Turkish Cypriot-Australian Friendship Association and the Burmese Christian Association headquarters within five minutes of each other. It was Saturday and both appeared closed. In the patches of walkway that did exist there were signs announcing the fact and the significance of the trees as the last survivors of various species that our ancestors had swept from the earth a century or two ago and invited us to watch out for the male superb fairy wren which has beautiful blue colouring and, as I discovered, is very difficult to photograph. Signs also invited us to watch out for snakes. A picture of a snake was helpfully provided. It looked like a special needs caterpillar.
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| This is, I think, a male superb fairywren. Or possibly just a random bird |
Despite the absence of immediately available river I perservered walking besides endangered trees and plunging riverward whenever it looked like the undergrowth was sufficiently scanty to minimise the dangers of treading on snakes or superb fairywrens. In contrast to the flighty fairywrens the other birds didn't seem to mind their pictures being taken or possibly, since I was on the other side of the river, they just didn't notice me.
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| I feel obliged to toss in the occasional river photograph |
My journey along (or at least in the general vicinity of) the Duck River came to an end when the path ended and various industrial buildings stretched very obviously down to the river. Fortunately I was also very close to Clyde railway station so I hopped on the train and went home. I may have embellished my accounts of the river when speaking to my puffin on arrival.
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