Sherbooke Forest, Dandenong Ranges National Park

I have always been fond of Sherbrooke Forest. We used to drive through it when I was younger to friends in Monbulk, and then when I was older, a large portion of my friends lived in Belgrave, Monbulk and surrounds, and we spent some time in amongst the trees, valleys and hills.

This time when I went up there with Liz, I took the trusty digital camera. I figured it was a nice day, and I could get some good shots, and try and capture and convey what sensations are triggered by being up there.

Sherbrooke Forest is pretty much bordered at the north and south by Kallista and Belgrave, respectively. It encompasses most of one year-round creek valley and the watershed around it. Walking around requires a certain amount of up and down, from the creek valley around to the peak and back again.

As soon as you get away from Grant's picnic ground (the only building and carpark in the area... they sell bird seed for the rosellas that demand to be fed.), the sound slowly dies away. The smell of ashphalt, gravel and exhaust fades, to be replaced with the earthy smell of forest ground. Looking up, your eyes try and follow the trunks of trees that seem to climb into the sky. Looking at these gums tends to give you a sense of aeons past... which is probably false, given the tendency for Australian bushland to be burnt to the ground every 20 years or so. Gums grow fast.

Much of the path is overhung with treeferns or low trees, especially wherever water is still above the surface during the hot summer. These areas smell wonderful, a rich, loam smell, coupled with the trickling sounds of a small brook. Of course, these areas are also the home of mosquitos, which is less picturesque, and more, bluntly, a pain in the arse.

The path we are following (apparently a 'nature trail') leads up out of the creek bed, and Liz and myself start to suffer a little, mostly because we are unfit. Its nicer up here in the hills than it would be in Melbourne - they are usually about 5 degrees cooler, which is noticable when you are slogging along, carrying a camera.

As the ground slopes upwards, the vegetation changes from ground-hugging and shady, and with that changes the smells and sound. The cool, moist air moves around a little, bringing a duskier smell, probably from native bushes. The bugs change - exchanging mosquitos for butterflies is definately an improvement.

I've noticed a big difference between Australian native and imported trees... more a tendancy than a rule. The european trees seem to not grow extremely tall, but they are thicker and wider, cutting all the light out to the ground underneath them - oak and elm trees, for instance. The natives tend to grow tall, but thin, letting a lot of light down to the underbrush. Its a weird sort of perception, anthropromorphising trees, but it does feel like the natives are more 'friendly' than the non-native trees. It was a grove of rather thick set trees that reminded me of this - blame them for my insanity.

That whole perception is reinforced when we get to some of the clear areas on top of the hills. I suspect that the area used to be farmland of some sort, because clear spaces in the bush don't usually get this big naturally. Plus there are a lot of non-natives around the area. I'm torn when it comes to non-native vegetation. Some of it is psychopathic when its dropped in an area with nothing to control it - blackburies for instance. Others are less obviously destructive (see above about blocking light to ground). Yet part of me insists that the native stuff has to either adapt or die. Anyway, the inspiring image - a mix of native and non at the top of one of the big hills in Sherbrooke.

I always expect the top of the hilly areas to be clear, letting in a lot of sunlight.. and I'm always fooled by the dappled sunlight which covers the path. I'm starting to get to an area which I know fairly well, having come at it 'the back way'. I suspect this grove, in the midst of all the clear areas up here, used to surround the house that I suspect used to be here. Yeah, I know - I speculate a lot about the past. I think that we forget far too quickly - and we forget the simple things, that in 50 years, people will go 'wow' about. (I just got a map, dating to sometime around 1960, and went 'wow' at it a lot - its amazing how much Melbourne has grown in 30 years. But I digress.).

I'm downloading these pictures to home one at a time, as tifs. Its taking a little while, so I'm writing a paragraph or two about each one as it finishes sailing through the ether. I keep talking about the 'cleared areas' without knowing where my photos of it are. I'm sort of hoping the next one will be it, or the next. I tried to take some photos of a rosella, but it was camera shy. Part of the reason that I like to come up to the hills used to be the wildlike - living in Mulgrave, the only wildlife I encountered was birds. Up in the hills, I have seen lots of possums, an echidna once and a stack of wallabies. I guess now that I'm living in an area where I've seen native water rats, owls, flying foxes, ring and bushy tailed possums and hunting birds, the wildlife is less of a pull. And believe or not, I now live 10kms closer to the city than I used to.

Finally! I can show you what I am referring to. The size of this space is hard to judge via the photo, but it is about 200 meters by 300 meters, and is mostly native grasses. Its an odd space in the otherwise thick forest, which is what makes me think it was once cleared. We used to come up here for picnics and other outdoor events. Basically the area is one big field, with one or two large trees in the middles. And a burning off mark. Not a bonfire mark, no. ...

The breeze coming off the field carries with it the light buzz of bees. Its an odd sound, but a strangely suited one. Other insects buzz back and forth across the grasses, followed fairly quickly by birds, looking for a meal. Stopping to take the photo means stopping the chat Liz and me were having, and the birdsong takes up the gap quickly. I can identify some of the birds, but no where near all of them. Sometimes my lack of education catches up with me and it feels a little appalling.

Tired now, and heading downhill. Start running into people again, which is a bit irritating, but only to be expected, given that it is school holidays. People (as a group) irritate me a lot. Unthinking and loud and rude, they are also getting in MY WAY! </selfmock> We actually nearly got collected by a little girl, running at 2 steps too many - she went sprawling on her face, and liz used up her maternal insticts for the year making sure she was ok. Kids run past yelling and screaming, people ask us if we have seen their kids. So much for serenity and calm. It doesn't stop us eating devonshire coffee¹ when we get back though.

Panoramic view of Grants Picnic Ground