A HALLOWEEN TALE

 

The Devil's head rests on a riverbank rock.

A precipitous path winds down the face of honeycombed cliffs. Unseen marsupials and mysterious serpents have left tracks in the sand where flesh-eating beasts retire to their lairs. Cockatoos the colour of death perch in dry branches. Through a break in the forest canopy far below you catch a glimpse of water. 

The rock wall to your left is eroded and crumbling. For millennia onslaughts of water and wind have weathered the soft, golden sandstone into extravagant caverns and hollows, creating a fantastic place of wonder. Shapes shift with the shadows, becoming faces, giant figures, impossible animals. 

Nature Walk - oil on canvas 91 cm x 122 cm

When you reach the valley floor it is cool and dark, a tangle of moss-covered boulders, fallen trees, hip-high ferns and trailing lichen, rotting logs, earth-stars and unfamiliar fungi. This is the Bluff River Gorge. Supernatural creatures, spirits of tree and river and rock, haunt this place.

I laid out my canvas on All Hallows Eve, when ancient beings emerge to commune with the owls and microbats and Tasmanian devils, and painted a picture of what I may have seen.

And the Devil's head? I found the little polished ivory skull once as I was crossing the river. After admiring it, I placed it back among the rocks in its bed of soft green moss. On my next visit, months later, skull and moss were gone, washed away in the winter floods.

*High quality limited edition prints of this painting may be ordered from Nolan Art Gallery, Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart   https://www.nolanart.com.au/

Bluff River Gorge

Bluff River Gorge is one of Tasmania's best-kept secrets - unless you're a bushwalker. I've walked in there several times, but today was the first time I remembered to take a camera. These are the results.

Morning tea before tackling The Gorge

Et in Arcadia Ego

and this is where it fell from . . . 

It's a bit of a hike to the top of the gorge, a steep path down towards the Bluff River, then a nerve-wracking traverse along the gorge. And it's worth every minute, alternating between awesome and aaaagh, depending on whether you look up at the incredible sandstone formations or down at the sheer drop to the Bluff River, far below.

 I would have taken more photographs, but in most of the really spectacular places I was too busy hanging on like grim death to pull out my camera. It is not a particularly difficult walk, but there are plenty of places where the path is the width of your boot, loose sand or slippery moss, and there's not much between the walker and the water far below.

the river far below

 The day was fine until lunchtime when we were hit by a violent squall that sent everyone scrambling into their foul weather gear. As soon as we set out again the sun reappeared so we stopped to take our jackets off again. Tasmania has such humorous weather.

 We scrambled over and under fallen trees down to the river, hoping to walk back along the other side of the gorge. "Why are we going this way, if it's further than the direct route back to the cars?" a Prospective Member asked. Because we're a walking club - it's what we do . . .

 The river is not very wide, but it was flowing very fast and the stepping stones were submerged boot-top deep. There was some discussion about whether we should cross, but the day was finally won by those who were not in the mood for wet feet, and apprehensive about the second crossing we would have to make further downstream. We turned back.

to cross, or not to cross?

along the bottom of the gorge

Now things got a bit confusing. Some people who were well ahead missed the turnoff up the hill. There was a good deal of coo-eeing echoing up and down the gorge, with half the walkers waiting at Octopus Head, where we'd stopped for lunch earlier, and the rest climbing the next spur and following a fire trail back in the right general direction.

Coo-ee - where are you?

reunion

It didn't take long to make contact and establish where they were and we assured the Prospective Members that losing half the group was not a usual occurrence. They didn't look too worried.

We returned to the cars tired but happy and the day ended with the usual picnic. Thank you to the walk leader!