Time Tells

I just have something to talk about that is a bit off the beaten trail. I hope it’s not too boring for you guys.

For Easter this year I drove through Kinglake to get to my friend’s farm. Two and a half years ago most people would not have known Kinglake and now how could you not know it. I didn’t know very much about it, only that it was one the way to my friend’s farm.

My first real experience in Kinglake was Wednesday 11^th February 2009. We had heard that they needed horse people to help vets assist burnt and injured horses. I travelled up the mountain with my friend and a bushfire survivor. Everything was black. The smell I cannot explain. Trees stood as skeletal silhouettes. The ground was hot through my boots but the air was chilling. There was no green. The fire had come so fast and strongly that some birds where still in the trees, burnt of course. It looked like the end of the world. I ended up working with the RSPCA and small animals that day. We were given areas by landmark (the street signs were piles of ash) to go carefully into properties and search for peoples pets that were missing. An SES crew member said “Okay, guys it’s really important you don’t look too closely, some of these places haven’t been searched yet and we don’t want you to see anything you don’t need to”.  I found 2 cats, a red heeler and a goat alive. The red heeler sat on my lap the whole way back into town shivering, the tips of his fur where melted and his paws burnt.

I drove through last week and the trees are just not what they were. The bush is trying to regenerate. The burnt outlines of eucalypts are covered in new shoots of intense green, the juvenile foliage one day to become the canopy. I am amazed how it has changed. Each time I drive through the region my first reaction is ‘wow, look how much it has grown’ but then I get to the Kinglake West post office which is still joined with the milk bar, and it’s still a portable in a service lane. When I get here I think about that red heeler. It just shows how long it's going to take to restore this place.

My Mont Albert

Hi, I am Liana and welcome to my blog. I hope to focus on my area, a little place that I call home. On the eastern side on Melbourne along the train line, where cobblestones line the roadside borders of almost every street and beautiful old trees tower up and cascade into the canopy creating archways of colours, textures and patterns is a small suburb called Mont Albert.

‘Monty’ as it is sometimes locally referred to, is nestled between Surrey Hills and Box Hill. In days gone by the somewhat elevated theme ran throughout these neighbouring suburb titles. Originally called Mount Albert until the development of the new train station was unveiled where the sign was spelt incorrectly. Rather then changing the signs, it was agreed that the suburb should be adapted to the signage of the railway. So Mont Albert it was and Mont Albert it has remained for over 100 years.  

Winding through the sweeping avenues up hills and down around corners, Mont Albert shares its charm (and post code for that matter) with Surrey Hills. Deciduous trees create picturesque frames lining the grass verges. In autumn a tremendous array of canopy foliage erupt with natures finest colours.

The hub of this quaint little suburb is Hamilton Street. This is the site of Monty’s very first shopping centre. An assortment of shops including the local newsagent, greengrocer, butcher and cafes are situated along this small stretch of road. A very popular place amongst Monty residents.

I guess the main thing I love about Mont Albert is that it is home. It is a nice place to be. Neighbours still chat over the fences and kids play cricket in the street. It is a place where people take pride in their space, where their gardens matters as much as their houses. Garden folklore sweeps across the suburb where passer-bys will ask a lady in her front garden how she gets her roses so stunning.

This is my Mont Albert.