Just a short distance from The Grotto (my last post) is a large billabong teeming with wildlife and plants such as these water lilies.
From a comfortable, shaded platform you could relax and watch the lily pads bob up and down on the water. The word billabong is thought by some to be of aboriginal origin from the word “bila” meaning river. The watering holes are believed to be the result of a river changing its course and leaving behind a stranded pool, which is replenished by rains during the Wet Season. (In certain areas of Australia, only two seasons are recognized: The Wet and The Dry.)
After visiting the library (my last post), you can stroll by either side of the Yarra River that runs through the city…
or take a walk down to the Docklands, an urban harbor district, still under development.
At night, you might walk 360 degrees inside the top of the 975-foot-tall Eureka Tower and see the lights sparkle in every part of the city.
And finally, you can photograph the city from your apartment.
The docklands area of Melbourne, Australia, is a former shipping port which fell into disuse because its docks were not able to handle large container ships. Today it is becoming a lively place with a new stadium, trendy apartments, and innumerable restaurants.
The descent into Weano Gorge, in Western Australia, was steep. But at least the endeavor did not require climbing down a vertical ladder, as some did, which would have been very hard to do with a camera and tripod.
After hiking down, I enjoyed photographing more red rock and reflections in pools.
The side of the gorge was lush with native vegetation.
The morning light brings reflections of floating clouds in a salt marsh bordered by a rusting fence and framed by rolling hills on the Isle of Skye, Scotland.
This railroad trestle over the Connecticut River in Vermont is just a stone’s throw away from the location of my previous post. The tranquility of the afternoon with only a slight breeze stirring the water makes it hard to imagine a train rumbling through.
Clouds roll by and a slight breeze ripples the water. Otherwise, all is quiet along this stretch of the Connecticut River as it makes its way down through Vermont. In a while a train will rumble through, breaking the silence; but soon it will be gone, its whistle barely audible in the distance.