About 25 minutes south of Michel’s pad lies Myrtleford. It has both a river and a creek so I searched sightings in that area for dragonflies. There were a few that looked potentially interesting and our hosts mentioned some lunch spots that sounded worth a try. So, particularly as there was a handy-dandy car park beside the creek, off we set.
The dragonflies weren’t scintillating but there was one worthy of note which cooperated. This is a Stout Vicetail (Hemigomphus heteroclytus). I find some of these genus names a bit odd; “Hemigomphus” means “half a gomphus”, really. It looks pretty whole to me. 😉
Myrtleford used to be a major player in Australia’s tobacco-growing industry. It lasted, I read, until 2006 when it finally collapsed. Nearby the car park was a preserved old tobacco drying shed providing some architectural and historic interest.
We wandered off towards the big river but the only usable access point was taken up by a family or two with dogs running and splashing in the water. All was not lost, though. Back in the bushes that lined the pathway was a pair of Superb Fairywrens (Malurus cyaneus), the male of which admirably demonstrates the reason for the common name.
There is a curious artwork beside the main road running through Myrtleford. It’s a root system and chunk of a fallen River Red Gum Tree and is called The Phoenix Tree ‘cos it depicts a Phoenix rising from the ashes, which actually look more like flames to this self-confessed artistic numbskull. It’s also called a sculpture that was “created” by the artist so I assume some of it was carved, though it all looks pretty natural. Maybe that makes it a clever artwork.
It must be lunchtime so we went off to find one of the more interesting eateries. We chose the Café Fez and sat in the open front, complete with finely misted water as open-air-conditioning, a trick out of Arizona’s book, enjoying a mixed platter of mezze. Very acceptable.
The café is surrounded by what I can only describe as an enormous bazaar full of eclectic stuff that looks fascinating but which you’d never know what to do with, unless you were a contract interior designer, perhaps. Just click through some of the categories.
Francine’s sis-in-law turned up in the afternoon – she’d hitherto been up in Sydney on some art-related distraction. Drinks were in order.
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