a heritage of ‘bad, bad, banksia men’

Posted on Updated on

Wattles (acacias), banskia and pandanus are fixtures on the headlands and beaches where I walk. Even though it is winter these natives are covered in flowers.

a wattle in full bloom

The wattles foliage is so thick that trunks are hidden behind masses of elongated, yellow flowers and pale, oblong leaves. Banksia exposed to the wind are twisted and bent, they hunker down together like a football scrum creating sheltered copses and nooks for the birds and kangaroos.  Those growing in the lee of the headland grow tall and strong flouting their independence. The most prolific type has pale, green/silver leaves and either yellow or orange flower heads, each made up of hundreds (sometimes thousands) of tiny individual flowers grouped together.

The pandanus have a tenacity that I admire. They drop their seed onto dry sand where it is picked up and flung by the tide to new destinations. The orange seeds whither and turn brown but can retain their ability to grow for years. When conditions are right they take off with vigour, as they gain height they rise like skyscrapers, supporting their top-heavy branches by sinking exposed roots into loose sand and small crevices between rocks.

silver leafed flowering banksia

These plants are common to the entire east coast of Australia, they are like old friends that have accompanied me through life.  When I was a child my sister and I played in the shade of pandanus that fringed the beaches we visited on camping holidays, just as my own children did on hot summer days near the beach where we lived.  Wattle trees grew in my parent’s garden and later in my own garden and were a favourite with the native birds. Banksia have been a constant fixture on all the headlands and bush walks I have enjoyed and played an important role in my seduction into the world of books.

In the literary tradition of Australian children I grew up with May Gibbs Snugglepot and Cuddlepie, a wonderful creative story about gumnut babies, talking lizards and most notably the, ‘bad, bad, banksia men’.

May Gibbs book Snugglepot and Cuddlepie
the tree slide
one of the ‘bad, bad, banksia men’

2 thoughts on “a heritage of ‘bad, bad, banksia men’

    beebeesworld said:
    August 19, 2012 at 8:40 am

    What an interesting piece on Australian landscape!Thanks for reading my blog and my Legacy story. If you aren’t following it, I hope you will consider doing so. I will follow your blog and see what else you have in store! beebeesworld

      margosnotebook responded:
      August 20, 2012 at 1:41 pm

      thanks i am enjoying creating this space and hope there will be things of interest

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s