Imagine a place ...

Imagine a place where the wild westerlies still blow so strong that the trees grow tilting.
  Imagine a place where the native animals are so unique that there is nothing else like them in the whole wide world.
 Imagine a place where eagles soar overhead on the thermals that rise from our earth.  
Imagine a place that is stifling hot one minute and snow will be on the ground the next. 
 Imagine a place that you can feel safe and breathe the cleanest air in the world ...  Well I do not have to imagine as I already live here... Tasmania.

Tasmania.  The name its self can conjure ideas of what may be held within its mystery.  A place of wild, of untouched wilderness, of history and quirky places to explore.  Tasmania .. say it .. enjoy how it feels spilling from your lips with the respect it deserves.

It has not always been a place of happy safe families and warm cosy homes.  It has had a troubled past.   The native people, the traditional owners of this land being cast aside for the development of a white settlement.  The struggles they have undertaken to keep their dignity amongst growing criticism within our modern society.
The ghost of the convicts that were sent out to Van Diemans Land ( as it was called before being renamed Tasmania ) from the Mother Country on ships that took months to arrive, for committing a crime no less than stealing a loaf of bread. The struggles they faced being in such a remote wild freezing place I can not imagine.  
 I have discovered I have 2 convicts within my family on my mothers side.  Where once you would never have admitted to convict heritage, I will proudly say I come from convict stock.   These men, women and children must have been a tough breed to retain some dignity amd move on to settle this unknown world.


The weather in Tassie ..  as we affectionately call it ... will most likely show a tourist that it is possible to have 4 seasons in 1 day.  To be lying at a beach on the sunny coast, swimming in the crystal clear waters,  only to have further down south, snow falling on the mountain that stands guard over our capital city like a mother protecting her young. To always think ahead when choosing clothing.  It is a good idea no matter how hot it seems to take a coat because you never know when that freezing southerly wind that has whipped up from the Antarctic might suddenly pay an unexpected visit and chill you to the core.

We are a state of produce that will rival any other county.  We have beautiful rich red and brown soils that remind you of the deepest smoothest chocolate you can imagine.  We have water so clean that it is sold through out the world.  We have the ability to grow vegetables and fruit at a rate that ensures we will never fall short.  A deep relationship with the soil and what it provides flows through the veins of most.

Our Summers.  Well when they are good they are fantastic but there are some that we all would rather forget in hope the following year brings those sunny days of our childhood once again. 
 We do have days of extreme heat and bush fires are a common occurrence.  You can smell the fires before you see them.  That unmistakable aroma of burning Eucalypt leaves and that crackle from the underbrush, as our native wildlife scamper for the safety of their burrows if they are lucky enough to have one.

Winter.  Oh how I do love winter.  To be able to snuggle up in a warm bed.  To watch the flames of a wood fire dance in the evening light.  To be able to wear big thick cosy clothes that make you look like a woolly mammoth but keep you warm against the chill of the day.  Those Crisp frost mornings, which when a child, I would run around in before school seeing how many frozen puddles I could break before returning inside to the warmth of my home. They usually bring with them the promise of a clear blue sky day that makes you feel glad to be alive.
 The snow on the mountains shining from afar like silver hats on a giant, but still able to feel the cold winds that are blown towards the coast with a mighty force.  Seeing all the animals rugged up in their winter coats, fluffy and divine, with icicles hanging off their whiskers as the day again breaks over Tasmania. Oh how I love winter.

Autumn and Spring are a true combination of both the warm and the cold.  Both have lovely hot days when you say to yourself " Ahh its going to be an early summer or late winter".  Both share the desire to wrap our land in heat and chill.  Autumn is the time when all our gardens shut down and prepare for the cool days ahead.  Spring is when our flowers start to pop their heads out again with renewed vigour for the promise of warmer weather.  They are both great.  I love having 4 seasons.

We have some of the oldest trees in the world.  An ancient history of worlds gone by.  A wilderness unsurpassed by any other.  Rainforest's that drip the sweetest water and beaches that you can be the only one on for miles. Mountains that can take your breath away and coast lines that are so rugged that many a fisherman has lost his life while trying to navigate its raw unkempt perilous terrain.  It is pure beauty, pure majestic nature at its finest.

Tasmania has been a place many visitors think that they only need 3 days to see it all.  How wrong they are !!  It is a place that needs be be taken slowly.  To be savoured like a delicate wine and enjoyed like a good cheese from the local markets.  It is not a place to rush around and leave with an idea of it was all done in three days.  It takes time.  I guarantee it will get under you skin and leave a mark to remember like one of the leeches that will likely feed on your blood if you stand still too long.

We do not have two heads as some other states might like you to believe. I do not purchase clothes with an extra neck hole.  We do not have devils that swirl around in a cloud of dust destroying all in their path, but yes we do have a Devil ..  A marsupial of the highest regard.  An animal so endearing that my dream is to raise a baby even if for just a few days.  A creature critically endangered due to a disease that will eventually kill them slowly and painfully.  A Tasmanian Devil. The only reason they are called Devils is because the first settlers upon hearing their screams and fighting believed they must be the devil its-self to make such a terrible noise.  It is an amazing sound. A deep gutteral voice that echos through the under growth as they feed and fight over the latest piece of carrion they have come across.  They do not like to share.

So I encourage you to take a step out of your comfortable domain if you live in this state. I encourage you to step foot on this hallowed ground if you are from afar.  To breathe that sweet air, to drink our clean water and to feel that chilly wind that is at this moment whirling through the trees outside my window. 
 We are  lucky, very lucky to live in a place of such beauty and unmistakable natural wealth. I sincerely hope it will stay this way for the generations to come but first we all need to see what lies beyond our front door and truly believe in what we already have.

                                          
                                                  
                                                                   Pics by Me !!

              Cheers Dilly xx.