I’ve been on my Dad’s farm the last few days – I don’t know what you think of when you hear the word ‘farm’ but I wouldn’t mind betting that you’re not picturing the dry Downs! Six thirty every morning brings  fingers crossed that the ABC weather forecast mentions rain (knowing full well it won’t), cries of currawongs and lowing of cattle plodding up the hill in search of sunlight, and it’s time to go out and fill the water troughs – having been woken by the thump of possums dropping off trees onto the iron roof for their usual four-thirty scuttle-about. So, for some, ‘farm’ doesn’t bring to mind chickens and lambs and crops in the fields, it’s a bit more like this:

However, a short (by Australian standards) drive away are the Bunya mountains; we lived here once, too many years ago to mention! This is the only Bunya Pine forest in the world, and a walk through here gives a very different view of this part of Queensland (apologies to my father, I wanted to show the scale of the trees!):

Some of the bunya trees are over 150 feet tall and still have the scars of foot-notches used for climbing them to get the bunya nuts for food – if you’ve never tried one, the trick is to bake them and scoop the soft inside flesh out; it tastes a little like hazelnuts. The day we went there was a small bushfire a little distance away and the local (volunteer) fire service were stopping anyone venturing too far. It’s sad to be told that a lot of bushfires are started deliberately here – why would anyone want to destroy this unique landscape?