Yass Firewood Supplies, Yass.  And bagged kindling and bagged coal.

A timber jinker.

Firewood.

I am all for community activism but in my opinion this is just faux green martyrdom by selfish, self-important baby-booming chardonnay socialists and their over-indulged progeny.

Surely this comment is wide of the mark! On line comment to the Herald on the subject of fig trees. 

 

Interior. Shiver me timbers. On the wharf this proud old building acts as an arty venue.

Hans Christian Andersen is a celebrated figure in Copenhagen. 
His tale, The Little Fir Tree spake to us via a green theme.

 There was once a pretty little fir tree that grew in a sunny corner of the forest. It didn't notice the warm sun or the forest air or the children playing because it was very anxious to grow-up.
 Each year the tree grew wider and it wished it was taller and it wasn't pleased about the birds, the clouds or the snow and only wanted to be bigger and older. In autum the tallest trees were chopped down and in spring he asked the birds if they had seen where the big trees went. He heard about boats and masts and wished he were big enough to be a mast.
"Rejoice in your youth," said the sunbeams.
 Towards Christmastime, young trees were cut down and the fir tree wondered about them. The sparrows said they had seen them adorned with beautiful decorations and candles and were a wonderful sight . The fir tree was excited and wondered if he was destined for a splendid future.
The air and sunshine said again,"Rejoice in us and in your fresh youth." But the tree took no notice.
 The following Christmas, the fir tree had grown tall and was the first to be cut down.  The axe cut deep and felled the tree which was a little sad at leaving its home. It was carried to a house and placed in a luxurious room. It trembled while every branch was hung with gorgeous objects and candles. It thought if only it was evening and the candles were lit or would all his old friends come from the forest to see him now and over the years to come
 The candles were lit, the doors opened and a crowd of children rush in and shouted, danced and snatched off all the presents. Later,  the candles went out one by one, the children were given permission to plunder and push the tree around, then they turned away to play with their toys instead. Then story-telling began and the tree thought that he would end up in a story and be decked out again next day and enjoy the excitment once again.

 However, next morning, the servants dragged the tree to a dark corner in the attic and left. The tree reasoned he would stay there over the winter to be replanted in spring. He became lonely except for the mice who thought that the forest must be the best place in the world when they heard his stories about it. Fir tree said that he didn't realized how happy he had been in the forest.
 One morning, the servants threw the fir tree to the floor and dragged it outside. He thought of the future with joy but realized his branches were dry and dead. A child was playing and tore off the old gold star fastened to the top and stamped on the branches. The tree saw how it was no longer green or fresh.
"Too late, too late," thought the discarded tree. "If only I had enjoyed more while I could. Now all is over and gone."
 The servant cut the tree into small pieces for the fire. The logs crackled while they burned. With each crack, which was really a sigh, the tree was thinking of a summer's day in the forest, or of a star-filled winter's night, it thought of Christmas Eve. Soon the old fir tree had become nothing but a heap of ashes.
Hans Christian Andersen. The World's Best Fairy Tales. Ed by Belle Becker Sideman. Illustrations by Fritz Kredel.  

McRae family circa 1862 Winda Woppa signage.

A bit, sort of, about Tea Gardens and Hawks Nest has been an idea for a while. However, the topic has, sort of, been gazumped (which is of minor importance) as the area happens to be getting publicity lately. Round the time of visiting there, a very upsetting incident of cruelty and neglect was publicised and my interest in Hawks Nest was shelved. However, although I am not an/a historian or a writer, some facs about the genealogy of Tea Gardens and Hawks Nest will be set down here.
Prof Steffen Lehmann of University of Newcastle, tells us about maintaining a sense of memory when it comes to Heritage. Heritage cannot be reproduced, he said. Yes, new work or renovations can be so perfect that they looks phoney. It is interesting to hear him put a name to the impression that is found, namely 'disconnected from place' when places all turn out looking the same with a loss of what's local and a loss of identity.
The prof will lecture at the City Hall tonight at 6pm on .....Sustainable urban growth.

Maintaining a sense of memory, the Pioneering Poles: stilted figures, still and isolated, kith and kin of the timber trade, watching the seen. Rediscovery of the family, after decades, has led to this embedded wooden group and what did they saw?
Industry and noise, work and play, sore-dust, saw-millers by the shore while the tree rings out, clawed into the saw blades.
Ancient, noble timbers, sequestrated carbon, shipped away, now found prostrate on an Indian rail line or lining a building in England.

Remnants of a jetty with a load bearing capacity licenced to carry a white see-gull and its brother. The story board tells of the pioneer's household and the planting of pine trees which maybe those tall trees in the background.

The patriarch pioneer was only 14 years old when he arrived from Stroud in the UK and began the timber trade. Eventually, three vessels were used to transport timber to Sydney. Timber work ended round hundred years ago and the family changed to the fishing industry, on up to the present day.
The twin towns of Tea Garden and Hawks Nest have seen amazing treasure on their waterways.

On higher land around the district, away from the lakes in the rainforest brushes, red cedars were felled. From Karuah to Mount George and Gloucester down to 12 mile Creek timber getters worked away.

Around Winda Wopper the timber mills were fed by loads carried by Droghers or steam driven punts. The mills became steam driven. Taylor's mill at Winda Woppa was large and was there till 1953. The Booral Company began thereabouts.

Hardwood was another treasure which was in demand with the development of railways and was shipped out to India. The axe men became expert at producing lots, such as, 1500 rail sleepers each week - by hand. Pavers were made for London.

Steam locos came into use in the Myall to carry the timber and workmen travelled ontop of the rolling stock - that is, massive logs on axels and wheels - and they controlled the long load using ropes and leavers in daring feats. Footage is recorded in old movie of a train thundering downhill. Tall timbers by Ken Hall in 1937 is one such film. Timber works operated around the Myall lakes and beyond.

The information is from a local historian who is with Parks and Wildlife.

Picture below: The singing bridge links Tea Gardens and Hawks Nest. Before this was a ferry which crossed where the concrete slab is shown.

Older federation timber houses are in the township and development is changing the scene on the banks of the waterway and estuary of the Lower Myall River with the Myall lakes 18 kilometres upstream.
A classic little old weekender is shown.