It's a Matelock Moon and the Marri is flowering heavy

It's a full moon and, last night, I watched it rise over the Rugged Ranges, these days known as the Stirling Ranges, but known by many other names by the Noongar who lived under the shadow of it's array of solitary peaks. The sky was shaded mauve and malachite in the still singular air of the Great Southern, the Minang region of the south west. There is a deepness of hue in the air just after dusk on still clear days here that is uniquely captivating.

The Matelock moon marks the commencement of the gnurri season, these days misnamed as salmon. These fish come in schools, chasing schools of pilchards on the edge of the surf breaks on beaches and bays open to the Southern Ocean. On the seaward side of the Quaranup peninsula the surf line off the beach is broken by a small island, Mistaken Island. On this beach in March 1830, Mokari and Collet Barker walked along the shore following the salmon until they were close enough for Mokari to leap into the waves and demonstrate his prowess with a fishing spear.

This year, Piroe, the two moons of December and January, has been a dry and hot. The Marri, Eucalyptus calophylla, is flowering spectacularly. The wildflower experts say it's the best they've seen for 5 years. It's widespread and heavy, from eprth down to Albany, her branches are drooping with white blossoms and birds and unexpected bounty. The vinyard owners are laughing because they've had no problems with parrots for the first time in years.

On the ground the bandicoots are getting thin while in the trees the possums are getting fat.

I'm told that old timers reckon it means that we'll have a good winter. We shall see.