Menootanaboot; Continued Discovery

Last week I began to relate some of the adventure Mac1 and I had on her visit here. What? You missed it? GO BACK! 

After enjoying the tranquillity of the interior of Holy Trinity church, we were met as we exited by another of the congregation. "Geoff" told us he was the assistant to the rector... and proceeded to regale us with a potted life history and his journey to God. It revealed itself to us that he has some form of dementia (by his own telling). He was sweet-natured and clearly delighted to have some listeners, and as the sun was shining and the air soft, we afforded him that for a good 10 minutes. It was he who confirmed what we suspected - that there had been no working party to tend to the grounds and surrounds pretty much since 2020, and he and a couple of others do what they can to at least keep the grass under control. 

Parting ways with our meet-and-greeter, we then wandered around the grounds, finding one of the purported two war graves to offer our respects and admiring many of the ornate and unusual markers to be found there. Notable were the wrought iron items, inset with stone and a plinth with a sundial. From here, too, there was a lovely aspect of the building itself.

Returning to the car, we were ready for our picnic, but stuck to our guns and drove the twenty minutes around Holy Loch to the Kilmun Arboretum. I have shared with you things about Kilmun Historic centre before (see recent visits with Aitch). I had never visited the arboretum before, so this was another discovery point that afternoon with Mac1. It was undoubtedly assisted by the very pleasant weather. And apart from close to the end of our visit as the evening encroached, we managed it with no midgies either!

There are a few different paths to be taken - but my mobility limited our visit. Even the short yellow route proved problematic - we walked the top side of it but had to retrace our steps, as to complete the circle would have meant my risking sliding down scree and undergrowth, and these days, all that this engenders within me is an image of a broken hip or cracked skull! My adventurous side is now naturally curtailed.

It didn't spoil the enjoyment of standing under the towering redwoods, beside the Himalayan pine, Noble pine, Douglas fir... eucalypts. Yes! Some of my beloved country resides here, well-rooted as I too have become. Treading on the fallen leaves released the oh-so-familiar smells of the Aussie bush, and my heart thumped stronger for the memory.

The yellow trail is named after John Jackson, who was head forester for this and Benmore Gardens for many years. There is also a memorial tree for him planted here.

I am, again, withholding several images to be used in future Tuesday posts... and this was only day one of Mac1's visit. More to report next week!