We can only learn to love by loving.

I won't give away the answer, but my clue is that today's photo is of a ship berthed down here in Hobart ALL winter. It doesn't have the nerve to tackle a REAL Antarctic experience and sail about with right and proper icebergs. Word on the street is that they are set to leave on a vital and top secret mission designed tohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif end the scourge of global warming!

Yes, they'll be measuring penguin farts.

Time for the Sunday Top Five!

Today I am tackling my Top Five Australian Birds!

5: Galah;

4: Emu;

3: Kookaburra;

2: ~~Fairy~~Little Penguin;

1: The Splendid Wren!

Comments

Roddy said…

Do you think that the Aurora stays at home to avoid marauding whales? Nothing more dangerous than a protective mother.
You managed to leave out your favourite bird. The Corella. Do you remember Stanley?

4 October 2009 at 09:56

Anonymous said…

lol. Measuring penguin farts. Can't think of a better occupation.

I love kookaburra!

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,
Counting all the monkeys he can see, Stop, Kookaburra, Stop Kookaburra,
That's not a monkey - that's me!

4 October 2009 at 14:09

Lisa said…

first comment on your blog. new follower. love your photos. love the stories and words with the photos. I think inside my teacher body/brain is a photographer secretly coming to life and ready to see the world with a new eye. thanks for sharing. Lisa B.

4 October 2009 at 15:35

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, I hate Corellas.

6 October 2009 at 11:22

Kris McCracken said…

Yoork, Kookaburras are quite gamey.

6 October 2009 at 11:22

Kris McCracken said…

Lisa, good to see you here!

6 October 2009 at 11:22

Carola said…

And Kris I like Boobys. The awesome seabirds.

7 October 2009 at 08:51

Kris McCracken said…

Carola, what a coincidence, I like boobies too!

;)

7 October 2009 at 11:54

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

This will hurt me...

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