The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it which the merely improbable lacks

This photograph could be one of a number of things.

It could be something boringly predictable, like a public art installation that ruminates on the impact of climate change on Antarctica. (Both Tasmanian artists and visiting international artists have a rather dreary tendency to focus a little too much on environmental themes in public art displays. At any given time, you can find DOZENS of gallery showings musing on man's - yes, usually that reductive - negative impact on mother Earth.)

It could be discarded snow cones piled high in the wake of the Winter Festival. (Tasmanians love eating snow cones whenever you can see snow on Mount Wellington. MILLIONS and MILLIONS of snow cones are eaten in the winter months, the most popular flavours being penguin, fur seal, southern right whale, and good old fashioned lard.

It could be a bunch of firecrackers set up in readiness to celebrate the one hundred and thirtieth anniversary of the Treaty of Berlin, which famously recognised the complete independence of the principalities of Romania, Serbia and Montenegro and the autonomy of Bulgaria (Tasmanians are very keen on commemorating various aspects of eighteenth century European great power diplomacy, you see).

Personally, I thought that it might be a secret Smurf Ku Klux Klan meeting (in their child-like made-up language, they call this a 'klonvocation'). But upon deeper reflection, it does seem that charter members of the infamous KKK would in most likelihood be less than welcoming to a bunch of 'fairy flouncing foreign coloured folk who endorse a communistic lifestyle' like the Smurfs. (Also, there is no Klan activity to my knowledge here in Tasmania.)

Which leads me to the only conclusion that I could with any certainty come to:

THIS!