Veronika Wild

This year it's about fire and crosses It’s cold. It gets dark at 4.30 and it looks like rain but David Walsh, father of Mona has done it again, abruptly drawing us out of our comfort zone, both physically and mentally. Last year it was the public butchering of a bull which caused outrage, though no doubt it goes on out of sight in our abattoirs every day. This year it is the emphasis on crosses – the lurid red upside down ones in the city and the burning ones at Dark Park.   Mike Parr , the performance artist who last year occupied the Royal Derwent Mental Hospital, has this year had himself buried underground in Macquarie Street (one of Hobart’s main arteries) for three days. I am pleased to hear that he has a heater and a thermos as a Hobart winter is cold enough without spending it underground. A blaze of torches greets us at the solar cross We – that is my daughter and her temporarily extended family and I, braved the elements last night to explore Dark Pa

A Winter landscape - Mt. Field It’s official. It’s winter now, but yesterday was our first fine day in a while. Or at least that’s what the weather bureau promised, so my long suffering walking buddy hauled me off to Mt. Field.   It was still overcast and gloomy as we made our way up the narrow Lake Dobson Road, but suddenly we were above the mists and in the most beautiful alpine wonderland. Little pillows of snow lay on the moorlands and the mountains beyond carried a delicate dusting of snow. Curiously it’s not at all cold and there’s not a breath of wind.Yes, we may have missed the fagus this year with its glorious autumn display and we’d missed the summer wildflower show, but don’t think there’s nothing to do or see, just because it’s winter.  Sunlight breaks through the fog, Lake Dobson Road, Mt. Field National Park Once the showier plants have gone, you notice more subtle things such as the colourful trunks of the Snow Gums, the fresh greens of mountai