Samphire Part 2

I'm back. Yes, it only seems a moment since I left. Where are we? By the river, heading east amongst the yellow flowers.

But now there's a bend in the river. We're heading south, still following the narrow trail along the river's edge. Here it looks a little dangerous. Is there anything under this path? Probably not. And you wouldn't want to fall in, would you. Mind that grey thorn bush, with the deadly sulphurous glow.

On the other side of the river are some fenced-off fields and under a line of trees in the distance a row of white beehives that turn out to be pelicans.

Now I suppose you expect me to know the names of some of these trees and bushes. I know, but I can't tell you which is which. There are Pink Gum, Red Gum, Blue Gum, Grey Box, Peppermint Box, Mallee Box, Golden Wattle, Prickly Wattle, Sheoak, Native Pine and Feral Olive to name a few. What's that one? That's what I want to know. It looks like discoloured broccoli growing out of an exploded newspaper. And that one? I don't know.

We've been walking long enough now, time to head back to the estuarine mudflats where I shall impress you by knowing something after all. Come on.

See all this greeny browny succulent stuff with red tips? This is called samphire. There are two types of samphire that grow here, Grey Samphire and Black Seeded Samphire. And guess what? You can eat it. Steamed or like a salad. In your dreams.

Now we're back at the wooden steps. We're crossing the empty oval. Now were at Britain Drive with the dead aloes, and the rather new houses. A couple are sitting high on their patio drinking tea. Here's the playground. Full of kids.