I realise this posting is being published on Christmas Day, and that Australians do not expect to see snow – however I have seen snow dusted on the top of Mt Wellington above Hobart on Christmas Day. I guess that is one of the surprising possibilities when we wake today.

Back in September when I visited the south west of Tasmania, the weather was typical of springtime in our wilderness.  On the first morning at the Pedder Wilderness Lodge, when I drew back my blinds everything outside was lusciously wet.  Quite quickly I noticed white blankets on mossy green verges, and covering the ground between spring flowers. 

Snow. I was delighted.  I looked at the cars and they all carried some snow.  (I know I know I know that northern Americans and northern European followers probably don’t count this as snow at all – but I see snow so seldom up close, that I am happy with a little).Then I realised the gentle sleety rain included floats of snowflakes.  Delicate.

Before leaving Hobart the Bureau of Meteorology had forecast snow down to 300 feet, with a 95% chance of rain.  So I was not surprised by the morning showing.   I know my friend and I had talked about this trip being a reconnaissance trip because of our expectation the weather might be too unliveable for any serious explorations.  But in rain and shine we never stopped for a moment and used all available daylight over the next couple of days.  We had the best protective clothing and so were ready for whatever the weather threw at us.

After breakfast I walked down to Lake Pedder amidst snowy flurries and watched the veils of clouds moving across the landscape and the Lake.   

Primeval. Raw. Ancient. Enduring but forever changing. Naturally surviving. Grand.