Wiradjuri for bulrush is Baaliyan. Yes, it is getting late in the season for water games. You know how people are. You tell ‘em something and they just keep talking. Onset of cold weather doesn’t match a rush into the ‘bull paddock.’ This is especially so if the said ‘paddock’ is the pond system at Elizabeth Park.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Every year the bulrushes (Typha domingensis), Cumbungi or Baaliyan need culling back so our waterways don’t clog up. Bit late this season; getting a bit cold.
The question is, am I a lone nut case, or have I enticed others to pull on the gum boots and wade into the deep?
So far I have talked to a plumber about fixing a busted water fountain, requiring a semi-swim.
The control method is called ‘cut and paint.’ Call it ‘cut and paste’ if you like. All the same to me. You still have to brave a plunge into the pond with secateurs, a pot of herbicide, and a narrow paint brush.
In summer you let evaporation lower the pond level for a low cut.
This time of year I dress up in waders (plastic monstrosities comprising boots, leggings, high waist with bib ,and click-on straps), often more associated with late-night television documentaries about salmon fly fishermen in the freezing wilds of north Scotland. Crazy people, those fly fisher people eh?
I strap on a secateurs pouch and immerse my legs, always on the look-out for any strange black-lagoon creatures lurking in the reeds. I’m on edge, if you know what I mean.
Escape is cumbersome. If a snake came spiralling toward me I’d have to panic. I believe they swim as if jet skis had a snake patent.
The bulrush Baaliyan was used by Aborigines for basket-making and ropes. The rhizome root system could be dried and made into a kind of flour. Underwater they join-up, making removal by hand-pulling near impossible. If they do release you get splattered by thick pond clay.
They grow some 2 metres high with flowers crowded into a 15 cm long spike like a cylinder of cinnamon brown velvet.
When ripe they break open to shower me with a cloud of thistledown.
Pioneers used this for pillow stuffing. I have to wear a dust mask. An eerie sight with the sun glinting off air clotted with white mist.
Frankly I’d rather hold a sane reputation by dreamily gazing into the pond as I casually chewed mixed nuts from a packet.
You know, Peanuts, Cashews, Brazil nuts, Almonds, and Hazelnuts. And plenty of salt please.
That would be more clever and comfortable compared to what the nuts in the pond have to do.
