Our day of rest didn't eventuate. The rain eased off and we decided we needed to catch up with some gardening at Dilston. During the time we were away in Deloraine, the grass grew and grew to the point where a slasher was needed to get it under control. The job now is to rake up the cut grass, mow where we can and whipper-snip where we can't.

For the first time since moving to Dilston, we had the delight of hearing cicadas in the eucalypts. It seems there are 8 species of this creature in Tasmania, several of which are exclusive to this state. The most interesting of these is the hairy cicada. What a glorious thing to discover on the first day of a new year! An ancient species with an evocative name.

Madi tells me that the local birds have been feasting on the poor cicadas and, while we were raking up grass today we noticed masses of silvery wings obviously spat out by over-full magpies.

The whole episode brought back memories of hot childhood summers in Wollongong and the incessant noise of the cicadas, walking under the gum trees and being rained on by the water excreted by the beasts. We looked for green grocers and floury bakers and the rare black princes, which we firmly believed were sought after by some laboratory in Sydney which would pay us if we could collect a boxful. Ah, the innocence of youth!