Claudelands Jubilee Bush

I am loving my life in Hamilton, very glad to be here getting to do all the interesting things I am doing. But at the same time I long for the Daintree. My body craves it, my heart aches for it, my soul dreams of it.


My skin itches for more humidity, my ears crave the sounds of the birds and frogs and insects of the forest, my eyes seek the green complexity of a triple canopy. Thank goodness the weather is still warm or this spate of tropical homesickness might be unbearable.


There's lots of lovely green places to walk in Hamilton, my beloved Gardens of course, the banks of the Waikato River and the lake which is hosting a hot air balloon festival this week. But its all very groomed. It's hard to find anything approximating wilderness. And then I remembered Claudelands Jubilee Bush, just round the corner from my place.

On a particularly melancholy afternoon last week I took my camera into the bush and let myself really notice its specialness. It's not tropical rainforest, but it is a little bit of lovely wild. And its the first forest I can remember. Our family used to come and play in this bush, back before it was fenced and weeded and boardwalked.

Kahikatea berries (I think) on the boardwalk

It's probably a lot more healthy and authentic than it was thirty-five years ago, over run with Tradescantia. It was a magical mysterious dimly lit wonderland for our imaginative games. I'm pretty sure I populated these particular roots with fairies and elves when the tree and I were both a bit smaller.

Fairy village