January 10, 2014 at 07:23PM

I camped for two days at the top end of the valley where the Eucumbene River flows in wide, gentle curves across the flat bottom land, between banks of alternating sand, mud and stone, before widening into Lake Eucumbene. When I arrived and drove down the slope from the elevated camp site to the valley floor, it seemed to me that I had entered some kind of Eden. On either side of the river the valley floor is quite flat for one or two kilometres, before rising to timbered hills, with even higher timbered hills behind them. To the west the highest hills are entirely cloaked in the silvery grey trunks of dead trees which are all that remains after the blast furnace of the fires that swept through much of this area several years ago now. The last time I was through here, also some years ago, there was nothing green up in those hills. When I drive higher up into the ranges it will be interesting to see whether this has started to change at all. (Update ... There are some young trees and small bushes so the whole area is having to start from scratch) At the moment the lake itself is fairly low. The Eucumbene River, sometimes moving silently between the curved banks of rich soil, at other times running pleasantly across a bed of stones is the centre of focus in the valley with its cool alpine waters and, of course, this is trout fishing country up here. There are plenty of insects of all kinds flying over the river and the swampy gullys. I stood beside the river and three small insects with perfectly white wings hovered besides my head for several minutes while I was taking photographs. Something that looked like a giant mosquito, the size of my eyeball, flew straight at me veering a way at the last second ... and I ducked my head as well. Later I saw one feeding on the flowers of one of the grasses here so I don't think it can be a mozzie. Dozens of kangaroos feed in the gullys and swamp lands in the bottom of the valley and you come across them at any time if you wander up and down the tracks alongside the river. The sight of a mother kangaroo hopping away, followed by her Joey, who often hops a little higher to be able to see across the tops of the high grasses and hidden gullies, is a common sight. I woke this morning and watched as about eight kangaroos hopped past my swag on their way down to the valley floor. I saw some wonderful sunsets on both evenings and took plenty of photos for about an hour or so either side of the sunset itself. The feeling of wide-open spaces and the sense, however true, that people haven't left much of a mark on this landscape is exhilarating. The extended views across and down the valley with flowering grasses and bushes along the valley floor is a delightful scene that I gazed at for hours, watching the kangaroos feeding and the light change through the day. I hope to have some photos for you soon.