220 CLEARING GLADDER’S ony by CECILY DUNNE T WASN'T GOING to be much of a holiday. Mum and Dad were too busy to get away — again. Aunty Bub was sick, so I couldn't go and stay with her at the beach. Looked like Td have to stay at home for the whole holidays. Boring! It didn’t used to be so bad staying at home for the holidays when old Mr Gladder was alive. He used to keep the vacant area between the backs of all our houses spick and span, mowing the grass, cutting back the trees when they got too bushy and cleaning out the pond that sat right in the middle of this litde park. Iustrations by KERRY MILLARD All the kids from the houses that backed onto the park used to play there then. The big boys used to bring their cricket bats and balls and the little boys used to catch tadpoles in the pond. The big girls giggled and played on the swings that old Mr Gladder had put up one summer, and us little girls played with dolls under the trees. I was much younger then, of course, Just look at it now, I thought, as I leaned over the back fence. What a mess! Nobody played there any more. The grass was long and straggly, and Mr Gladder’s swings had fillen over ages ago. ThereAugust 2003 were branches that had been blown down during the storm we'd had a couple of nights before, and the pond itself. . . Well! The water was scummy and smelly and stagnant. Weeds grew all along the edges and people had dumped bottles and other rubbish in the pond itself. An abandoned shopping trolley lay, wheels up, right in the middle. Poor old Mr Gladder would have been so sad to see how neglected it all was. He'd loved this little area and had tal great pride in keeping it nice for all our families to enjoy. Somebody should do something about it Without even thinking, I went out the back gate and down towards the pond, Rotten mozzies! I slapped at my legs. They must be breeding in the pond. The place was becoming a health hazard! I began to pick up some of the fallen branches and dragged them into a pile. “What're you doing, Amy?” Connor Jones stuck his head over his back fence, and a moment later his twin brother Brett also appeared. The twins were tall and thin and freckly with big front teeth. Theyd been playing cricket in their back yard. The back yards around here are really too small for cricket, and the twins had already been in trouble with their mum for breaking the lounge-room window “[ dunno; I could clean this place up a bit we could all play here like we used to when old Mr Gladder was alive. But it’s a big job — just look at it!” “We could mow it)” Brett said “We'll ask Mum if we can use the mower” added Connor, and they both disappeared. id. “I just thought if weI went on stacking up branches. Soon I had a big pile, almost up to my waist “Hey, Amy!” The two dark-haired kids who live in the big brick house on the opposite side came out of their back yard T hadn't seen them for ages. “Can we help?” Ryan Verdi caught hold of one end of the big branch I was dragging over to the pile, and Shauna began picking up rubbish. The Jones boys arrived with the mower’ engine roaring, and the pile of branches and sticks grew higher and higher. By lunchtime we'd done quite a bit. The nd Ryan and I had dragged all but the very biggest branches to the pile. Shauna had a rubbish bag half fall of bottles and empty cans “Our dad’s got a chainsaw; twins had mowed half the are: Ryan said. ORBIT “Til ask him to come and cut up those big branches for us when he gets home from work. Then tomorrow we can stack them up” MrVerdi not only cut up the branches, he got out his ride-on mower and slashed down the really high grass that the Joneses’ push mower couldn't handle. Mr Jones came ont to see what was going on, When he saw the big pile of branches we'd stacked up, he got out his car and trailer and carted them to the dump. “Well, what's next, Amy?” Mr Verdi said.""What’s the game plan for tomorrow?” They were all looking at me. I felt really fanny, telling people — grown-up people — what to do.August 2003 “Well,” I said slowly, “I think we need to drain the pond. Old Mr Gladder made a sort of an outlet at the lower end there that he used to let’the water drain out through. It a bit overgrown now. We'll have to get all those weeds out of the way first — then we can let out the water and cle “Tell you what,” said the twins’ dad. “You kids clear the weeds away from there and tomorrow afternoon I'll see if I can get home a bit early and we'll let the water out and see just how bad it is.” “What'll happen when we let the up the rubbish. water out?” Connor wanted to know “Won't the pond dry up: “No.” I shook my head. “There’s a litele spring at this end that seeps into it all the time. Mr pond fairly often. Then he'd block the outlet and the pond’d fill up again.” “You know,” my mum said, coming to join us,“once you get rid of all those weeds along the edge we could plant some flowering ground-cover plants. They'd look nice and they'd help keep the weeds down. I'll call in and see Rani at the nursery on the way to work in the id ask her what would be the idder used to clear the best sort” All next day we attacked the weeds around the edges and on the outlet end of the pond. It was pretty yucky working alongside that stinky, scummy water, being attacked by mosquitoes all the time. By the time Mr Jones got home from work we were all hot and sweaty and hungry. We hadn't even stopped for lunch — just snacked on some cordial and a big bag of chips I'd found in our pantry. 23 “Hey! You kids! Ryan! Shauna!” Mrs Verdi was calling us from her back gate. “Come and have something to eat. Come on, you must be starving: She spread a red and green checked rug out on the newly mown grass under and we all sat on it and wolfed down juice and sandwiches. Just as we finished eating Mr Jones came whistling out of his back yard, pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “OK, team," he said. “Let's go!” “Wow!” he said when he reached the pond."*You kids really have been hard at it! Yes, I can see how this outlet works now. Might be a bit hard to get it open, though. Now let me see.” He stood there scratching his head and thinking about it. the trees,224 “Need a hand?” Mr Verdi suddenly appeared. “Hmm,” he said thoughtfully “You Bob. Hang on. I'll go and get one.” The next thing, my mum and dad were ‘Came over to see if we could © going to need a mallet for that, there too. help)” Dad said Soon we were all hard at it again, mums and dads and kids. Mr Jones gave one great whack with the mallet and the outlet flew open. You should have seen us spring out of the way when all that smelly, scummy water came cascading out! “Whew!” Brett and Connor held their noses."“Boy, what a pong! Who going to get that trolley out of there? Ee-yuk!” ’ll do it.” MrVerdi waded out through the mud. “Just as well I've got these gum- boots on! I'll bet there's miles of broken glass in here, We'll have to rake it all up. Oh crikey, just look!” He pointed to all the tin cans, bottles and other rubbish that were appearing as the water drained away. ORBIT “Vl get a bin!” I raced over to our back yard and brought out the big wheelie. “Faugh! That smells rank!” “We'll hose the trolley off,” said Shauna and Ryan,“and wheel it up the road to the supermarket” Mrs Jones popped her head over her back fence. “It’s ge time,” she said. “What do you say toa I've got loads of sausages in ing on towards dinner sausage sizzl the fridge “Good idea,” said my mum. “I'll bring the bread and butter and tomato sauc “And ['ll make some salad,” Mrs Verdi said. We had a great sausage sizzle, out under the trees. It was pretty cool, really. Usually everyone just sat around inside at night, watching telly or playing computer games, and here we all were, running around playing in the soft twilight while the mums and dads sat back in their folding chairs and had a big yakAugust 2003 That night it rained again, but next morning the sun came out bright and clear. The pond had had a good wash-out overnight and looked better already. Straight after breakfast I started planting some of the ground cover Mum had bought at the nursery. Soon Connor and Brett came out and started helping me; then Ryan and Shauna appeared with some plants out of their garden. We had been working for about half an hour when a short, tubby man with a round face and glasses got out of his car and came towards us “Hello, kids!" he said. “What're you up to We looked at one another. We'd never seen this man around here before. He had a notebook in his hand and a camera case slung over one shoulder. I spoke up. “We're clearing the pond and this open area so we'll have somewhere to play. Old Mr Gladder used to keep it lovely, but since he died it’ got mess. The pond was fall nosquito wrigglers. Even of rubbish and a supermarket trolley. We decided to do something about it” Brett Jones spoke up. “Amy started it Then we came to help: “So did we,” Ryan and Shauna chimed in. “Well, good on you,” said the man. “I'm Joe Best,” he went on, handing me a small white card with his name on it. “I work for the Daily Sun. Someone gave me a call and told me about you kids. I think its great what you've done. I'd like to take some photos of you working on the pond to go along with an article.” He grinned at us."How'd you like to be in the paper?”26 We loved it! “Children Clean Up Mosquito-Ridden Eyesore,” ran the headline. The story went on, “Miss Amy Brownlow” — that’s me — “organised a working bee of her friends and their parents to clean up this once pretty area so that she and her friends would have somewhere to play.” The article mentioned Mr pleased about. After that, we were just about famous! For a few days, anyway. People stopped by to see what we were doing and stayed to help. Even the mayor turned up. “You've done a really good job here,” she told us.""From now on I'll see that the City Parks and Gardens people maintain \dder, too, which I was the area.” ORBIT That was really good, but what was even better was when they brought in playground equipment, and a sign saying “Gladder’s Pond Park.” Old Mr Gladder would have liked that. So it turned out that my holiday wasn't boring after all. Every day Connor and Brett and Ryan and Shauna and I played in Gladder’s Pond Park or worked on the gardens. At night our parents often had a barbecue or just brought our food outdoors. Lots of mothers and babies come for morning walks to Gladder's Pond Park now, and there cricket every weekend. Little girls play with dolls under the trees and there are tadpoles in the pond again fe boys and girls playingour artificial while they dry in the sun and wiORBIT Tue Lire AND Times or CicapAs Anicle by TOHBY RIDDLE UST AS FLOWERS tell us it is spring or red leaves tell us it is autumn, cicadas tell us that summer is here! All of a sudden the warm air fills with the rowdy songs of Yellow Mondays, Green Grocers, Cherrynoses, Double Drummers, Black Princes — and all kinds of other cicadas commonly found in Australia Indeed, for many countries around the world, summertime is cicada time. It is also a time for those lucky enough to encounter a cicada to have a closer look at these extraordinary creatures Prince But first of all one thing should be made clear. Cicadas are not locusts! Locusts are a type of grasshopper from Africa and the Middle East. They are famous for appearing in plague-like numbers and destroying farmers’ crops. When the first European settlers in North America noticed cicadas, especially when the cicadas appeared in vast numbers, they didn't know what these strange insects were. They thought they might be the locusts that were described in the Bible. They misnamed cicadas locusts and this has confused people ever since. ‘Phow cutesy ofthe AUSTRALIAN MUSAugust 2003 Cicadas have been around for a very long time. Not only were they mentioned by people of ancient times, but if dinosaurs had been able to, they might have mentioned cicadas too — that’s how long cicadas have been around! In Australia some species of cicadas have been enjoying the summers since the Cretaceous period (the last period of the dinosaurs, 65-136 million years ago). The only cicada species similar to them anywhere else in the world are now fossils! Most of today’s living cicadas, however, came along in the Palaeocene period, which followed the Cretaceous period. They too are very old and provide us — by their singing — with the sounds of prehistoric summers, many millions of years before our time. Speaking of the cicada'’s song — it can be incredibly loud. Cicadas are the noisiest of all insects. Their singing has been recorded at 120 decibels. Decibels (4B) are a measure of sound. So while cicadas aren't as loud as a jet aircraft (130 4B), they can still make more noise than a chainsaw (110 dB), a lawn-mover or a motorcycle (90 dB), or even an average shouting human (80 dB) The cicada’s song is actually a mating call sung by the m: the attention of a female. But cicadas also make a short alarm call if they are under attack or have been caught by a predator. Cicadas sometimes group together to increase their volume. This tactic can have the effect of driving away predators such as birds because the noise is so extreme and uncomfortable. In this way, a cicada’s singing acts as a form of self-defence. cicada to attract 229 Probably the most amazing thing about cicadas is their life cycle. The cicada most people know is a large flying insect that lives in trees and sings all day. But this only happens right at the end of a cicada’s life, making up only the smallest fraction of its lifespan. Thinking of this fact, the famous writer of haiku, Matsuo Basho of Japan, once wrote: In the cicada’s ory nno sign can foretell how soon it must die. by STEPHEN AXELSENTue Lire AND Times or Cicapas Article by TOHBY RIDDLE UST AS FLOWERS tell us it is spring or red leaves tell us it is autumn, cicadas tell us that summer is here! All of a sudden the warm air fills with the rowdy songs of Yellow Mondays, Green Grocers, Cherrynoses, Double Drummers, Black Princes — and all kinds of other cicadas commonly found in Australia Indeed, for many countries around the world, summertime is cicada time. It is also a time for those lucky enough to encounter a cicada to have a closer look at these extraordinary creatures. But first of all one thing should be made clear. Cicadas are not locusts! Locusts are a type of grasshopper from Africa and the Middle East. They are famous for appearing in plague-like numbers and destroying farmers’ crops. When the first European settlers in North ‘America noticed cicadas, especially when the cicadas appeared in vast numbers, they didn't know what these strange insects were. They thought they might be the locusts that were described in the Bible. They misnamed cicadas locusts and this has confi ed people ever since, oF the Blick Prince Photo risy of te AUSTRALIAN MUSEUMAugust 2003 Cicadas have been around for a very ong time. Not only were they mentioned by people of ancient times, but if dinosaurs had been able to, they might have mentioned cicadas too — that’s how long cicadas have been around! In Australia some species of cicadas have been enjoying the summers since the Cretaceous period (the last period of the dinosaurs, 65-136 million years ago). The only cicada species similar to them anywhere else in the world are now fossils! Most of today’ living cicadas, however, came along in the Palaeocene period, which followed the Cretaceous period. They too are very old and provide us — by their singing — with the sounds of prehistoric summers, many millions of years before our time. Speaking of the cicada’s song — it can be incredibly loud. Cicadas are the noisiest of all insects, Their singing has been recorded at 120 decibels. Decibels (4B) are a measure of sound. So while cicadas aren't as loud as a jet aircraft (130 4B), they can still make more noise than a chainsaw (110 dB), a lawn-mover or a motorcycle (90 dB), or even an average shouting human (80 dB). The cicada’s song is actually a mating call sung by the male cicada to attract the attention of a female. But cicadas also make a short alarm call if they are under attack or have been caught by a predator Cicadas sometimes group together to increase their volume. This tactic can have the effect of driving away predators such as birds because the noise is so extreme and uncomfortable. In this way, a cicada’s singing acts as a form of self-defence. 29 by STEPHEN AXELSEN Probably the most amazing thing about cicadas is their life cycle. The cicada most people know is a large flying insect that lives in trees and sings all day. But this only happens right at the end of a cicada’s life, making up only the smallest fraction of its lifespan. Thinking of this fact, the famous writer of haiku, Matsuo Basho of Japan, once wrote: In the cicada’s ery no sign can foretell hhow soon it must die230 The rest of the cicada’s unusual life is spent underground. In some species that underground life can last as long as 17 years. In Australia, where there are believed to be about 200 species of cicadas, the more common ones live underground for periods of up to 7 years. ‘When they finally emerge to become the cicadas we know best, they only live for another 3 to 4 weeks — just enough time to mate and lay eggs. So a cicada might spend less than one per cent of its entire life above ground. ‘The cicada’s extraordinary i ycl begins with the adult female laying eges after mating. It does this by using its ovipositor (an egg-laying spike at the tip of its abdomen) to place eggs into slits it has made in plant stems and tree branches. Months later, the eggs hatch, and ant-like wingless cicadas (nymphs) fall to the ground. Then they burrow up to 40 centimetres into the ground, sometimes deeper. There they feed on sap from plant roots, year after year in total darkness — eating, growing and waiting From time to time grows, it sheds its sk spectacular moment years underground, the nymph begins to tunnel its way to the surface. Th at dusk on a warm late spring or early summer's day, it emerges from the ground and — still within its exoskeleton (shell) — climbs slowly up the trunk of the nearest tree, Now, as night falls and the nymph is safely out of sight of birds and other predators, it b s the nymph But its most still to come. After usually ns its magical ORBIT Ausalsae, o Green Grocer, from it shell transformation into a winged, sometimes brightly coloured, adult cicada. When the nymph has stopped its slow march up the tree trunk, a crack forms in the back of its shell. As the crack widens, the cicada squeezes itself out — soft and wet. Like a bud blooming to become a flower, it tunfiurls its wings; then under cover of darkness, it dries and hardens into a fully mature cicada — ready to fly and sing amongst the trees in the hot summer days ahead,August 2003 These unusual and wondrous stages of the cicada's life cycle the ground after years below; shedding its skin; spreading its wings and flying away to sing and mate — have inspired people throughout the centuries. For example, in ancient Chinese tombs, archaeologists have found cicada-shaped amulets (lucky charms) carved from jade. The usually placed on the tongue of a dead person to symbolise rebirth, or life arising out of death, in the same way as the once buried nymph jis seen to rise from the ground, transform into a winged adult cicada, and enter a new life But returning to the fully developed cicada — the one that will visit our back yards and parks and forests — take a close look at a cicada's head and you will see what looks like a beautiful, triangular cluster of jewels on its forehead between its large eyes. These three “jewels” are actually eyes too — very simple ones called ecelli, used to detect sources of light. Another feature of a cicada is the way it feeds by drinking sap from plants. To do this it uses a needle-like straw that it sticks into the plant. This “straw’”is called a rostrum. It emerging from can be seen on the underside of the cicada, extending from the nose-like bulb on its face and tucked between its six legs. Colours of cicadas vary greatly. The brightest cicadas — the Green Grocer and YYou can see the the Yellow Monday — actually belong to the same species. The green colour or pigmentation of the Green Grocer is actually a mixture of yellow and turquoise compounds, When the compounds aren’t mixed, or aren't mixed equally, the cicada is either yellow or — more rarely but quite wonderfully — turquoise! ‘When it comes to flight, cicadas can only fly short distances and not with great skill. Flights longer than a minute are rare; indeed most flights last only a few seconds — just enough time to fly to another tree or escape a hungry bird. Luckily, over all these millions of years, enough cicadas each summer have managed to escape hungry birds or any other creature that might have come and gone. And so to this day, this ancient and mysterious creature still ushers in our summers with its songs and makes the world a brighter, noisier and more wondrous place ind rostrum on this magnificent Green Gr Photo courtesy of the AUSTRALIAN MUSEUMORBIT WHS i BooKSHELF Some things are safest locked away, Dangerous things, li ‘memories too sad to be borne. Fragile things are safest ce wild animals and strong medicines and locked away too — precious china, cage-bo binds paper sculptures, broken hearts. Lack them all up, safe from the curious and the careless. You can use chains or locks, cupboards or cages, but the main thing is t ‘put those thing ay from harm — and away fiom harming you In the last six: months, Rob Horton has put all with not thinking and not talking and not feeling and especially not crying about his mother having died, but theres other stuf in there as well, lke being pushed around every day by the Threemonger brothers. But one day, two things — a ginl called Sistine and, belive it or not, a caged tiger Rob find in the woods — come into Rob’ life. They show him that there are some things that simply can't — and shouldn't — be kept locked up for ever. You'll meet Rob and Sistine in the followin ofhis dangerous and fragile things away inthe safest mself. 1s like he’s extract from The Tiger Rising by Kate DiCamillo. If you want to meet the tiger, you'll need to find The Tiger Rising in your school library Tes asad book but a beautiful one — a Book review by Judith Ridge place he knows — deep inside 4 suitcase that’s almost too full to close. But closed it he has, and sat on it to lack it shut, Rob has lots little like a tiger in a cage of things inside that suitcase, They're mostly to do Tue Ticer Risinc Exinact fiom the book by KATE DICAMILLO / Illutavions by KIM GAMBLE, most nd it ended with Sistine Bailey sitting down next to him on T TURNED OUT to be an extraordinary day in a [= possible way. It started with finding the tiger, the bus on the way home from school. Her dress was torn and muddied. There was a scrape down her right arm, and her hair stuck out in a hundred different directions. She sat down in the empty seat beside him and stared at him with her black eyes. “There isn’t any place else to sit” she said to him. “This is the last empty seat.” Rob shrugged. “Its not like I want to sit here “OK,” said Rob. He shrugged his shoulders again. He hoped she wasn't going to thank him for saving her. she said.August 2003 “What's your name?” she demanded. “Rob Horton,” he told her ‘Well, let me tell you something, Rob Horton.You shouldn't run, That's what they want you to do, Run.” Rob stared at her with his mouth open. She stared back “[ hate it here?” she said, looking away from him, her voice even deeper than before. “This is a stupid hick town with stupid hick teachers. Nobody in the whole school even knows what the Sistine Chapel is” “I know,” said Rob. “I know what the Sistine Chapel is.” Immediately, he regretted saying it. It was his policy not to say things, but it was a policy he was having a hard time maintaining around Sistine “I bet,” Sistine sneered at him.“I bet you know.” “Its a picture of God ma Sistine stared at him hard. She narrowed her small eyes until they almost disappeared. “es in Italy” said Rob. “The pictures are painted on the ceiling. They're frescoes.” It was as if'a magician had cast a spell over him. He opened his mouth and the words fell out, one on top of the other, like gold coins. He couldn't stop talking. “I don’t got to go to school on account of my le that says so. Mr Phelmer — he’s the principal — he says the parents are worried that what I got is contagious. That means that the other kids could catch it g the world,” he said. I got a note 233“{ know what contagious means,” Sistine said. She looked at his legs. And then she did something truly astounding: she closed her eyes and reached out her left hand and placed it on top of Rob's right | “Please let me catch it,” she whispered. “You won't,” said Rob, surprised at her hand, how small it was and how warm, It made him think, for a minute, of his mother’s hand, tiny and soft. He stopped that thought, “It ain't contagious,” he told her. “Please let me catch it,” Sistine whispered again, ignoring him, keeping her hand on his leg. “Please let me catch it so T won't have to go to school.” “Ie ain't a diseasey” said Rob. “It’s just me.” “Shut up” Sistine said. She sat up very straight, Her lips Vs moved, The other kids shouted and screamed and laughed and IF)