About 60 kilometres (37 miles) west of Sydney, lies the Blue Mountains. A mountainous region and National Park, it was listed as a World Heritage area by UNESCO in the year 2000. It is called the Blue Mountains due to the blue-grey colours of eucalyptus trees.
The setting for some of my stories are based within the Blue Mountains as I lived there for several years. I’ve always been drawn to the Australian bush, which is an ideal setting for stories of a Gothic or horrific nature.
One of the region’s best-known tourist destinations is The Three Sisters, a unique sandstone rock formation at Katoomba, and is one of Australia’s most photographed landmarks.
People have been known to climb them, but due to their cultural significance to indigenous Australians, there are some restrictions.
Aboriginal women would give birth in a cave near Echo Point while the men would watch the third sister for a sign that the birth had occurred. It is believed that this third sister is sacred.
When I was young, one of my favourite books was about a dreamtime story on the Three Sisters. My copy was a Little Golden Book, which I still have to this day. 😊
Once, a wise medicine man named Tyawan, was good at imitating the lyre bird and it was rumoured that he could change himself into one if he wanted by using his magic shin-bone. He had three daughters, named Meenhi, Wimlah and Gunnedoo.
One day as he left the girls alone while he hunted, a rock fell over a cliff, waking a bunyip from his 100-year sleep. Seeing the girls, the bunyip went after them. Tyawan arrived back in time to point his magic shin-bone at the girls, turning them to stone. The bunyip chased Tyawan, who turned himself into a lyre-bird, but in his efforts to get away, his magic shin-bone became lost.
The bunyip returned to his cave, but to this day, Tyawan continues to search for his magic shin-bone so that he can turn himself and his three daughters back into human form.
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I didn’t know the Three Sisters story. Pretty cool. We have Blue Mountains here, too, the Blue Ridge Mountains. I can see them from our road. They look blue not because of eucalyptus trees but because of the dust (some say gases) emitted from the specific minerals in the mountains.
That sounds lovely, Priscilla! We used to have views of the Grose Valley when we lived in the mountains. How I miss them!