Maria Grujicic Studio

The animals, plants, and landscapes in Mystery Plants & Trees come from a mixture of vivid memories, direct observation, and imagination. When I explored the Ludmilla Bushblock as a child, I did not see the landscape as a whole. Instead, I focused on one plant, one animal, or one moment at a time. Everything else seemed to fade into the background. This feeling inspired the idea of “secrets” and “hide and seek” in the book.

The cover of the book reflects the way I remember the bushblock — rich vegetation, open blue sky, and a path leading into the landscape. Although the girl in the illustration is wearing shoes and carrying binoculars, these elements represent a bridge between childhood and adulthood. As children, we rarely wore shoes, even at school. We entered the bushblock freely and barefoot, feeling completely safe among the plants and animals. The binoculars symbolise independence and the act of looking closely at nature — something that later developed into photography when I returned as an adult.

The Paperbark Flycatcher

One of the most memorable moments occurred when I photographed a paperbark flycatcher in mid-flight catching insects. The moment felt almost miraculous — a brief glimpse of the delicate activity happening constantly within the bushland.



















The birds and wildlife made eye contact, much like the animals that still visit our gardens today. It felt like a relationship — a quiet connection between people, animals, and the land.

The Stream and the Path Into the Bushblock

The stream shown in the book is symbolic of a real place where we would climb down into the “ditch” during the dry season to enter the bushblock. I remember exploring this area with my neighbourhood friends Nicole and David when we were children. That moment — climbing down the bank and entering the bushland — stayed with me for years.

The landscape in the book is intentionally rich with vegetation and open blue sky. It reflects the paradise I remember from childhood, before invasive grasses appeared. The path and stream are symbolic of the places where we would climb down into the bushblock during the dry season. The pandanus tree stands as an emblem of the landscape.

The Ancient Paperbark Tree

On that first visit into the bushblock with friends, Nicole and David took me to see a large ancient paperbark tree. I photographed David standing beside this tree, and that photograph became the cover image of my earlier book The Hidden Beauty of Darwin. The paperbark tree symbolises the age and endurance of the bushland.




















Some plants in the book are real memories, while others are imaginative combinations. The banksia flowers glowing like golden lanterns were inspired by dragonflies I once photographed above a large body of water in the bushblock. Honey-eaters feeding on flowers reflect birds that often visit gardens in the neighbourhood.




















The Ancient Cycad
 

Another powerful memory was discovering a mature cycad while walking through the bushblock. I stood beneath it and looked upward, feeling as though I was standing beside a gentle giant. I never found that tree again, but the experience stayed deeply embedded in my memory. In the book illustration, the child touches the plant and looks up — reflecting that moment of connection.















 

 

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Memory and Imagination
 

Not every plant in the book appears exactly as it does in the bushblock today. Invasive grasses now dominate many parts of the landscape. In the book, I chose instead to represent the richness of the bushland as I remember it — full of vegetation, wildlife, and open sky.
 

Some plants were inspired by memory, while others were imaginative combinations. The red grevillea in the story grew from my memory of a plant I once called “the curly one,” because of its unusual shape. The banksia flowers glowing like golden lanterns were inspired by dragonflies I photographed above water in the bushblock.
 

Other elements come directly from everyday life around the bushblock. Fruit bats visiting mango trees, honey-eaters feeding in garden flowers, and berry trees such as lilly pilly and billy goat plum all reflect the relationship between neighbourhood gardens and surrounding bushland.

The “curly one,” a plant I once saw but could not identify, inspired the red grevillea in the book. Its colour symbolises life and vitality. The towering gum trees and fruit bats reflect the grandeur of the bushland and the animals that visit our mango trees at home.

Berry trees such as lilly pilly and billy goat plum connect to childhood memories of berries appearing in our gardens — seeds carried by birds. My mother would say these were gifts from God.

A Landscape of Resilience

Grass trees appear in the story as symbols of resilience. Bushland plants often regenerate after fire, and the regrowth of vegetation after harsh conditions is something I have always found remarkable. In the book I describe this as “a bushblock miracle — me and you,” emphasising that we are part of this living environment.

The child’s hand touching the earth also echoes the barefoot freedom of childhood, when we walked through the bushblock without shoes.

Toward the end of the story, the animals appear again as if greeting the child and quietly saying goodbye before hiding back into the landscape. She returns along the stepping-stones across the stream and looks toward a single house on Fitzer Drive, inspired by my neighbour David’s home with its red mailbox and wildlife-filled garden.

Above her, the black kite glides — a bird I remember following me in the sky as I drove to work years later. In the final scene she arrives home, still connected to the landscape around her.

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Observation and Imagination
 

Children reading the book are invited to create their own bushblock adventures. They can observe, imagine, invent their own names for plants, and notice details in the natural world around them. The story encourages curiosity rather than memorisation.