Listening without prejudice

For 15 years, Elaine Harris and her faithful seeing eye dogs held court at ABC radio in Tasmania, interviewing thousands of local identities.

“Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it. For them there is no winter food problem. They have fires and warm clothes. The winter cannot hurt them, and therefore increases their sense of cleverness and security.”

Richard Adams, Watership Down

One of my earliest memories from school geography lessons is being told that in temperate zones we talk about the weather; in tropical regions the word is climate.

So it is in Tasmania. Why else would a two-hour daily radio program contain four weather forecasts and winter broadcasts include discussions on warming winter recipes as well as the jobs best done in the garden from June to August? Why else would there be Tasmanian winter festivals centred on chocolate and whisky, though not necessarily at the same time?

Tasmania has 15 weather zones, not including the islands, myriad microclimates and an alpine region that is regularly dusted in snow. The four seasons are clearly delineated, each bringing its special pleasures: shuffling ankle-deep through mounds of crackling multicoloured leaves in autumn; blossom and increased birdsong in spring; soporific summer afternoons; and wrapping icy hands around a steaming mug of fragrant, spicy mulled wine or cider in winter.

It wasn’t long after graduating from university that I discovered my metier. Broadcasting and writing combined my love of words and performance, and they still do. During 14 years of presenting radio in Tasmania it didn’t matter that I worked from braille notes, as long as I was fluent and the information correct. Neither was it relevant that I walked to work with a guide dog, even if she did bark during the occasional interview or recording.

Many of my interviewees were on the phone or in studios in different cities, but even those who saw the braille labels on the studio panel were usually just intent on making their point, telling their stories or allowing me to ease their nerves and pilot them through the uncharted waters of live radio. My lack of sight was rarely relevant to the topics under discussion; constant references to it would have been inappropriate.

Taking note of smells, tastes, sounds and textures is as important in broadcasting as painting word pictures of the scenic view. The distinctive, exciting smell of snow and sleet — back to proofing ourselves against winter, perhaps — is never included in forecasts, but maybe it should be. The delicious aroma of chestnuts roasted and sold outdoors is as emblematic of winter as popcorn is of the cinema — though I do wish someone would invent a way of cleaning blackened fingers after the chestnuts have been peeled.

Wood smoke is one of my favourite winter scents. It’s discouraged in places where valleys and fog combine, but just smelling it makes you feel warmer.

Occasionally snow will close schools for the day. One of my most joyous memories is talking to the landlord of the pub in the small North-West town of Waratah the day they celebrated the snow. Instead of being cooped up in classrooms, the local children were sledging down the hill and building a snowman.

Many Tasmanians dress in layers in the winter; a frosty morning can turn into a sparkling sunny day requiring you to shed scarf and jacket. Of course not everyone complies. Last year we spent a night in Swansea on Tasmania’s East Coast on our way to the Bay of Fires Festival held each June in St. Helen’s, and met a couple whose clothes provided a dramatic contrast. While the woman’s layered garments mirrored mine, her partner was happy in shorts and T-shirt — cool in every sense of the word.

When I asked Dark Mofo’s publicist what patrons wore for the popular Hobart winter festival, she said, “Everything!” She described puffer jackets as “wearable sleeping-bags”, probably providing their own inadvertent audible backdrop to the proceedings. My husband has a waterproof winter coat we call his Rustle Coat because of the swishing sound it makes. Imagine that magnified thousands of times over as the soundtrack of Dark Mofo.

Gardening in Tasmania doesn’t stop for the winter, and neither did our weekly gardening talkback. It is possible to cultivate roses and enjoy their scent from September to June, as well as to grow and eat late-fruiting raspberries. Jasmine is in flower for many months (much to the horror of my hay fever-prone husband), and unlike many places in mainland Australia, it is rarely necessary to chill winter bulbs in the fridge for a few weeks before planting. My hyacinths flower and scent the air in late winter. Most Tasmanian gardens can have something fragrant in flower all year round. Trees such as cypress and many plants, including rosemary and lavender, will exude their scent when you brush against them at any time of the year.

Many eateries in Hobart encourage year-round outdoor dining by placing braziers beside outside tables in winter. Organisers of outdoor winter festivals scatter fire pits filled with scented eucalyptus logs — they burn more slowly and last longer than pine. The effect is not only to warm visitors, but to create that sense of bonhomie, wellbeing and a willingness to talk to strangers that open fires always evoke.

Multi-sensory living is an integral part of life in Tasmania, especially during winter, and sharing these experiences in daily broadcasts was an enriching part of my job. The best news, though, is that anyone can enjoy living through all the senses, whether you have 20-20 vision, no sight at all or anything in between. Children are especially receptive to it and love to share their observations. Pay us a visit and try it for yourself.

Elaine Harris is a writer and broadcaster who was a radio host on ABC Tasmania for 14 years.

This content was produced in association with Tasmania — Go Behind The Scenery. Read our policy on commercial content here.