One of our early initiations into Tasmanian life was at the mercy of the buzzies. These pretty little plants look like fireworks on a stem, the fresh ones a tempting aura of pink around a green head.

Buzzies in Tasmania, February 2013
They're so pretty, our girls initially collected them and presented them to me as bouquets!

But don’t let the beauty fool you. Buzzies are greedy, implacable, sock-grabbing, towel-riding, hair-raising hitch-hikers that leave you sitting for hours picking them out.

Buzzies in Tasmania, February 2013
As the seed-head ages, it changes from green/magenta to brown.

Buzzies in Tasmania, February 2013
A little rub against something fibrous, and the buzzies open up and grab on.

Buzzies in Tasmania, February 2013
And that is why I shouldn't wear my crocheted shoes in this state!

If you’ve visited Tasmania, surely you’ve encountered buzzies too. Little details like this remind us that we’re in a special place — different from the mainland — and for that, I treasure the memory of these plants … as long as they stay out of the bus!