Summer is here,
in the middle of
Spring, with the
first warning of
bushfires, and the
first moment of
almost treading
on a snake (a cute
baby Black, but hey
a snake’s a snake).
In winter I stride
across the land
(though always
avoiding ants, and
beetles, and spiders).
I walk differently
in Summer. Slower,
more carefully,
each foot
landing lightly.
Concentrates the
eye wonderfully
knowing the next
step could be your
last. Is that what
makes us Australians,
I wonder, such a
cautious tentative
breed?
nomdeplume 