Point of view
I hate the sound of a rabbit, at night, screaming in the jaws of a fox. But I can’t hear the fox cubs crying with hunger.
Australia
Payment due
Writing a memoir is a life’s work. It has to be earned by the lines of your face, the wrinkles of your hands, the night fears of your sleep, the weariness of your brain, the failing of your body, and finished just in time.
Happy to see you
The Choughs are back doing some gardening for me, and the sight of their ungainly walk and their happy family warms the cockles of my cold winter heart.
Seasons
Plumes of smoke on a cold Winter’s day bring thoughts of warmth and community and human busyness and achievement. Plumes of smoke on a hot Summer’s day bring thoughts of destruction and terror and loss and anger and failure.
Mine
I wonder what he was thinking, that first man who chewed a mouthful of pigment and then blew it over his hand pressed tight against the wall of a cave?
Blissful
The Butcher Bird singing, beautifully, from the old dead tree this morning, doesn’t know about coronavirus.
Absent friends
The road outside my farm, always busy with commuter traffic, is empty, this morning, as far as the eye can see.
Morning greetings
Three eagles on a windy morning circling circling low above my head and calling, calling: “Here we are” “Here we are” “We love wind” “We love wind” “Our domain” “Our domain”. And then they slide away slide away to another hill. “Here we are”.
Raindrops keep failing
I weep bitter tears when drought breaking rain is forecast and I get just a little bit less than bugger all
Raindrops keep failing Read More »