Blood red
She arrived at my front door yesterday, unexpected, carrying a bucket. It was her last errand before leaving town for a family holiday—delivering a fragrant gift of thanks, roses from her carefully tended garden, Mister Lincoln, no less. It’s the scent…
Of grief and the snow gum
Winter. The aching cold creeps into my bones and stays. Like an unwelcome house guest, it distracts and drains me, apparently undeterred by my efforts to evict it. Outside, driving winds come in powerful waves, their icy blast arriving unhindered, direct…
Slowing down for the pageant
Late autumn. A reason to slow down. Aromatic leathery eucalyptus leaves fall year round where I live, but they have company now—showy pay-attention company. Standing up amid an imposing array of angophoras, Sydney blue gums, blackbutts, turpentines and Queensland brush box…
An ode to sourdough and hammocks, but mostly to friends
As so often happens when I go to the local shopping centre, I got sidetracked. Last week I was hovering hopefully near the baker’s shelves—shelves of crusty sourdough, yeasty baps and fruity scones—wondering what to get, when instead I found a…
