Wheat
Hidden in the mulch, a mystery grain crop emerges. What could it be? Oats? Wheat? Something else?
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A calendar triggers memories of mountain huts, summer and winter…
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IN SPATE late that day The Fish River At the base of the escarpment Up which we ascended through forest Dripping with moisture From recent rains. Last I came this way There was only a slippery log Upon which to cross And a length of fencing wire as handhold That gave a false sense of […]
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IT WAS AT THE END of 2104, December, when I accidentally rediscovered the Tyler family graves. My discovery of them was back in the 1970s when I was with a group bushwalking down that way. The only person I recall from that walk — and it’s now something of a vague, poorly-recalled memory — was […]
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The camera and the bush… they have more in common than you think…
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A SLEEPER CURLS UP SEEKING WARMTH in an overnight camp in the wet eucalypt forests of the Picton in south east Tasmania. I don’t recall whether it was evening or early next morning that I made this photograph, probably on my Canon FTB camera – a film camera, that is (this was way, way before […]
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THINGS ARE NEVER quite the same when you return. They are similar, but not quite as you remember. There’s always something different… something you can’t quite put your finger on. That’s how it was when I returned to the rocking stone. The cloud was low that day. We had left The Springs some time before, […]
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A Tasmanian journey… “WHAT’S THIS?”. Fiona holds out her hand as if to catch whatever it is that has started to fall from the sky… small, soft flakes that disappear as soon as they settle on the ground. “It’s snow. Soft summer snow!”, she says. So it is. Just light flakes. It isn’t that wet […]
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A Tasmanian journey… LIKE THE AUTHOR, when I lived in Tasmania I too felt the allure of the Bass Strait islands. Unlike the author, changing circumstances prevented me doing anything about it. Now I get to look down on Flinders Island every time I fly into Tasmania, providing the weather down there is clear. And […]
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