No writing this afternoon, no swimming either … instead, bringing the ewes off the oat stubble on a stormy afternoon…
Through dust and dirt…
Sometimes life is for escaping from.
Sometimes it’s for escaping to.
Today was the latter…
Very early this morning, the men decided to go fishing and being totally uninterested in the hunter-gatherer thing, I asked if they could drop me at Maria Island.
The rain is hitting the window like iron nails and the wind howls banshee-style around the eaves. It’s perhaps not a night for walking.
Every night my husband and I take our dog and walk for 30-45 minutes. Most often, we look up at a black velvet sky with swathes of starry ways, even the occasional shooting star…
“Click go the shears boys, click, click, click,
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick,
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow,
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied yoe…”
It’s very quiet in the shearing shed, the day before shearing. Especially on a quiet winter’s day where the light sparkles. It’s something special after almost a year of drought, to gaze out upon green paddocks and pasture beginning to grow…
There is an internationally recognised art facility in town – MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art.
Till now, my husband and myself have always found other things to do than visit this fine collection. People would say ‘You haven’t been yet?’ and we’d sheepishly say, ‘No…’
Cold Christmases? Snow? Robins sitting on a yuletide log whilst carollers sing with lighted lanterns?
It’s such a perfect picture and one that I grew up with courtesy of books, Christmas cards and fledgling TV programmes.
I remember at primary school when we made our own Christmas cards and I couldn’t WAIT to get hold of the glitter to sprinkle around because the glitter would be the winterlight dancing off the snowflakes that I was contriving to design.
But our reality here in Australia is really so very different…
Street libraries have become the libraries of the day as shortsighted governments close down libraries or shorten the operating hours.
The first one I ever heard of was when writer SJA Turney told me about the red phone box in the village of Kirklington, North Yorks and which was filled with books…
After that I noticed every country seemed to have their version.
And on the radio the other day, I heard about the Liverpool Street Library in Hobart and thought ‘Oh good, Hobart’s catching up!’
Imagine the surprise then, when driving down a coast road, I spotted this! The Retro Library!
Of course it required investigation and I found a great selection of books and magazines.
It has a window with a view over the beach too.
And a seat to sit and read in between gazing at the view.
I suspect the owners of the Retro bus stop sign have built the Retro library and I say more power to their foresight!
May it please many readers through this summer.