Officially it’s autumn, but seems to think it’s still summer here in Melbourne.
These leaves, scorched in the week of 44C heatwave could, just could, be autumn couldn’t they?
Haven’t really got much to post about as I’ve been reading, reading and reading. Got rather hooked on the works of Peter Goldsworthy. How did this come to be? I’m writing a review of his novel Wish and suddenly had the urge to re-read his collection of short stories in Gravel. I don’t own it, so a trip to the library and home again with Three Dog Night and Everything I knew as well as Gravel in my handy shopper bag. I just couldn’t stop reading - one book after the other. When I was finished all of them my brain just wouldn’t co-operate with any writing at all. It was so full of thoughts. Goldsworthy is quite a storyteller, and they have an edge to them too. Now I have to really get cracking and write that review, but just wanted to check in with the dashboard to see what’s new among those I follow, and put out a few thoughts.
Happy March to you all. Welcome new followers. Thanks one and all for the likes and the reblogs and may I say how much I enjoy your posts.
The hillside family of chooks love roaming freely around the garden. They’re rarely to be found very far away from one another, tending to very quickly follow the more adventurous one the trio.
Every day we pound the pavements, my faithful dog and I. It is as much a meditation as it is physical exercise for both of us. It isn’t a power walk, or a head-down, earphones and iPod in pocket walk. It’s a walk that also exercises the senses.
Right now it’s hot, hot, hot as Victoria continues to experience a consistent summer heatwave. Therefore early morning is the best walking time just as the sun is rising above the horizon.
Walking with Sam is more a promenade than a real workout, His purpose is to read the daily dog news, and messages left behind on tree trunks or electricity poles. Even on blades of grass or in the shrubbery of the nature strip, Once he’s sniffed out the messages he posts an answer, leaving behind a trail that announces he’s read the paper, message received, here’s what he thinks.
I on the other hand have to avoid the uneven pavement, the little holes where the pavement has sunk due to heat or risen because of a tree trunk or two. So the stop-start slow progress of our journey allows plenty of time for me to enjoy the scents from gardens as we pass by; lavender, gardenia, a rose here and there. It’s the flowering natives, particularly eucalypts, that remind me of the Australian bush and its tangy aroma. Mixed with nature’s perfume is that of soap, shampoo, after-shave, even the tantalising odour of bacon or garlic and onions; a reminder that behind these gardens are homes where people are going about their morning routines.
Therere is a sound track to our walk. It comes from the birdlife – the warble of the magpie is my favourite. It speaks of spacious blue skies and the country even in the cramped urban streets. There’s a percussion to the melody of the birds; it’s steady thrum-hum of bees busy in the gardens that have been wafting beautiful perfumes our way.
It’s such a great way to begin a day this mindful meditation on the moment-by-moment small things.