still frost rules...
been sussing rentals
garden needing tlc )
Image: a coastal wattle (Acacia sophorae) on this morning’s walk. And in the Dharawal calendar (on whose unceded land this tanka was composed with respect) we are just entering time of Wiritjiribin – cold and windy time when the lyrebirds’ calls ring out through the bushland as he builds his dancing mounds to attract his potential mates.
even as I beat these keys with my fist / they resist, spring springs back I groan, hammer the veins in my head / as if effort would suffice all winter’s rawness: the burnished furrow, the cornstalk wrecks
The old mandarin’s in fruit again. Green nuggets mostly but some are already turning.
The girl is pegging towels into the pull and slap of the Southerly. The wind has dried her hair into a russet frizz. ‘Look at me,’ she says turning her head from side to side, laughing. Continue reading →