“Not straight, not so straight” – twisted, in fact. Sticks, and the flames that consume them, cannot keep a straight line.
Bonfires are a regular event here, signalling the end of summer and fire restrictions. It’s also the end of Alex’s tired old thrifted chair – and a sobering reminder of the flammability of foam upholstery!
I made some candle lanterns using glass jars and twisted wire, to add atmosphere and light up the path to the paddock. This one has a hanger made with a found, twisted piece of heavy wire. The marbles around the tea light candle keep it centred and avoid overheating the glass. The jar lid can be popped on when the lantern isn’t in use, to keep the rain out.
This week, share the place where you feel you belong in the world. Or one of them!
I haven’t lived at my mother’s place for well over forty years now, and it’s changed a lot over those years. My dad’s old truck is still there, though – I spent part of my childhood squished in between my parents in that truck – my own place to sit and travel! It’s not going anywhere these days, but the rust and lichen that are overtaking the paintwork look like aerial photos of landscape in some “place in the world”.
Morgan’s Lookout is an unlikely place, a pile of granite tors on top of a hill. It is named after the bushranger who camped out there in the nineteenth century, looking out for travellers to rob.
It commands a marvellous view of the country-side in all directions, especially if you brave the climb to the top of the rocks. I only went part way, up that near-vertical metal ladder…
We have driven past Morgan’s Lookout a couple of times before, but last month, despite being short of time, we turned of the main road and drove through paddocks to reach the hill. There is a picnic table, and a toilet block (presumably drop toilets, I didn’t look!). Alex and I scrambled up between the rocks, and he went all the way to the top. There was a massive deposit of tickle-grass lodged between some of the rocks, and even from halfway, the view out across the plains is impressive. I’m grateful to whoever decided to make the place available to the public, as it is the middle of farmland.
Straight lines in bricks and graph paper, curvy lines in some sort of succulent – growing in the incredible Cactus Country at Strathmerton in Victoria, Australia. If you are ever any where near there, make a bee-line for the garden and cafe, and make sure you order a slice of cactus cake with your coffee!