“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.
The theme, like this week, is “evanescent” – although the week could be quite memorable, since I am here in Canberra awaiting the birth of Juniper’s sibling. We spent much of yesterday afternoon outside, enjoying the fleeting autumn sunshine and the last of the fast -falling leaves. Juni’s Mummy gave her some big sticks of chalk to draw on the concrete path, knowing that whatever art she produced would soon be gone. It rained a bit today (which didn’t keep Juni from playing outside), so I’m guessing the chalk marks have already faded away. Thanks to photography, they won’t be utterly forgotten, though.
The red leaf was hanging by a thread, besides which the ray of sunlight would soon move away, so that glow was particularly short-lived. We all know about dandelion clocks! I count myself lucky to have found one still intact.
Life is full of surprises, especially for forgetful gardeners. It’s autumn down under, and nerines are appearing out of nowhere – or at least, out of bare ground. The red one was given to me as white, and took years to decide to flower at last in this unexpected colour. Surprise! I’m fairly sure the bud is a pink one, but I’d forgotten where I planted it…
The fragile little bells of Leucojum autumnale were a lovely surprise, because there were no flowers last year, and I thought it was lost forever.
My favourite colour is pink’n’orange, so it’s a nice surprise to find a geranium that colour. A photo never seems to quite do it justice, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.
This weeks photography challenge is “Abstract”, making interesting images by moving in so close as to remove the context – or perhaps by unfocusing. My dad bought me a tripod several years ago, indicating that he felt I needed it. It’s handy at times, but all those out-of-focus close-ups I was taking were deliberate, not duds, Dad!
These I took a few days ago, on a very slow walk to a playground with Juniper, her mum and dad and Morris (the pup). The last two I took with my old phone (zoomed, so very low pixels). I’d gone for an late walk to the shops, and the slanting evening light was too lovely to ignore, and the phone was in my bag. The photo of leaves on the green grass I took because I thought it would make an excellent (ie frustrating) jigsaw puzzle!
Not so abstract, but someone had thoughtfully raked up a large pile of autumn leaves,right next to the playground that was our ultimate destination. It was even more fun than the slide and swings. I’ve only got another day or so in Canberra, then it will be time to drive home to Victoria, and my other grand daughter – shame they live so far apart!
I had a meeting to go to last night, and didn’t find time to post, but it’s still Friday in much of the world… I’ve been thinking about this poem lately, because the signs of autumn coming are once more in the air. I had to hunt through 5 or 6 notebooks of poems to find it, but I’ve dated each poem as I wrote it in, so I only had to look at late summer…
Magpies are singing
And nights are growing longer
Summer is fading every day Cold nights are burning
crab apples red
Clouds rush the sky
and earth lies dead
the same every year
The summer comes
This summer started early, with hot days in a mercilessly dry October. We have been noticing signs of autumn being early – those magpie songs, and the Belladonnas blooming much earlier than other years. For us, autumn is when the rains should come, it’s when the grass grows green over the tawny summer paddocks, and the danger of fires is past. It’s probably my favourite time of year, not least because I get to eat all those beautiful mellow autumn fruits!
It’s cold, it’s autumn, so here’s an autumn haiku, written on a cold and windy day. We’ve had a few showers of rain, and things are looking a little greener, thankfully. Here’s hoping we get a good, wet winter to fill up the dams and rainwater tanks before summer rolls around again…
Grey morning cold wind
My hair hanging in my eyes
I remembered you.
Here is a photo of our neighbours – Luckily I had my camera handy when I disturbed them one morning recently. Unlike the wallabies, kangaroos generally prefer grass, and stay away from our garden.