Thursday, April 21, 2011


Our local art and craft gallery, which is in the old Gin Gin courthouse, have creative get togethers on a Wednesday morning,twice a month.   So I dug through my drawing and painting stash, which has not seen the light of day in quite a while and joined in.
Lots of creativity, tea, laughter, oh and cake as well.
A part finished ink drawing which will have watercolour washes applied at the next art-daze if I can wait that long to finish it!

Friday, April 15, 2011

Autumn's Gentle Hand

Two weeks ago I wasn't sure, I thought that Autumn was taking the reigns from Summer, but then a burst of heat came and I thought maybe not.
Now I am sure.
There is a change.
Mornings say more of Autumn's hand than any time. The air is sweet, soft, cool with a tang that only Autumn brings.
The early morning sun wears a cape of misty golden glow.

The distant hill first reveal and then hide their eyes in the drifting silver mist.
The grevillea has caught the dew and threaded a garland of silver in her hair.
And the spiders webs have captured spheres of  brilliant light.

Green velvet moss hugs the ground, a gift from the bounty of summer rain.
The fruiting bodies of fungi spring from trees and the earth in fantasy of parasols and forms.
Patterns of lacework light forged by many unseen mouths.
Black Wattle puts on it's crown of fragrant golden orbs.
Then they fade and fall and spread their sunlight on the ground. 
The coming buds of winter wattle grow pale on flower spikes.
The wild passion glows with the final summer blooms.
The lilac flowers of the wombat berries will soon give way to fat black fruit.
Soft russet seed pods carry the next generation of new life.
Some have already cast their seeds to the wind.
 The grass tree spears, having shed their seed will stand a silent sentinel, witness to another season gone.
At the end of life's journey a brilliant cape of bronze and gold.
The sky is now a softer blue.
Gone is the ultraviolet blue dome of summer, from which the blinding sun cast its heat and harshness over the land to suck up the moisture and cast it back at us in fierce thunderstorms, torrential rain and floods.

The noon shadows grow longer and stretch across the land.
The afternoons are drowsy. The sun pours down like butterscotch on butterflies soaking up the warmth before their short dance is over.
The clouds of early evening are painted with watercolour.
The nights are cooler, and the stars, oh the glorious stars blaze.
 photo by NASA
The moon chooses a new arc across the sky and the great constellation turn on another journey of the seasons.
Autumn is my time of year and my time of life.