I have no idea how exactly I got here . . .
The Paperbark swamp, a universe of frogs, a performance by light buoyant . . .
We are all still waiting for the sun.
I trawl our beaches in turmoil, soiled snow covers the grasses, a new waterfall, a fallen Pandanus . . .
A pair of dragons materialise, walking across Old Man’s Hat
Art has multiple deficits: size, expense, capacity . . .
I ask Wyn how many atoms are making her. She has no idea . . .
Children are enjoying the textures of the walk, the sounds, sights, the touches. They hold the key to the future.
When the Australian east coast whaling industry ended in 1963, this population of humpbacks had been reduced to around 100…
I learn a new word - allostasis.