Reconnecting with nature and community in the inner city.
Stormy weather took out the power lines so Christmas morning began with a crackling fire and smokey toasted croissants. Traditions of plastic trees, turkey and shouting matches are made to be broken: family, friends and fishing are much nicer. Chocolate birthday cake is pretty delightful as well.
The introduction between our housemates and their first Australian snake was an anti-climax, an eagle had removed its head, leaving it as aggressive as a piece of hose pipe. The cockatoos put on a better show, their harsh voices flying through the air and piercing our ear drums, but the kangaroos, suddenly alert as one, bolt upright and staring us down as our car idled past made each passenger question their worth and right to be there. Strong emotions at first encounters are always much more amusing.
Following an old bush track we came upon a metal gate which opened onto a cloudless sky. Our thrill at scaling the locked barrier only slightly dampened by the friendly sign suggesting the gate not be left open.
The sun glittered off rooftops in miniature below, I never realised that sight was uniquely Australian until our housemates remarked on it, I think they found the naked metal vaguely appalling and crude. But there is something lovely about a corrugated roof hugged by silver gums, and the bedtime sound of rain pattering on its ripples is a memory that gently drifts me back to childhood snug under the covers.
We spent a lazy weekend showing our new housemates the Australian countryside. We thought we’d ease them in gently by setting off from the Malmsbury Botanical Gardens which is very British before taking them down the bumpy dusty dirt track into the bush filled with all our lovely venomous slitherers. I do love a town with character, and when people have old retro buses in their backyards you know you’re somewhere special.
