Storytime

The end of August- the end of winter....the year is racing ahead and I'm left wondering what on earth have I done? This past month went too fast. And for most of it I was on holiday. It was such a good time. No planning, no preparation, no meetings or work clothes, no deadlines or HAVE TO BE HERE AT SUCH AND SUCH A TIME. It was relaxing and enjoyable. It was refreshing and recharging. I had thought I wouldn't write...but inspired by new sights, new experiences, new landscapes...the words flowed. I came home with the beginnings of a short story (that I have already worked on) and five poems...some of them based on the sights and sounds...some of them based on the characters we met...like the three taxi drivers (each with a dream), the woman coming to visit her grandchildren, tears streaming down her face at the airport...or even the Banksia Nut. Or George- in one of his many guises. And images are still whirling in my thoughts. I had hoped to put most of them

I must admit I tend to give up too easily. I'll send a story or poem out once, have it come back rejected and perhaps I'll send it out again but I'm sure I have so many that I've only sent out once. Perhaps twice. Three times at the most. A children's novel that I wrote a few years ago, sent that out, a publisher asked to see all of it and held on to it for nearly a year before I got the 'sorry not for us at this time' ...have I sent it out again? Once. And I do like this story, and friends tell me it's good. That it's worth sending out again. So what's stopping me? This is a tree outside the small town of Greenough WA. The southerly winds are so strong in this area that the trees grow horizontal. They don't give up, they struggle on and find their own way. The next photo shows trees growing in the Nambung National Park, where the pinnacles are. These trees are growing straight out of sand, struggling to survive amongst the limesto

Must admit I'm a bit of a wuss/ woos, however you spell it. Won't scuba dive or snorkel (scared of deep water and being unable to swim properly, stops that) but most other things I, hopefully, will have a go. Given no time to back out of it or reconsider. Or in this case read the warning sign. There is a tree near Pemberton, WA, called the Gloucester tree. 62 metres high Karri tree- with metal spikes forming a ladder of types, that if you wish you can climb ...to the top. This of course was on Steve's TO DO list...it never made mine. Come on he said, one step at a time. Hmmm.....really? Well I retied my shoelaces, tight, adjusted the camera around my neck and tried to avoid reading the warning sign that began with CLIMB AT YOUR OWN RISK and ended somewhere with SUITABLE IF YOU HAVE A HEAD FOR HEIGHTS AND ARE FIT. Well I'm ok with heights (have a thing about falling down but don't we all) as for fit - no way. But, I decided why not? What's the wo

Well here we are in WA - finally got our hire car (what a saga that was ) and are in Dunsborough , south of Perth, for a few days...staying at the Wyndham Vacation Resort. Nice. The weather has been lovely, sunny and warm enough for us to wear t-shirts during the day (take that Melbourne winter!) But back to thrombolites. We saw the sign while driving, and since on holiday and we can do whatever we want we decided to investigate. This what we saw.... yes those submerged greenish creatures were what we were seeking (little did we know at the time) and of course a nice walk through the bush and along the board walk to see Lake Clifton... But there was no notice telling us that we can only see the thrombolites at certain times, as in low tide. When viewed, at low tide, they look like this.... very interesting, and I'm not going into all the details now, (feel free to google for more information) but the two facts that interested me were -they grow 1 mm per year -t

Once a year my writing group has a retreat. The past few years we have ended up in the same house in Phillip Island. It's a large house, sleeping the eight of us (as long as you are willing to share rooms and the smallest doesn't mind climbing to the top bunk), on a quiet dirt road. Away from the hustle and bustle of the world. The object, is of course to write. And that is what my group does. They settle on various chairs, with pen and paper, or lap tops, at the ready - and they write. For the past few years I've kept a note of what each of us has worked on at the retreat and it's exciting to see that the manuscript we worked on that year, is now a published book. That the poem we discussed the other year, helped one of the group to win a major prize and funding for her poetry collection. However, I tend to do more of this... And go for lots of walks. It's a beautiful area and the dirt road is made for walking....got to love a chicory kiln. The time awa