Things are looking up at Seven Mile Beach! This - and remember that I am not an arborist - is some kind of gum tree that was chock full of magpies.
I like it.
I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...
Comments
These are the kind of trees that I am removing from Mother Earth.
http://hausblog.taz.de/2009/11/pimmel-ueber-berlin/
And I saw you are reading "Im Krebsgang" von Günter Grass. It´s a realy good book. Do you agree?
And greeting from Panama, where things are diffrent - mañana.
Sorry Kris!
Carola, that was an interesting link... ;)
My grandmother told me Gum trees were brought to the US to be used as rail road ties. It was soon discovered that the wood was to brittle. Couldn't they have just asked someone on your side?