Just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand!

Drowned trees on the Don River Railway line, January 2010.

...at least I think that they're drowned.

I'm not really a tree man. I know people that love trees. They love trees a lot more than they love people. They love trees more than they love cats and dogs. Some of them love trees more than they love whales and dolphins. Some love trees about the same as they love whales and dolphins. Some love whales and dolphins more than they love trees, but they probably would never admit that.

Trees are okay, but they're not high on my love list.

I love pizza way more than trees.

Comments

Ténèbres à la lumière... said…

What an interesting quote...
Hi! kris,
LOL!!!!

I must admit that I -love-(I'am unable to run a strike line through the word love...)

hmm...Well, I like trees too...but not more than... Pizza!
DeeDee ;-D

5 April 2010 at 09:17

Louis la Vache said…

Mme la Vache et «Louis» wish you a blessed Easter.

5 April 2010 at 13:05

smudgeon said…

I used to love trees. Then I got a different job where I didn't see them so much, and I got over it. Kind of.

I still do love them enough to know that's Melaleuca ericifolia (Swamp Paperbark), and from an estimated 18,000ha at the time of European arrival in Tasmania, we've got about 300ha left.

5 April 2010 at 16:19

Roddy said…

I too love trees, but once they are past their use-by date then they become firewood for my comfort.
What did I once say? I have enough firewood for the next twenty years. And more trees to come down.

5 April 2010 at 18:19

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of 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

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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