Monday, April 30

fog on the stubble

We recently made our annual pilgrimage north to visit our farming mates in Three Springs.  The days were hot and the autumn rains yet to break, but one morning we awoke to a thick doona of fog and   moisture dripping from every surface.  The limited visibility brought a presence and stillness to our walk, our focus condensed and the shapes of farm life flattened in the supersaturated atmosphere, until the sun broke apart the dense cloud and left us again with a big mid-west blue sky.

Friday, April 13

after the rain

The mornings are cool and the earth was soft under the first rains of autumn, then the Indian summer  returned and easter was warm enough to melt the ears off a bunny.  All eyes are on the synoptic chart as the winds are shift offshore in the tropics and the countdown begins for our migration north. 

Wednesday, April 11


Twenty years ago, before Margaret River was the weekend destination for every second West Australian, three mates with a grand vision bought a plot of land east of the highway and began to build their dream; one sandbag and bush pole at a time.  From the original weatherboard cottage sprouted Mike's double storey house and garden.  The cottage is now a nurturing base for his business, Jojara, which works toward building successful businesses, winning teams and motivated individuals. For me it has memories of hard fought sock wrestles, a roaring pot belly in winter, and waking to dawn summer sunshine.  I always ask myself why have I left it so long between visits? 

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