Grabbing the opportunity to soak up the winter sun and leave the wearying world of relentless work behind me, I packed a few life-support essentials and took myself to the outer reaches of the property for a bit of field observation...
Now the drought is officially over, I'm hoping to get some of the plumbing repaired...
There ARE alternative water-sources, though, and handy little footbridges to reach them with...
At last - my hideout - Australian vernacular architecture at its finest!
Others may have their gaudy palaces, but we in this land of bleaching sunlight are masters of the insubstantial, the perilous, the transitory...
How many artisans laboured here, burnt to a crisp, you ask...
Life is really a very simple matter of taking the world with you wherever you go...
Man can't live on bread and water alone, but adequately provisioned, the world is his oyster...
Not for me the fluff of the metropolis...
Observant as I am, I observe that Man needs no folly but to evacuate himself to the horizons...
Wherever he looks, Man shall behold beauty of one sort or another...
I cast my eyes about me, and see light in all, no darkness. Some would call this a wood-heap, but I see in it the way of the future...
There's always reason to revel...
Or just switch off. No doubt there will be further treks into territories unknown, if I'm not altogether lost in revelry. But I would sooner go to where there is nothing, than to where there is everything...
Hello Faisal:
ReplyDeleteWe are so pleased to see that the pioneering spirit is alive and well in Melbourne since it saddens us to note that it really does seem to be fading everywhere else. And, how wonderful to adopt, with your snappy bow tie, a high standard of dress for your adventure. After all,Lord Caerarvon even in the heat of Egypt was to be seen in a suit, collar and tie and we were never to be found venturing into the garden unless in full evening dress!!
We note and fully endorse [with the exception of tobacco]your life essentials, especially the glass of red wine. And, fresh flowers [even if the Iris is slightly past her best]are a must, we agree.
Enjoy that winter sunshine and gaze on, master of all you survey, we have loved being with you!!
You always make me laugh or smile, Jane and Lance. What a relief that SOMEBODY knows how to venture into a garden...if we're creating a show out there, we hardly want to appear at the back of the stalls after curtain-call in our cast-offs, do we?
ReplyDeleteOn this occasion, the red wine was only a prop...as for FRESH flowers - I can cope with the dying, and love them for what they've been...
I hope you are enjoying the most of what a European summer has to offer - so much kinder than ours.
dear Faisal
ReplyDeleteyou do have the words
you do have the style
you do have the spirit
i am only watching in awe
Demie,
ReplyDeleteyou are a most gracious lady.
What could I do next time, do you think?
Ah, the theater of the garden. Love the corrugated metal paintings.
ReplyDeleteI think I lack the energy to start completely from scratch, or scrub, as in your case. But I do garden on the remains of an abandoned castle, which seems to have lost its ages old building material in a radius of 500 m.
ReplyDeleteThe bits that haven't been picked up by villagers and reused in their houses, have all ended up in my garden. They do, however, make an attractive rockery.
I like unusual people who write unusual blogs; I am adding myself to your admirers.
ReplyDeleteLove this post! The building looks very much like New Mexico, also where things gets bleached out in days! I will be looking forward to your posts on those future treks. I am all in favor of switching off or getting lost in revelry where there is [supposedly] nothing rather than "everything."
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely weekend!
meggs.
Hi, James. Yes, corrugated iron's everywhere, so it's easy to overlook, and I'm sure whoever put the shed together did it without design. And yet, that's where you can see something pleasing.
ReplyDeleteHello, Friko. I'm delighted to meet you here, and am humbled by your comments. Wonderful, really, to live where you do, and that locals have appropriated the stone for themselves - it makes more sense than a hands-off approach that sees buildings as more important than people and their needs.
Meggs, we seem to have inclinations in common! You too have a rewarding weekend, and much contentment.
There is beauty and grace to be found in stillness and I can think of no better place for stillness than the horizons,for what appears to be nothing if viewed carefully can be everything.
ReplyDeletePerfectly said, Andrea, insightful.
ReplyDeleteFaisal,
ReplyDeleteLooks like you may be back to dining alfresco very soon. This a really beautiful post. The photographs of the walls are amazing. I am looking forward to your next trek.
Michael,
ReplyDeletewe're starting to get warmer days ( 18 degrees Celsius/64 degrees Fahrenheit ), so maybe the altered air will bring hints of new ventures. I'm glad you like the walls - beauty can appear where you least expect it.
me too (i.e. response to last sentence)
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ReplyDeleteThere is such poetry in your photos - fantastic job, thanks for sharing. Liisa.
ReplyDeleteI've loved poetry since I was young, Liisa. I love that it distills an idea, feeling or image and that you can dwell with that.
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