Here in North Balwyn, Melbourne, this Friday afternoon the sky is overcast
and showers, much needed, seem in the offing. But plenty in town just now
were at open-air tables with their coffee. The strong winds in recent days
have stripped some of the foxglove flowers from their tall stems, but plenty
remain and the tiny buds near the tops may yet open. The goldfish we put in
our backgarden terracotta pond rise to the surface for their flaky food
despite their knowledge that predatory birds are nearby. After gales I
collect kindling for the fireplace from the garden, twigs and small branches
from the over-storey (word?) of eucalypts. The worst gale can bring down a
big limb and break glass beneath, so the glassy bedroom feels vulnerable and
we ponder moving to the front of the house which is in 1950 bungalow style,
not 1990 all-windows. Melbourne is threatened with water restrictions.
Beyond Melbourne are some green rural enclaves but many in dire trouble,
dying livestock, crops threatened, country towns with water quality
deteriorating.
The roses we planted in our too shady garden lack the sun they need to
flower much. Over the road the lady told me Rosa umbilica copes with shade.
At the Arts Centre just now I bought a postcard of Sidney Nolan:
Rosa umbilica
painted in the 1940s at Heide a few miles away.
Max Richards at Cooee, Melbourne
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