Mountain Wind...

Because mechanical pencils are fun.
Cheers, Lemmy.

Sunrise (sketch)

Sunrise

In the stillness
Of the dark they spun,
Like ballerinas of nothingness.

And once they have begun,
They declare they'll never stop.
In my head their brazen voices chorus

And they dance, whirling
Before my eyes.
I sink to my knees, dizzy.

The shades, they laugh and smile
Down at me, a tiny figure overcome.
By these dreams fantastical.

A thread is pulled, but before I'm undone
I am freed to toss, and stir,
And as I wake, rises the sun.

Chasing Stars (Sketch)

A random scribble of boredom and procrastination.

Content

Toes...

Toes,

My little camera & I went for a walk,

Swinging in it's case from the belt at my hip,

But my toes just touched the water,

Down past our little winding creek.
Willow strands to the little suncreek dip,

And I had no need to wander farther;

I had found it all right here.

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Time Wasting...

Wasted a weekend beading, below is a strategically lit pic of the necklace that took me five hours of careful wirework:

Mam was admiring it earlier so I might put it aside for Mother's Day... *shhh*

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Notes From The Road...

I'd never really been comfortable with the entire concept of a 'holiday', you must understand, I never really saw it. No camera will fit down my throat to show you the strange flavours of new foods I try, or the fuzzy, humid air that clung to my skin in the sub-tropical north when we got as far as we could go.

In typical family fashion we visited the Taronga Western Plains Zoo, here are my snapshots, but I have no time for a thousand words each to give them any substance at all.

Juara, his name is "champion" in Indonesian, the same language I studied for years and never once came across the word. the curiosity in this picture does no justice to the creature or his namesake, it was simply the best shot...

The Giraffes with their smooth velvet noses and great liquid eyes, thickly framed with lashes darker than soot. You cannot tell from the photo how graceful they were, like dancers, they moved.

Mam's photo, I did not see the Meerkats, My only report can be that Mam smiled as she spoke of their bright eyes and chittering fastidiousness.

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The hours in the car were long, the shudder of the car made it feel like my bones were dissolving into my flesh after days of it. Rising each morning in strange places with strange smells eeking through the sunlit canvas; stifling heat and lashing rain that should have made my windows shudder, if only I had been home.

The treasures found along the way make journeys worthwhile, like the roadside monolith that stole the sky, we waited 10 minutes just for the right light to take the photo, but it does it no justice, unfortunately

Or my Sleeping Giant, hidden in the mountain rockface with a mysterious smile on his slumbering lips.

Ah yes, the mountains, they too were beautiful beyond any human ability to comprehend, the lifethreads energetic and busy on their green forest skin, while deeper, through the stonespine of the plain it flowed slow and strong like a secret lifeblood river...

The Dorrigo National Park had more whispers than twisting vines, each a tiny forest secret that, teasingly, it will not tell...
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The people I met, the melodies I played upon my battered guitar, even the pier I sat on smelling the sea, the little memories I keep... my camera caught these, to be sure, faces and places, but with not even the substance of a parting smile.

L.

Wandering Shoeless...

There are petals in my coffee, as I write this... I think Jake put them there while I went to put my guitar away, because here they are, shredded jasmine in my cup of coffee.
I am not sure whether to leave them floating and not finish the coffee, or pick them out and ruin the tranquility of it all...
Jake! you truly are a Clever Villain: to make me choose between serenity and coffee like this!

...Little brothers, eh?

But I've allowed myself to stray here... Where was I? ...ah, yes, I was Wandering Shoeless...

Yes, finally, Summer is here! it's been nipping temptingly at our heels for a month-or-so now, but finally it has arrived: I can hear the cicadas! (Or "G'day Bugs" as 'Pa would call 'em in his rolling Queenslander-speak, --if you listen to the cacophony just right, it almost does sound like g'day,g'day,g'day,g'day repeating over-and-over.)

The hills of Pyalong and beyond are mottled brown, and I have, in my traditional summer fashion, cast aside my shoes; Only to be worn again if I happen to be going out somewhere, or helping work on one of Father's backyard projects where safety is required.
As my feet slowly regain the toughened, fireproof callous that had wasted away swathed in thick socks and runners during winter; I will spend my days roaming the house, hills and town alike, -shoeless- (with a pencil in my hair and a notebook in my pocket) until the holidays end and I am forced back into the heavy, clumsy school-shoes that would cause a rolled ankle out there on the hills...

The Christmas hype has never really been a bug to bite me, I am just glad of any excuse to see the ones I love, they live so far away...
Well, my pondering is done, my coffee is cold, my fingers itch to slide that stubby pencil behind my ear and be off, The hills are calling...

Happy Summer,
Leah Mae :)

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