Alone in the Expanse
Expanse: a large, open area of land, water or sky. (Cambridge Dictionary)
Something happens to me when I visit my family’s farm in the Wheatbelt. As we drive away from the outskirts of Perth and into the beautiful green of the Chittering Valley, my shoulders slowly, incrementally begin to release their seemingly boundless tension. We may or may not stop at the Bindoon Bakehaus for a predictably delicious afternoon tea. As we drive further along the Great Northern Highway the scenery tends to become more dominated by the red brown dust I grew up with. The eucalyptus trees frame the highway, as do the endless reflectors guiding the nighttime traveller. Usually there is a sense of relief when we arrive; it is, after all, a drive with small children (let the reader understand). Hugs from Mum and Dad; excitement from the kids; dinner is already cooked for us to eat. Sweet relaxation for me. For a few brief days, the weight of caregiving is partially taken from me and happily lifted by the grandparents who do breakfast, who read Bible stories, who listen to the stories and the requests and cuddle the baby.
Autumn Daze: A Photo Essay
Late summer fruits. Fluffy scavengers. Early rain. Lines hung full of washing. Making indoor fun. Heads full of curls. Quiet moments. Little seedlings poking their heads up through the soil. Waiting for produce to ripen. Siblings to hold, always. Adventuring outdoors. Roasting marshmallows over the fire. This is our autumn daze.
Have You Seen My God?
Have you seen the trees,
that stood before my time and yours
Have you walked among them
and felt a peace beyond tomorrow
Have you placed your hand against their bark
And remembered how to breathe
In Praise of Curiosity
I like to think I’m a curious person. Or perhaps more accurately, I aspire to be a curious person. It’s not because I think curiosity is a moral category. It’s not a fruit of the Spirit. And yet I’m increasingly convinced it’s a trait I want to possess. And in possessing it, I’ll gain something good.