hidwell
Well-known member
Late Summer
Late summers in Coffs are often grey. The dumpy grey clouds cover the hills to the coast. This summer there's been a lot of no clouds, or clouds covering the sun, nothing in between. Not very conducive to landscape photography. Not a particularly cheery time of the year. Today was a lot cooler with drizzly rain at times. The sun almost poked through at one stage, but then the heavy grey clouds reclaimed the little patches of blue. It is the wettest part of the year. Warm and humid. Difficult to sleep, running is real battle.
When I go for early morning run, I often hear the melodius call of a bird that I couldn't name. I have concluded that it is a Pied Butcherbird.
My running is such a hopeful thing, my photography is such a good/creative thing. These things deserve better than all the battles I seem to face. I want to be positive, I want peace. How do I get there?
A massage therapist I saw a couple of times at the worst of my knee pain has been arrested by Police for alleged indecent assault. Pretty alarming really. Another therapist was much more helpful. I tried everything to help my knee pain back then. Sharks cartilage, calcium and chondroitin. The smell of voltaren reminds me of my pain.
Old house
I went for a walk down the Jetty. I thought the triathlon was on, but I had the wrong week.
An old house is being moved downhill from my units. There is a metal barricade around the house. And the yard has been cleared of trees shrubs and grass, down to bare earth. The large old wooden house with its faded yellow and green paint, has been raised up on wooden trays. A front window is slightly broken by the activity. The front lawn that was immaculately maintained by the former owner is now carved up by tyre ruts.
I'd often see the man out the front weeding the lawn by hand. A beautiful soft couch lawn. Later I saw him struggling to walk home down the hill from the Jetty shops. He stopped to rest on the steps on the footpath, plastic shopping bags on the ground by his side. The signs of losing a battle for independence. A sad sign that I recognised from my father's own battle. I didn't see the old man after that. Often cars would visit, probably relatives.
I saw a grounded paper aeroplane, white with bluelines, wet with rain.
Very interesting mate, you write very well. :thumbup: