Sometimes I want to run away to a calmer life, a simpler house, less possessions, a safe harbour in a storm, to a house perched on a hill surrounded by bush. Today I am dreaming of chasing the late afternoon sun on a deck. Whipbirds crack the air with their song. A chill is creeping up the hill and I’m wondering how long I can leave it before I have to rise and pull the doors to. Perhaps I’ll light my first fire of the season. But not quite now. Just a little more time in the sun. Bonnet Hill House in Tasmania by Dock4.
(Note to Tasmanian readers. I have an inkling that whipbirds are not found on your island but it’s my daydream and they’re my favourite bird call.)