At dVerse Lillian is hosting Prosery (144 words) with an invitation to use the line “I wandered lonely as a cloud.” from the William Wordsworth poem ‘I wander lonely as a cloud.”
Photo: from our 2017 road trip through central Australia and down through South Australia, back to Western Australia along the coast. This photo taken along the Nullarbor, the ocean not visible, but further beyond the van is the Great Australian Bight.
“How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue.” A.A. Milne
At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write inspired by Hanshan (Cold Mountain) the mystical figure of Chinese poetry (9th C) – option 1 to write about a mountain experience real or metaphorical, or 2 to follow the experience of Hanshan. For more detail, follow the link below.
Photo: The summit of Bluff Knoll, 1,100 metres shrouded that day in mist (cold and misty at the top, autumnal and warm rainy middle, summer at the bottom).
“My father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing.” Aldous Huxley
The line offered and which must be included is: “What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish?”
Photo: an example of eremophila taken at Niagara near Kookynie.
“According to ancient mythology, trees link the earth to the sky. In this respect trees link humans to another world.” Richard Allen
Fierce Beauty
The eastern goldfields suffer only the strong or determined living in the extremities across these vast open plains of mostly dry laterite and also quartz, granite and sandstone outcrops populated by shy fauna and rugged flora. The summer is merciless, the winter winds penetrate layers. The rainfall is pitiful, the reason the state government commissioned the grand and ambitious Goldfields Water Supply Scheme in 1896.
When the rains do come they seem to evaporate before they touch the surface soil, and it is a wonder that anything could grow in such a place. Which raises the question, what are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish? Dozens in fact, varieties of eucalyptus, acacia, eremophila, grevillea, and callistemon tenaciously hang on out here where humans wilt. When the sun is fierce, the soil unforgiving, the trees are beautifully fiercer.
Photo: looking from the back wall of one former pub to another. Ruins at Kookynie, a former gold-rush town once boasting a mayor and council, and 10, 000 people and seven pubs.
“What’s old collapses, times change, and new life blossoms in the ruins.” Friedrich Schiller
Welcome to my personal blog site. I see myself as a free thinker, life explorer, and wisdom collector. Some of my favorite subjects are psychology, philosophy, relationships, society, reading, writing, technology, and lifestyle.
Welcome to my personal blog site. I see myself as a free thinker, life explorer, and wisdom collector. Some of my favorite subjects are psychology, philosophy, relationships, society, reading, writing, technology, and lifestyle.