Monday, August 6, 2012

Winter night

The light has faded and the lemon scented gum vague shadow of branches moving in the wind. Skeins of raindrops scatter across this iron roof. A possum runs a tangent course urgently seeking something as nearby a Boobok calls and is answered. On a Sunday night traffic noise fades, a train horn sounds from a distance and a girl laughs to her friend on the footpath as they make their way home through the dark mist that descends at night to enclose this house as if it were magically floating in a cloud.

1 comment:

  1. Some lovely evocative posts, Nicholas. Thank you. Wonder what it is that makes some sounds life-giving and some life-draining? Volume? Pitch? Repetition? Association? Different for each of us, I suppose!