The world is full of colour now. Cicadas sing their raucous chorus, Heat rises from the wondrously damp ground: it rains.
The eucalypts are washed, jacaranda and agapanthus shine their violet-blue.
I drive along Barrenjoey road, through Bilgola bends, summer washes over me. The scrub by the side of the road still smells like bright light there.
The light enters me , and shines until my chest hurts.
I am immersed in December: once, it was my favourite time. I feel ambiguous towards it now.Sometimes it breaks my heart completely.
The season for presents: in the spirit of things, I give out trees.
Banksia Spinulosa: even in infancy, their upward reach has such integrity.
All the corporate gifts are trees, I make a comments about "projected growth" on the little cards. The company celebration is by the harbour, on a wharf. The night is sultry. My face is made of glass.
The corporates smile at their little trees.
My mother is ill. She seems the same on the outside, but inside is a potentially explosive thing. She has gone about organising her business, and instructing me what to do with her things. She has given me goggle-eyed Santa, which is older than me, its origins somewhere in Antiquity. I remember goggle-eye santa from when I was a baby, but he wasn't my favourite.
Goggle-eyed Santa now belongs to me.
There will be surgery for the mother, on Tuesday.
She has also given me this snow bauble. inside is a sleigh,deer, snow. It is hanging on my tree, next to goggle eye and the bird. I take care so that none drop onto the floor, which is wooden, and not a surface for colliding with, if you are an antiquated bauble.
Elsewhere is bitterly cold: this is the hot, blue, singing world, here, where I am.
12 comments:
oooh oooh ooohhhh. Goggle eyed santa has inspired me to post a picture of my absolute favourite ancient tree guy. The little cheeky violinist! There is something so special about those old ornaments...every year, they're a little more fragile, a little more faded. Very Vogue packaging on the corporate gifts by the way. Well done you good corporate wife you.
This post was so beautifully written.
I hope your mother's operation goes well.
I hope your mother does well. I was so taken in by your writing today which makes it easy to imagine your December from my December...
Hey! I enlarged the Goggle-eyed Santa and I can see you!
*waves hello to twin sister*
Good luck to your Mother for her surgery.
Hugs Fifi.xx
I hope everything goes well with your mother. It is hard to imagine that somewhere else in the world people are looking forward to their summer holidays and complaining about the heat.
ganching
Hope your Mother is Doing Well....
Take Care, Lou X
I second Little Things' first comment: I hope your mom does well.
The first part of this entry in which you describe all the vibrant greenery and lush fecundity of your part of the world was beautiful. Truth to tell, my image of Australia is (perhaps unfairly) of arid and semi-arid conditions.
By the way, I love the goggle-eyed Santa.
thank you for all your kind comments.
The mother sails on, over her own little ocean.
Yes, it is green and lush here, especially compared to usual.
BTW, Little things, where are you? I am waving, but you are gone!!
yes, miss jane, I have been a good corporate. Gets me extra points. hehe.
i love those old tree decorations. my evil big sister nicked all my gran's and mom's. i especially like an old, once chocolate teddy, wrapped in silver foil, with a red bow around his neck. he was an old style teddy, about four inches high, and he always stood at the trunk of the tree. he was so so old, as old as my mum, and he felt all light and hollow and the chocolate had turned white and fossil like. i always wanted to try a bit but never did.
hope mum is still sailing well
;0)
Oh dear, so sorry about your mother. Hope things improve. Thinking of you.
Love the agapanthus. I nurture my few agapanthuses along but at the moment they're just withered sticks. However, today is the shortest day. There is hope!
Post a Comment