Sunday grumps

Oban, Scotland.

A quiet, cool afternoon. Rain on the roof. The sort of day when I dream about being in Scotland. Not because it’s always raining there, I just like Scotland (laughing). And when it rains here, the light is muted and grey, like it is in more extreme latitudes (I’m guessing). We hardly ever get light like that in Australia. Our sun is fierce and unforgiving. It casts hard shadows, high contrasts, it bleaches colours and dries the depths of all moisture. It’s not my natural sun; it’s not the sun I was born for.

I don’t know where my real home is. How do you know when you’re in the place you’re supposed to be? How do you know anything? Instinct? Is that different from impulse? or hope? or stupidity?

If it sounds like I’m bleating in a self-pitying way? Well, yes - yes, I am! It’s my blog and I’ll do what I bloody want, thanks very much. And I’ll cheer up any time now too, so please don’t venture to give me sympathy, if you’re that way inclined. This is how we all feel, sometime in our lives (guessing again).

Some pictures from yesterday:

(SARCASM>>>)** A nice relaxing walk with the dogs:



Despite the recent rain and ridiculously long grass, the creek is still not running properly. There are even seedlings growing where the water should be:



And the weeds here are unfortunately scenic:


Thistle


& something Fireweed-like (what's this called? I can't remember ever having called it anything at all, but it's now flowering everywhere).

And by the way: The Lord of the Rings is Australia's favourite book? Well, thank you, Peter Jackson!

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** Or is that irony? The walk was not relaxing, therefore I'm implying the opposite, therefore it's irony. I think. So now I don't know what sarcasm is. What does it matter? Well, yes, good question. I'll just shut up now. (Was that sarcasm? Or just me toddling off in a dismissive fashion? But I really will shut up now...)