I’m not going to show you all of where I live, but I wanted to show you the bush I back onto. It’s ancient, irrational and odd. I say odd, because there are concrete foundations out there and an old quarry with burnt out car parts.
The bush here bears little resemblance to forests. It always feels ancient and as if it speaks a different language. The trees where I am are largely Marri (also known as Red Gum). There’s burnt trunks weeping red sap and dead trees, silver and black. The dead trees always remind me of skeletons in a way. Animals make their homes in them, but when I drive home along one of the main roads I’m always struck by how stark and sinister they are with their long dead branches reaching out for you.
Even though I live on the edge of this it always feels like I’m stepping out into a different world.