Those fortunate enough to have nights of deep uninterrupted sleep are a select group I have envied for a long time. There was a time when I could be counted among such a group. My childhood and adolescent years brought nights of feather-quilt comfort and the security of knowing my parents and boxer dogs wouldContinue reading “Jean Stewart: A Search for Night Tranquility”
Category Archives: Individual Perspective
David Hope: E-Book or Hard Copy
Many of my friends and, I suspect, some among you, express a marked antipathy towards eBooks. Their most frequent expressions in the discussion are: ‘I like the touch and feel of a physical book.’ ‘I like to turn the pages.’ ‘I like the smell of a book, especially a new one.’ ‘I love to beContinue reading “David Hope: E-Book or Hard Copy”
Fran Collins: An Invitation
Sitting in a café in Broome in the monsoonal heat of the Kimberley, I struck up a conversation with an American woman. She introduced me to an unconventional way of living. ‘How would I like to volunteer on a station out of Derby in an exciting new enterprise? It’s a unique project. It uses ecology-basedContinue reading “Fran Collins: An Invitation”
Don Sinnott: Recollections of the Heysen Trail, South Australia
We’re loggers. Not the timber-cutting kind, but the kind who log their notable events in a journal. For years we’ve recorded recollections of journeys that bring a warm inner glow, peaks of joy and depths of gloom. We don’t intend to have others read our journals—although perhaps a later generation might skim them after we’veContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Recollections of the Heysen Trail, South Australia”
Edie Eicas: Through The Wire
The flush of excitement about the army had long lost its appeal and been replaced with familiarity and security. The group had seen parts of Australia none would have experienced had they not joined, and now they had friends. Mates they believed were solid, with whom they hoped they would step through life, who wouldContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Through The Wire”
Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project
‘I think we should’ve started this when we were 10 bloody years younger!’ she says, brandishing the sledgehammer and chisel she’s been using for hours to chip away at the bricked wall of the in-ground fishpond in the back yard. ‘You’re not wrong there,’ I say. ‘Clearly we built it to last. We’d have noContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project”
Lawrie Stanford: Fire Alarm
‘No, you won’t!’ Mary’s outburst was angry and insistent. ‘You’ve spent so little time with me and the kids because of your bloody devotion to work. The kids are on holidays and I’ve hired this beach shack, so you’ll damn-well stay with us.’ That was it, Mary’s outburst was compelling and there was no wayContinue reading “Lawrie Stanford: Fire Alarm”
Georgette Gerdes: Island Life
caught she wants to fly far, across the horizon to the island the island of safety hurt no more the logs flatten on fractured wings struggling in dirt pain, hot scorching beak open no sound gagged by distress gasping struggling to survive squashed helpless, ignored, discarded expendable but the Island is beautiful soft breezes turquoiseContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Island Life”
Anne McKenzie: On The Bus
‘The Department is a bus about to set out on a long journey, and I’m driving’, says our new Chief Executive Officer. We’re at mandatory leadership training for Supervisors and Managers—for middle management. She’s been with us for about two weeks and this is the first time we’ve met her. ‘Let me put this simply’,Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: On The Bus”
Georgette Gerdes: I’ve A Bone To Pick With You
It lies on the grass grisly and grainy; fat pokes out between the brittle maze of calcium castles, tufts of red flesh glistening, beckon a salivating dude, the main man. Sammy. He waits, alert, primed for action. ‘Sit, stay.’ He sits. He stays. The seconds are like minutes, are like hours, like an eternity. ‘GoContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: I’ve A Bone To Pick With You”
Don Sinnott: Zooming the Branch Committee
The ‘old-timers’ had memories of smoke-filled rooms, with big-bellied men, shirts dishevelled and slackened ties askew, shouting over each other as they jabbed the air making their point. Clay had no experience of that era but, even in the more civil times in which he had joined the local branch committee, he’d known some roughContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Zooming the Branch Committee”
Don Sinnott: Walkers Follow Ridge
Today’s start point for our walk is near Woolshed Flat, a whistle stop on the Pichi Richi rail line, halfway along the pass between Quorn and Port Augusta. A road, now badged the southern section of the Flinders Ranges Way, shares the pass with the rail line and crosses it at several points. Whether youContinue reading “Don Sinnott: Walkers Follow Ridge”
Lawrie Stanford: I’m a Corona-Conspiracy Theorist
Sitting at my desk this afternoon it became clear where the coronavirus came from. As my vacant gaze drifted across the desk, the design on a box of tissues forced itself into my consciousness. The origin of the coronavirus was revealed! It was in fact trumpeted by the perpetrators—Kimberly Clark the producers of Kleenex tissues! Continue reading “Lawrie Stanford: I’m a Corona-Conspiracy Theorist”
Don Sinnott: COVID Daze
Dan wasn’t a party a party animal. Never an expert in small talk, at social gatherings he either kept to himself or found a soulmate for a one-on-one chat. At work he was more attuned to planning business strategies in his own headspace than to the interactive ‘brain-storming’ sessions his management periodically called. His firmContinue reading “Don Sinnott: COVID Daze”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Part 5
I have a philosophy when it comes to trees and global warming. My position is that if you drive a car, you plant trees to offset your carbon miles. As a result, I proselytize; annoying a number of people but feel I have a responsibility, no matter what. My friends will tell you I’m tangential;Continue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Part 5”
David Hope: The Reader
The reader imagining they have been Transported away to places unseen Experiencing things dirty and clean Stuck in the mud with the African Queen Scoured from the sands by a wind so keen Washed by waters some clear, some saline. Mixed feelings of fear, feelings of joy The freezing cold of an Arctic convoy,Continue reading “David Hope: The Reader”
Sharon Apold: I Am Awake
Night… we meet again and again and again. In spite of my objection, for hours we will joust. Sleep, the elusive. I will grasp my pillow, wring that comfort dry. Night… you will shine your moon. I will toss, turn, defy your silent gloom. Awake… In that awful hour. The one of deathly quiet whenContinue reading “Sharon Apold: I Am Awake”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 3 and 4
Murder Another year and I still hadn’t learnt about scraps composting through the garden. The pumpkin seeds had generated again, and another group of vines spread through the front. At first it was water conservation and I ignored them but, with finding the first Butternut, a new plan emerged. I began watering in earnest. TheContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 3 and 4”
Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 1 and 2
The Garden I like to think of myself as a perma-culturist, a euphemism for a haphazard gardener. I’m the kind of person that if I eat something with seeds inside, I save the seeds. I’ve had peaches, nectarines, pomegranates, tomatoes, cucumber, peppers the list goes on. But, like any fertilized seed, what you get isContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Gardening Tales – Parts 1 and 2”
Nell Holland: Remember
I was born in England in a small Derbyshire town not far from a place called Eyam. It’s a beautiful area and I’ve always respected Eyam’s history, but now the world is gripped by a pandemic I applaud the forward thinking of its 17th century inhabitants. In 1665 the villagers isolated themselves so outsiders wouldn’tContinue reading “Nell Holland: Remember”
Burnside Writers Group 