September
pollinates business-like, post-bushfire. Morning above the big ocean
wattlebirds arrive in the banksias. One pendulums on topmost, finding its beak
in every nook and bristle of a wiry cone. Wind helps the effect. Bird picks and
chooses each flower in loopy fashion, leaping about towers of branches.
Upsidedown the other threads fibres, shifts sideways lithe grey, an acrobat
about the sun. Artists have the devil of a time perfecting evolution’s simple
balancing act, plodding watercolour and words. Already morning fills with
sounds of ocean and greatest hits radio at a new construction site and the
cackles of departing wattlebirds.
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