Sometimes my mind flashes back to moments in time when I've had such a tranquil state of mind, when I sit down to write. Currently my mind is sitting on the porch looking down through the greenery, through the bees and dragonflies, through gardenias and geraniums, palms and ferns, toward the small eucalypt undergrowth and spying the calves licking each other in the shade. Lorikeets and peewees, finches and magpies warbling a distant tune.
I can picture the flowers smiling in their baskets framing the view, swaying in the slight breeze. I have a cup of tea sitting on an old stump lugged up here, with an astray, packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I'm resting before my duties. Cleaning the chookyard, shovelling cow manure into bags, mowing the lawn, carting water and hay, all before coming back again to admire the view with a well-earned beer in my hand. That is where my mind is and where I long to be. Just for a few days if only.