Mists and mellow stuff
Good Friday morning brought the first frost. A few days later, another. Everything in the garden takes a day or two and then wilts and goes brown. This year we were ready, Jan pulled up the basil in the dark, kept it in a bucket for a week or so, then we made pesto and preserved some in oil for winter. The winter load of firewood is delivered and I started working my way through splitting it. Although the gas heater keeps the kitchen warm, Jan seized the first cut load of wood and lit the fire just for comfort. 

It's time for soups again, and in the morning, there's steam rising from the cup of lemon tea in the colder morning air. 

My daughter Aurore came up from Melbourne and we spent some time at the movies (we both liked Princess Mononoke) and did some shopping for her clothes. In the garden I broke off a rose thorn and stuck it on my nose with spit. It was a country kid thing that she'd never seen or ever realised that the thorns came off. She suggested a dinosaur row of them and took my picture. We get close then she's gone again.

 
The new Australian Museum in an uncrowded moment It's cold outside, really..sunny but cold. I spent some time photographing the lights in the food court School holidays and young girls in groups The house smelled of basil, that mix of cat's piss and pleasure
The large lItalian eaves and smaller variety, catch the lower winter light Just picking the whole clean leaves reduced it to one bowl The best soup mix is the Italian blend, rinsing it I had to stop Sleeping in, the later low sun catches Jan's morning tea cup steam Dinosaur Fred

The Saga of the Cedar Tree is ending, the drifting pollen has gone and the soft tassels soak up the rain, get heavy and fall off. We rake them into furry heaps and they compost down well. These been some fog around on the morning drive. I've swerved for the road edge trying to take some definitive foggy shots. I arrive at work with wet legs covered in cobwebs.

 
A skeleton leaf in the cedar Small furry cedarpillars The Sonza poplars, turning yellow later than most The light changed quickly as the sun came through the fog clouds The barn again and a sky by Turner
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