A personal diary about life in a country town, Bungendore NSW Australia

  23 January 2004

Left and above. Driving home as an evening storm approaches just on the Queanbeyan side of town. Lots of noise and lightning but just a few drops of warm rain on the dry grass.
Summer grass

I don't suppose it's any more dangerous driving with a photographer than it is with someone just enjoying the scenery. I don't suppose...

Ok, who am I kidding. It's a lot more dangerous especially when the afternoon light turns yellow and slips across the long dry grass I've been meaning to stop and record for weeks. I get to thinking ahead for where I can get off the road safely and how much notice the car tail-gating behind will need to react, all the while making soft 'ohhh' "yes!" noises to Jan's amusement. Of course it's distracting but I stopped safely, not disturbing too much the line of cars behind traveling to the coast for the long weekend.

Before Christmas there was some hay making on the flats and those paddocks have started to re-grow. They stand out because they are still touched with an underlying green. It seemed almost that the rain and strong growth caught everyone by surprise after the drought. There's not enough stock to keep the grass down (the few cows in some paddocks are almost hidden, the grass is so tall). The paddocks have taken on a uniform soft blonde colour from the grass seed heads and as you drive along it looks like the hills are covered with a soft fur. It blurs the edges of things, such as fence lines and there are a couple of shallow eroded gullies that now have soft contoured edges. In the strong winds we've had, you also get the classic 'waves on the prairie' patterns. You can feel it's all alive.

In the last week I've watched that even pale colour changing a bit. Patches of orange are starting to show, the seed heads are dropping and the stalks beneath showing through. Driving to and from work I've been thinking that if I'm going to photograph, it will have to be soon. Coming home tonight from work, a bit later than usual for a Friday night, I was driving with a headache from the last miserable bit of flu, but I knew it was time.

Twenty minutes in the ozone charged air ahead of a thunderstorm, and another stop for a couple more pictures, I'd forgotten the headache and felt great. The working week was done, I was home.

I like living here. Winter and summer.




  Fred Harden 2003 <thinktag> After a few days, these entries are added to the Archive Menu

Bungendore Country Diary by Fred Harden