December (Canberra summer) — Caught in transition.
I feel compelled to take photos, both of the mundane and the unusual, as if to bear witness that these places, things, people and creatures, once existed and that they mattered. Read more
Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
I don’t know whether the bushfire smoke is getting to me, or whether I’m just going a bit batty, or maybe both. Either way, I sure don’t feel well. Depending on the way the wind is blowing, my True Love and I will nip outside for a breath of fetid air. On one of our brief walks, we saw a tiny colony of flying foxes (fruit bats) with what looked like several babies clinging to them. Flying foxes have been having a tough time of it over the last few years. They have been dying in their thousands from heat stress during increasingly frequent heatwaves. I can relate. I think I might drop off my perch too if I don’t get air-conditioning. Seriously though, it is a real problem. Read more
A little Aussie satirical poem because, well, life vapes and then you die. This is not the happiest poem so you may want to skip it.
It’s Christmas Time In the City
no joy no joy no
air no air no air none
kirribilli smokin’
white men jokin’
it’s Christmas time in the city
make haste to land of the smoke-free
blow smoke up ya
are we having fun yet?
not me not me not
happy mo-mo
no joy no joy no
air no air no air no
Christmas barbie in the city
Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. It happens when you’re starved of oxygen. I will resume my normal calm programming as soon as we can breathe again. Maybe in a few months time. Or maybe when we meet our Paris emission target through accounting loophole. Not happy mo-mo.
Regards.
Tracy
Australia. Perfect one day. Bushfires the next.
