A trail through the leaves where the river leads …
It is the most gorgeous sun-plashed day. Somewhere, someone is having a pacemaker tested. An ambulance arrives in the shopping centre car park because a woman can’t breathe.
I have been thinking about writing residencies for a little discussion at the Australian Society of Authors, which led me to want to follow where ever the river leads me, again.
Alone, as I was, here is how I saw the river Esk as she slides towards a bend at the furthest boundary of the property
a mile from Roslin. There were harled ruins of a cottage and on the far bank, the Lady’s Castle.
And there was a precipice I visited, where at evening the sound and colour of the trees, the gorge, the water
were braided, all soul. It was so beautiful to drink, deeply, beyond words.