I went driving through the mountains on the weekend. My destination was a santuary, a gallery set on a couple of hectares. 93 ceremic sculptures set in some of the most beautiful country I have ever seen.
I was by myself, so I turned left when the road to the left looked interesting and turned right when there was a sign pointing me in a different direction. The weather was beautiful. The sky was filled with whisps of clouds, and the sun was warm but not burning. The mountain air was cool enough to require a light coat, but warm enough to leave it open. I took photo after photo. The shades of green are fantastic. So many different shades, so many different textures... Stunning...
On the drive home I took a detour of my own choice. I'm driving down the curving traec, loving the twists and turns in the road. I've my window down, feeling the cool breeze and the sunshin on my skin. I round a curve and the blast of smoke hits me in the face. I look left and look right and there are no flames. The next corner exposes a recently burnt hillside to my left. It's strange to see the scar of the fire. I have to pull over so that I can take some time and soak it all in. I get out and walk across the road. Before me through the burnt tree trunks is a stunningly green valley. The blackness spreads before me, contrasting with the green. I turn to cross back across the road and notice that further up the hill, the bush was burnt a little earlier. There was a mass of green where new shoots had broken through the blackness.
I'm amazed at resilence of the Australian Bush.