It is deliciously wintry in Canberra. Each morning, I wake up at 6:30, a clear half hour before any skerrick of dawn. The sky is pearly silver and pink. When I drive to work each morning, the world is either enigmatic and foggy or harshly bright and clear. Mt Taylor, a suburb or two behind us, is veiled and robed every morning. I love it. I love every frosty cobweb, every shivering morning. I can’t get enough of the beauty and peace of winter, with long, peaceful nights, silvery mornings and days of endless clear blue skies.
But there are some things I miss about the warm months. I miss sitting on back porches, drinking and talking until sunset, which isn’t until nearly eight o’clock. And I miss these.
Ooh, baby. I miss the smell, the texture, the taste. I miss the colours and the plump weightiness of them.
M discovered they’re exquisite on raisin toast with blue cheese and maple syrup. I grew to love them with warm fresh bread and really robust cheddar or blue cheese. Oy. And those colours…like pomegranates, I think they are simply beautiful. They look delicious and exotic and heavenly. I’ve been saving these pictures for a while.
Magnificent.
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Incidentally, if you would like to see some photographs that are at least a million times better than any fig, I suggest you head over to the Gods cafe in the ANU grounds. There is a photography exhibition on at the moment which I heartily recommend. The excellent creature behind Cutflat is hosting his first exhibition, and I can honestly say that it is exquisite, interesting and beautiful. Go and see for yourself.
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