The last days of Spring.

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 The last month of spring, actually; it’s been pleasant and everything is blooming. Jacarandas are in flower and the whole town smells honey-sweet, the trees will soon lay their purple carpet as the flowers fall.

Not a great photograph and it doesn’t show the Poincianas vying for gaudy supremacy. It’s a wonderful sight to see purple and red trees everywhere.

Native Bottlebrushes are beautiful, and the parrots love their nectar.

My jungle.

A birds-nest fern I planted decades ago, it’s now about 2 metres across and beginning to unfurl new fronds.

I was speaking to a friend recently, he’s English and has lived here for a long time but still isn’t used to the upside-down seasons – like Christmas in the middle of summer. When I was young, my parents always had a traditional hot Christmas dinner even if the weather was pushing 40 degrees celsius. Nowadays it’s seafood and white wine, people line up at the fish markets at 4 in the morning to buy their prawns and lobsters, etc. I have to admit that there isn’t anything very yuletide about it and I enjoyed proper Christmases when I lived in London, but we can (and do) have Christmas in July, especially in the mountains where there is a chance of snow.

I hope to return to sewing soon, this is the longest time without even one stitch.

Regards,
Will.

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