Diary of A Witch Doctor, 10/July/2022

My rather wet backyard (c) A. Harrison

It began – and ended with rain.

I love lying in bed and listening to the rain thumming over the corrugated iron roof, but as the creek rises and my yard turns into mud it becomes too much. Once again the causeway flooded and for a few days access from my little road to the outside world lost.

Thumming. There is no such word, but that is the sound the falling rain made.

Flying to Brisbane for work, I barely made the plane as the Hunter River broke her banks and Newcastle was flooded. Brisbane, however, was a world of sunshine, and I managed to interrogate a few dinosaurs before flying back home to more rain.

I still struggle with my artistic life - always so tired, always so many practical things to do which seem to take precedence and drain my soul. Somehow I managed to find the time to cobble together photos I took while sailing the Cinque Terre and turn them into a video. Simple in theory, but it still takes me hours.

At least, with all the flying and lying in bed listening to the rain, I’ve done some reading. I’ve just started The Fossil Hunter, by Tea Cooper. As I’m only a few chapters in a review will follow later, but I ‘love part of it takes place in Wollombi, NSW, a five minute from our weekender. A wombat has a made a home in our backyard, and kangaroos are usually on the law as we drive in. In a gully nearby I’ve spotted lyre-birds, incredibly shy birds whose imitations of other bird calls are so perfect they leave other birds in the shade. they’ve even been known to imitate chainsaws and telephones.

A friend in the backyard, Laguna (c) A. Harrison

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