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A beautiful photograph of stones.
Juxtaposed with feelings and thoughts.
Becoming memories written in stone.
A painful photograph of stones.
My sister, Wendy, has her birthday today.
I'll probably see her during the week, maybe in town.
What to do, where to go?
A scooter ride, to Box Hill.
Then what? Back home.
Could carry on down the road to the coast, sometimes did. Wrote something about this long ago.
Our stories of our mothers.
Knowing so little of my mother.
She hardly ever mentioned the war.
Neither my father.
Painful memories. A few photographs.
Our memories written in stone, and all around, colours, shapes, textures, reflections, creating atmospheres of wonder. With our difficult memories, a landscape of thoughts to explore, with words, feelings, and our photographs.