Wandering Thoughts

February 20, 2010

Valley of the Lawn Mowers

My mother-in-law lives in the most beautiful place. We’ve been staying with her the last few days. In a valley of lifestyle blocks, not too far from town. It’s crisscrossed with stands of trees, eucalypts and pines, green against the blue, swaying and leaning, surfing the restless wind. Tall and old they sigh under the breeze, like water over the cobbles of a creek, like swells washing on a shingle beech. Or at least they would sound like that if you could hear them. Instead, from sunrise to set, all weekend, every weekend the sound you do get to hear is petrol powered lawn-mowers, and mulchers, and power-tools. Each as soothing as a dentist’s drill. The neighbours battling nature. Great. Talk about trying to get away from it all but bringing it all with you too.

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