Friday, May 8, 2009

Stubble fields


Driving further west I find the land a little less interesting. The wheat is harvested in the summer time so most of the fields are looking bare at the moment.

Musing:
From Ode to Autumn by John Keats
"While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;"

2 comments:

  1. Is this out past Dubbo ... well the line of Dubbo ...

    When I was inland the land was flat and red and dry for as far as the eye could see. If I had a mattress I would have coped better. I found the ecology freeing.

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  2. It is south west of Dubbo, not far enough to hit those endless red plains ... The desert country does have an amazing quality to hit our spiritual heart, in Australia and elsewhere ... perhaps that's why the mystics seemed to like deserts.

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