Home

Home now.

 

I’ve been out of the Outpost for seven weeks what with one thing and another.

By the time I get home, I am very happy to be here – wherever you live (even when its far flung and lonely) it’s always delicious to get home – back to Ant, back to the dogs, back to the cat who has not noticed my absence and is utterly indifferent to my return (unlike the dogs who are besides themselves with happy delirium and dash about bringing me presents of leaves and sticks and whining their pleasure and wagging tails so hard they are almost bent in two – as Ant always says, Labradors love their owners more than their wives do – how does he know, ‘lock both in the boot of your car for an hour and see who’s more pleased to see you when you let them out!’. )

 

It took two days to wind our way inland – Mum and me – from salty, sultry, sandy, beachy east back to the wild wayout west. Traffic thinned as we drove. From hectic nose to tail, life in your hands, lines of lorries to places where you can zip along far too fast watching the bush blur past because there’s almost nothing else on the road.

 

traffic

 

And I take another two days to unpack and shake the sand from shoes and gather up all the bits and pieces floating at the bottom of my case, errant and important sheets of paperwork that I’ve ignored for seven weeks and now have no excuse not to tend to.

 

It is easier, I observe, to come home to a place that my children did not recently fill with noise and laughter and banter and bickering, it is easier to come back to a place that’s quiet, except for my Ant who I have not seen for two weeks and those glorious animals who I’ve not seen for the best part of two months. They stay very close for now, watching me closely for signs of imminent departure.

 

But for now I’m not going anywhere.

******************************

rain

 

The rain comes down hard this afternoon. This is our Wet Season. We have only one here in the west: for 7 months of the year we are popodom-crack dry, the sand biscuit coloured and bare, the sky an eternal, omnipresent, predictable, reliablyabsolutleyclearofclouds blue, and for the other five we are buffeted by glorious storms that bustle in full of shouty attitude. They bluster about and throw tantrums with fists full of lightening which they hurl to the earth in bursts of furious energy, and angry growls of thunder and the rain comes tipping down. And the garden suddenly reveals itself and stuff I’ve long forgotten I planted comes to life and the toasty earth is carpeted in green and the trees shiver at the deliciousness that comes with slaked thirst

 

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2 Responses to “Home”

  1. Ad dy Says:

    Another beautifully descriptive post. I particularly love “popodom-crack dry” ….. I can just envisage it.

  2. Ellie Says:

    ‘Full of shouty attitude’ — I love that 🙂 I feel that way at times!

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