Days are filled with quiet pleasures here, no bells and whistles. But then bells and whistles are here and gone in an instant, bouncing off the surface of things. What happens here seeps deep into your marrow while you’re not looking.

Yesterday’s weather event has had a happy ending. It’s still raining this morning and the bush is looking very pleased with itself. A ‘being washed by the rain’ kind of pleased with itself. Nourished green. The frogs in the pond enjoy their watery haven with or without the precipitation. Due to the volume of rain, their ponds are just about to involuntarily begin their promised cascade down the hill. All’s well with the world.

I’m starting to count down the remaining days here. Sadly after today, there are only two more full days before I say a Birrarung good bye.   The temptation to fill every minute with activity and make plans and lists is very strong but there is such a danger in that, distracting from just being here and trusting.

The internet difficulties defeated the experts once again yesterday. I’m going to try out the Eltham Library or perhaps Lilies on Brougham to post yesterday’s and today’s blogs. A very wise friend suggested that the internet is not working for good reason. While I’m here I can’t have direct contact with the bzillion others on the www. I’m left to my own and Birrarung’s devices…not a dongle in sight.

This place has it’s own plan for me and is ultimately looking after my creative welfare in the best possible way. It’s provided me with an experience of freedom, that’s given me a deeper understanding of why individuals and communities do ferocious, courageous things to preserve it. It’s meant cosy evenings of reading and writing and reviewing photos and talking in the warmth of my enormous fire with those lucky enough to share this experience with me for just a little while. So struck have I been by the quality of life possible without the internet that last night I told my significant other that I’m going to make one day a ‘connection free’ day when I get back to Isiiad. No peeking at google analytics, no emails, no Sartorialist… mmm… now there’s a challenge. You dear readers are now my witness in this enterprise.

I’m going to close this post now as I can hear my painting/weaving ‘project’ calling from the studio. Did I mention the timeless quality here?…