Little Picnic

This collection draws on the my memories of being one in a family of 9, and heading off from our urban, seaside home to visit the Australian countryside of my mum’s ancestors, in central Victoria.

 

It reflects that on arrival we be met by the fertile earthy aroma's of Autumn,  or the charcoal-like lines of bare Wintery trees, by the sweltering song of Summer cicadas, or the fragrant drenching of Spring bulbs. Central to my memories is the generous picnic basket that would always be thoughtfully packed full complete with a thermos full of hot tea, luscious home baking galore, and spare bottles to collect the available mineral spring water. I remember the warm welcome offered by the land having the space to play. The view of a distant aqueduct and the lovely scented old trees we sat amongst gave way to hours of imaginative play til well after sunset, and feathered with relaxed, full-belly, laughing til you fell down, from a seemingly endless stream of cousins and kin joining in on these days

 

These memories still supply an access point to dwell in that rich sense of nurture. When weary, all I need to is reflect, to be gifted a wry smile for my efforts.