Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Going Home

All alongside the railway line the air is filled with the downy seeds of rose-bay willow herb and creamy white butterflies desperate for each other's company in the still sunny afternoon.

In the distance float church steeples above fields filled with wheat. Fat, full heads bent over in conversation with the warm earth.

Perhaps they contemplate the rush and swoosh of the air as the thresher swings it's way through the acres of gold and ochre grain.