I am not a reviewer, but rather use books as an inspiration and contemplation of my own thinking. Here I am in conversation with Rebecca Solnit’s Wanderlust. She and me are not truly alone in this slice of time. She towers over telephone poles and solar-panelled roofs, keeps a careful watch on early-morning tradies in their silver-backed utes, on-route to worn-out homes where dodgy plumbing competes with debt and architectural dreams. She holds tight to the Ironbark trees that emerge from her granite belt and explode into lemon blossoms that cover in my suburb once a year. It is both loud and quiet here, at this time of day. My boots crunch in time with birdsong and its varying octaves and timbres, depending on size, colour, and line of flight. Kookaburras introduce the day in this part of the world, followed, in a close second, by Rainbow Lorikeets and Sulphur-crested Cockatoos. Their atonal symphony sings stories of this range: the then and the now. I’m just not sure how many of us are listening. Or walking.
All the ….male-ohs! Oh how I laughed...
This writing resonated with me deeply as I pondered all the walks I do not take out of fear. Time to get out there.
Absolutely! Get those hiking boots on. Thanks for reading. x