At dawn, I pedaled hard for five kilometres to the Nathan Street bridge, and then home again, thinking of the beacon shining at the end of what would be long and intense day of writing. That beacon wa...
Early this morning, dew shimmered like a glistening sheet fitted to the contours of the golf course’s dips and rises. Mist hung over the parkway’s lawns as I ran past Aplin’s Weir, glad to b...
Beneath clear skies bordered with a frill of white cloud in the west, I strolled the northern and western edges of the Townsville Golf Club, which – as proudly proclaimed at the golf club gates – ...
On Saturdays, when Vilis and I shop for groceries, we make a point of buying something new – fresh figs, dragonfruit, Tim Tams, paté with port, wine-infused fig and almond cheese dip, and so on. On...