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Reflections on a small garden
Jill Griffiths
2
Grandad built the original bridge, hewed the planks from jarrah he felled in the back bush. He sunk the posts into the creek bed in the middle of a dry…
Jill Griffiths
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With a busy day ahead, I set out early to walk the dog. It’s dark, with just a faint glow in the east heralding the soon-to-rise sun. There’s a slight…
Jill Griffiths
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We drive east from our house near the west coast, across the coastal plain and up the Darling Scarp. We leave the tuart and banksia woodlands of the…
Jill Griffiths
5
Floss doesn’t want to be ridden today. She turns away from me as I approach. A snubbing. I put my hand on her side and walk towards her head. She…
Jill Griffiths
4
I have been waiting for rain. The earth is parched, the garden in need of a good soak. On the evening news, the forecast offers promise – ‘a chance of…
Jill Griffiths
2
I like deserted trails. I get antsy when there are too many other people on the trail; joggers coming up behind me, slow walkers blocking the path…
Jill Griffiths
2
2
I’m not good with boats. Boats bother me. They’re not my thing. All that ocean. All that unknown depth. I get sea sick and I prefer to be on solid…
Jill Griffiths
1
2
I have been riding other people’s horses lately. One is Anakin, a big grey Thoroughbred ex-racehorse, a showjumper. Big and bold. Not the sort of horse…
Jill Griffiths
3
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Or thinking of stingers while swimming
Jill Griffiths
1
7
Years ago, I stood with one of my brothers looking out over a large water supply dam in the Perth hills. We had ridden up there on his motorbike, me…
Jill Griffiths
4
Seasonal reflections on place
Jill Griffiths
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2
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