Sometimes you have to put down the pen or turn off the computer, and get out
into the fresh air. This is not really taking time off, because writers are
always working, even when they're asleep. Anyway, today I needed to rest my
eyes on something beautiful and, being November, jacaranda trees are in flower.
All of a sudden, familiar routes through the city have become a lucky dip, as
side streets reveal tantalising glimpses of electric colour. For the duration
of their short flowering season, even dull front yards and nondescript
architecture will be transformed. Driving down streets lined with mature trees
is like moving deeper and deeper into a heavenly blue tunnel. Pools of
lavender-blue dot the pavements, the result of a constant soft rain of petals.
Each year at this time I spend an afternoon walking through the jacaranda
streets. I take the camera, because I always stumble across beautiful patches
of the city I've never seen before. The colours and textures
of bluestone and sandstone, and the silvery grey of the brush fences that are
common here, complement the colour of jacaranda flowers.
Adelaide's traditional architecture seems
to come alive at this time of year, and verandas in deep shade never look more
inviting than when the sun beats on their tin roofs.
I managed to squeeze a mention of jacaranda into
Nights In The Asylum
and I am wondering whether to include it in the next book. For those of you in
the northern hemisphere, here are some pictures of my favourite trees to offset
the gloom of winter.
Musings on the Writing Life ...