Yesterday, for the first time since May, I ran an errand – taking myself to the optometrist.
In my steampunk book (set mainly in Australia), I keep describing various bits of bushland as silvery-green, grey-green, dull green and grey, etc. As I drove along gaping at the foreignness of familiar streets, I realised how very wrong I was. There are trees with oval leaves in pale blue, others with leaves pointed like spears, black trunks bleeding red sap, others peeling away like snakes sloughing their skin, wattle bushes with sprays of soft spheres in brilliant yellow. Altogether, bushland (even by the side of the road here in the city) is red, orange, purple, black, green, silver, gold, pale blue and purple.
I’ll be correcting my error in the book shortly.
Canberra is surrounded by hills that are usually blue with distance. In Winter they become sharper, clearer, and full of detail – including hats of pristine snow. For me, yesterday was the first day this year to see that snow.
Tomorrow: Details of my twelve-week ultrasound.