Margaret River Press Blog
There is a power in riding a horse. This is a sentence I have written many times, in several different contexts, but it is an idea I find myself coming back to again and again. The power isn’t just one of mass, or force, or brute strength. I’m not sure I know exactly what it…
When I was fourteen we spent several weeks chasing summer in France. The majority of my family are readers—apart from my youngest brother who wouldn’t know how to open a book. Towards the end of the trip we camped in Carnac, a place famous for its standing stones and Asterix and Obelix. There was an […]
The sun highlights a large spider web in the bathroom. It doesn’t look like the conventional webs that appear on Instagram with their perfect shape and pretty droplets of dew coating the fine strands. This one resembles a labyrinth with multiple layers, and it is dusty. It reminds me of how a story can unfold. […]
There is an ancient marri in front of the house that leans on a precarious forty-five degree angle. I found it one day when I got lost (again) wandering in the bush. Part of the trunk is darkened from old bush fires and the bark on the northern side is rough and protrudes unevenly, ready […]
There is an ancient marri in front of the house that leans on a precarious forty-five degree angle. I found it one day when I got lost (again) wandering in the bush. Part of the trunk is darkened from old bush fires and the bark on the northern side is rough and protrudes unevenly, ready […]
