secret: the end of the world, or Day 16 of 30pictureschallenge

in Australia in summer it is inevitable that things burn. tonight, somewhere near Armidale, there is a fire- with a bit of a wind, the streets are full of smoke. on dusk, it seems as though the town is almost empty. it truly feels like a post-apocalyptic reality. me and Maude are making our slow way up the hill to home (she's too keen for second gear and not quite sharp enough to take advantage of third up these hills, i never really know what to do with her). i half expect newspapers blowing past us with headlines increasingly threatening and bleak, like the movies.

my favourite post-apocalyptic movies are those like i am legend, children of men, 28 days later or city of ember, or even the island (which might be a little bit about scarlett and ewan). the anarchist inside of me likes watching societies fall apart (it doesn't have to be a nuclear holocaust, just a good old-fashioned dissolution of the powers that be). i like seeing who takes the lead, who the scriptwriters and directors think is worthy of the power.

because i'm a feminist, i'm particularly interested in what sort of female figures our scriptwriters have imagined. it's interesting how sometimes, the roles of women don't change at all, as though that's too hard to imagine, even though when you're making stuff up you can imagine anything you like.

once upon a time, i wanted to write my honours thesis about the role of women in post-apocalyptic literature. now, i really really wish i had done it. i could go back and do it sometime, you know. i wanted to write about isobelle carmody's obernewtyn series, and margaret atwood's the handmaid's tale. even thinking about this now makes me want to write a blog a billion words long.

for now, i imagine myself roaming the world in my trusty van (who goes forever and never ever breaks down because she's old enough there are no computers in her and i can fix her with my somehow-acquired mechanical skill....). stay safe out there kids. safe from fires, safe from smoke, and safe from zombies.

treasure: home town Autumn

I'd forgotten about Autumn in Armidale. It is by far my favourite time of year in my hometown, and if you stick around I'll tell ya why.

You know how there's a saying someone said once about not noticing things that are right in front of you? When I left home at 18 for the big city of Melbourne, I wasn't particularly caught up in seasons or country air or any of the like. I imagined bulk coffeeshops and walks through a city full of strangers, tram rides and smog and all kinds of glamourous stuff like that. Melbourne had a bit to offer in the way of autumn, but as far as deciduous trees lined up in rows along the streets, turning red and yellow, the parts of Melbourne I knew had nothing on home.

When I moved to Canada, ironically this time to escape the strangers and smog (but I'll love coffee and trams forever, I swear) I didn't think to look for Autumn. Instead there was Fall, and it was cold and rainy. Constant rain for days, unlike anything I'd ever seen. In Australia, any wet weather passes before too long, but in Canada, weeks might pass between bursts of direct sunlight. Rain turned to first snow before the end of October and the anticipation of winter was palpable. So Fall was something to live through rather than a season I noticed.

It's my first full Autumn in Armidale since I was in my last year of high school, 10 years ago this year (I know this because we have a 10 year reunion this year, which is a scary business). It's been 10 years since I've seen the leaves change. The days get visibly shorter; the air gets noticeably cooler, and the smell of fallen leaves is everywhere. I forgot that fallen leaves have a smell, and it's a smell that makes me remember raking up piles of leaves under an oak tree at my granny's house and jumping off a low branch right into them. There are photos of us as kids half buried in leaves, full of grins and simple pleasure. Nothing has been quite so satisfying since then, not in that same uncomplicated way anyhow.

I've been struggling a little with committing to Armidale for the past few months, feeling a desire to escape back out into the world. Some bit of my brain believes I'm on a search for the place a belong, but I know that really there's plenty of places I could belong, if only I'd allow it. Or maybe I'm just wishing for the kind of home I wrote about last year.

As I drove away from work today, at the top of north hill the sky opened up into this beautiful pink sunset. I've seen some nice sunsets in my time, but I have to say that this part of the world does the best I've seen so far.

Just for a second (and it was such a long second) things were perfect. The leaves were red and yellow, the sky was pink. I wanted to take a photo, but instead I decided to take on the challenge of using my words.

Maybe I don't know much, but I know about how love feels. And that second, it felt a little bit like that.