The Cold Acre

Today I danced with cold acres of wet and twisting turns. At Toolangi I worshipped the sun by C.J.Dennis' garden.











This weekend I felt strong anxiety, but when I connected with things more real everything felt very different. There is no post-modern dismissal of experience atop King Lake National Park in winter at dusk. The world is cold, hard, but true and beautiful.







Thank the elusive god for motorcycling!