The season of dust

29 08 2012

Dust dry

Dry. Dust-dry. It is the season of dust.

Blown mostly for it is the season of wind too but it also drifts. Wafts. Dust skrits and grits under the computer mouse like finger nails on a chalkboard. A patina on all horizontal and even vertical surfaces dulling the pictures in the office. Brown finger prints on the paper in the printer. Brown stains on shirt collars. Brown coagulated snot blown into the toilet paper.

Dust.

It piles on the cables under the desk discouraging pulling of electrical plugs. It is dry. Dry like the skin that scales and itches begging for moisture relief from a plastic bottle. The bush is dry too, begging desperately for rain that is still nearly three months away. It has to wait, patient and stark, stripped naked and scorched by fires that rage by day and glow at night.

Dust gathers and settles silently – day and night.

Feet no longer footfall but plopf soft in the talc dust. Paws kick up a trail of dust behind the running dog. Bicycle tyres lift a miniature upside-down waterfall of dust. It gets into the car through ageing seals, clogs air filters. It obscures the sun. It is everywhere. Insidious. Creeping.

It is the season of dust.





Muddy paws

15 11 2009

It’s the season of muddy paw prints in the kitchen. No matter how much I nag her Jenni just will not wipe her paws before she comes in!

The first storm has arrived – smack on time and it didn’t even trash the UHF aerial next door. I’d left it too late to go and unplug the aerial so just sat on tenterhooks until it had passed. Just as I unlocked the door the power came back on and the screen on the proxy server turned on – weird, for a moment I thought there was a ghost in the┬ámachine!

 

Acacia karroo

This acacia karroo has been flowering in my garden for the past 3 days