Alan Mills
Susannah’s Cottage
Stepping off the verandah is like jumping into a living picture of stillness. The whole landscape hangs, becalmed, as though pausing for an answer to a question.
We see it all in one moment—the intense greenery in a paddock; the mud of an estuary; the distant hills covered in Kikuyu grass, Pohutukawa and Kanuka; the land and water suspended under motionless clouds of various shades of grey.
We are walking down a gravel road and there’s the sound of our boots crunching.
We marvel at the honking of a pair of Paradise Shelducks—the female’s white head bobbing in the paddock. We note the vegetation around us and point out the invasive weeds.
Pampas grass
the hills disappear
under its white plume
We reach a bench overlooking the meeting place of estuary, ocean and clouds.
Rays of light fall on Variable Oystercatchers wading on the mudflats. They respect their distance from each other. At the right moment, their bills strike and twist into the live shellfish. I sit on the bench and imagine myself with wings and thin stalking legs.
Red bills
trusting their future
to the mud
About the Author
Alan Mills lives in Hobart, Tasmania, Australia. He is a retired reference librarian and archivist whose interests include Daoist philosophy and walking in natural environments. He has a new-found love of haiku and haibun.