Framed & Ready to Hang

"Apart from three shrieking cockatoos flying northward, there was silence. I cut across a dirty field and headed down to the lake. The foreshore was carpeted with thick spongy succulents.

Reaching the edge I saw an expanse of fine dark dust stretching into the distance. At the very least I was looking forward to a gentle breeze freshening my face after the long drive.

But there was nothing. No breeze, no sound. Just a huge sky silently changing shape"