Of bulbs and birches

August 22, 2014 by Fred Baker

After a few days of welcome (if inconvenient for moving house) heavy rain, the bare trees are glistening in the morning sunlight, and the bulbs beneath them are struggling to lift their heads.

I love winter birches: for their bark and the lichen it attracts, for their bobbles and fine branchlets and twigs and the raindrops they cherish.

Some of the fat snowflake clumps are flattened…

…the first shy daffodil heads are about to unfold, and the fallen autumn leaves escape the wind by huddling amongst new iris leaves.

Peeping through my fingers Glimpses of childhood, old age – and the dangerous bits in between.
A linked collection of my fictional short stories, funny or poignant, but always perceptive, imagined from observations of my fellow humans in our hopeful stumble through life.

Rich Land, Wasteland — How coal is killing Australia. Exposing the facts behind the spin, sharing true stories of the long term negative impacts of the coal and gas invasion, from broken rivers to broken hearts.

The Woman on the Mountain A candid meander through my life on my remote mountain wildlife refuge, answering the oft-asked question of ‘Why do you live way out there’? – and how I became such a weird woman as to want to!

Mountain Tails Illustrated tales for animal lovers about the wild creatures who allowed me to share their living space — and a plea to look after them before it's too late.