Edition1

by TONY STEVEN WILLIAMS Despite summer’s glare, it’s twilight in here with a faint but not unpleasant woody smell. I sit on the bench, pull up my binoculars, focus across the wetlands at black swans:  a family feeding in the…

by TONY STEVEN WILLIAMS  On the rammed earth of this dam wall, I rest my backpack, look across the water under gentle summer twilight. Something sad  yet glorious about those drowned gum trees. Their silver-grey skeletons stag-horn above the gleam…

by TONY STEVEN WILLIAMS  Those high ridges of red gum, hugging the Murrumbidgee near Narrandera, long banished from the rear vision mirror. An occasional stunted tree stands up, untidy as an unplucked feather. Wire fences etch meaningless boundaries across a…