The Old Railway Viaduct Model of My Writing
|Old Train Creek Crossing|
Lichens discolour the edges of the timbers. The giant screws holding the railway sleepers (cross-bearers) onto the beams are rusted solid. The rails themselves are rusted.
You'd be taking your life into your feet, crossing it, it is so rickety. And worse, brown snakes (aggressive and venomous) live along the span.
The timbers of the foot of the stanchion in the creek are about the only bits that look halfway to sturdy.
Beyond the viaduct the landscape is wonder-fully green. I can see tobacco bush, camphor laurel and even some yellow which is probably the introduced senna. All these are major weeds.
My writing habit is as rickety as this bridge at the moment. My personal viaduct, the build, renovations, builders, are taking my attention. Good weather, ie winter sunshine, tempts me to be out in it. Without any writing implements.
The green world beyond beckons, even the weedy ones that will never let me go. The water below is only a shallow barrier in dry weather. I should wade across.