Western Walkabout: House With Personality
"My house seems to like being where it sits and feels glad when I’m there,'' writes Richard Harris. " When I’m out, it sends the cat to sit at the front to watch for my return.''
I love my house and it loves me.
A citrus tree stands like a beacon at the front. A white mulberry tree provides a shady canopy at the entrance.
The house is full of corners where I can sit and write, or read, or just listen to music.
The laundry window stays open for the cat to come and go as she pleases.
It’s a welcoming house. Come and go as you please, it says to me. I’m well settled in it, with my small garden and mini ponds for singing frogs to spawn each new generation of tadpoles.
The garden is full of birds including those burglars, the parrots, who steal my almonds, looting the tree, and the tiny honey-eaters who tell me when my grapes are ripe – they’ve been there first.
My house seems to like being where it sits and feels glad when I’m there. When I’m out, it sends the cat to sit at the front to watch for my return.
