If you drive two hours north of Perth you get to the Moore River. I visited a friend of mine, Peter, who is a bee keeper and who has some land in this mostly flat and sandy country. The Menzies Banksias were wreathed with buzzing bees wherever I walked. Being allergic to bee stings, I was watching my back.
Down by the Moore River a friend’s child, Hamish, scampered through the tussled trunks of Paperbark trees.
Later, in a fit of Blake-like sermon-on-the-mount grandeur, the sun blasted its rays outwards.