The wattle is out.
It can mean only one thing.
It must be late August.
The quintessential Australian sign that winter is nearly over.
A riot of delicate yellow fluff …
A promise of sunny days to come …
I wanted to capture it for you ….
but by the time I’d finished work …
I’d missed that beautiful late afternoon light
I’d missed the yellows ….
…but I found you some blues.
Have a lovely week.
And stay tuned for I have some surprises in store 🙂
destination: here&now 
Beautiful grey blues Marg. I heard that corny old John Williamson song ” the cootamundra wattle” yesterday on Macca’s “when all at once my childhood never left me ’cause wattle blossoms bring it back again.” and “don’t buy the daily paper any more, woman, read all about what’s going on in hell. They don’t care to tell the world of kindness, good news never made a paper sell.” So glad you do.
Thanks matey. It’s funny how some things, like these seasonal changes, are so much a part of our pysche. I’d yearn for the bush if I lived overseas.xx