eucalyptus in black and white

Old photos on old film.
Old memories frozen in black and white.

We'd seen a Eucalyptus tree fall in the field behind our house, and, following the stiff, sweet smell, we trudged through the tall grass outside our fence in search of the pungent branches.

When you are young and in Africa, time seems to pass in an arbitrary fashion, swift then slow, and we were never pressed for it. That afternoon, we sat in the field, weaving eucalyptus and weeds as the dust blew in puffs around our crossed ankles.

We brought the eucalyptus home, hanging it to dry.
And there was a fittingness to it.
Because it was an excellent day.


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