22
Kerina
Constance leads me to the track behind their house. It winds along behind the other homes toward the river. It is easy to imagine the animals that must have frequented this place once. Ducks, birds, swans. Most of them are extinct now.
Sweet smelling acacia plants and xanthorrhoea grasstrees sit along the river’s edge.
‘Did you know the nectar from these flowers can be used to create a thick, alcoholic drink?’ says Constance, breaking the silence. ‘Many people have tried, most with limited success.’ She laughs.
I stop to smell the plant. The scent is fresh and reminds me of twilight on a hot day.
‘You are getting your strength back so fast,’ says Constance.
‘It must be Manny’s soup.’
A bench seat forms from a fallen tree. It allows a perfect view of the river as it meande
