Chapter 29
Swathes of sweet-scented wattle perfumed Bronwyn’s bush garden. Bright blossoms abounded: magenta callistemon, scarlet grevilleas and a colourful collage of day lilies. High up in the air, Clare could hear the refrain of a butcherbird piping a tune; on the ground, the buzz of bees on nectar-laden flowers. Merriang in late October was truly glorious.
Clare sat out on the verandah with Bronwyn, watching Jack and Timmy play in the wading pool. Samson kept leaping in and out, showering the boys with water and provoking squeals of delight. ‘I hope you don’t mind me bringing Samson along.’ They both smiled as Jack tipped a bucketful of water over the dog’s head. ‘Those two are inseparable,’ said Clare. Samson shook himself in a rainbow of spray, showering Jack with water all over ag
