Recently I’ve seen the tea tree flowers all twisted and circling, white and lightly scented, with bees. I’ve seen the paperbark begin their march to a seemingly early opening of similar flowering. I’ve seen the towering canopy of marri trees, all white and powder coated, starlike in the day. I’ve seen the red of what I assume are yorgums opening bright and forcefully. And I’ve seen the yellow of illyarrie pushing through their fiery caps also seemingly early.

I’ve seen the colours of birak—the first summering. The white of the too-bright light of this city. The red of the warmth of this place, firelike and flaming. The yellow of the inbetween-ness, of a more-evening sun gently setting, more like the next season seeping in.