Par­adiso Rap­ture of the Karri For­est

The Weekend Australian - Review - - Books - John Kinsella

Depth is height in ten­der soils, to fight against the planters and vint­ners, cow graz­ers and hob­by­ists. Some take their dogs into the na­tional park, eye off Gi­bral­tar Rock and the Devil’s Slide, kar­ris tall enough to prop up the sky, hold gran­ite walls, sup­port a tun­nel of air cleaner than logic. Still, in stip­pled light you’ll burn to the core, con­test a hi­er­ar­chy of monumental trunks out of the ferns, trauma of long- billed black cock­a­toos caught in myth and lament, perched too high, fly­catch­ers work­ing just above ground level. The walk­ers are all saved, tem­po­rally. That’s largesse in thick­ets, pos­i­tive re­in­force­ment in en­claves. De­liv­er­ance.

Re­ten­tion of moss.

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