Goodbyes

I can hear the sound of a heartbeat before it goes out

Won't ever leave my memory of bloodshed all around

(Goodbye, Ramsey)

As summer in Tallaganda finally joins the rest of the world in letting it rip, the spiders now emerge openly from their hidden places and rejoice in force. Every blade of grass is covered in webs, eight different subspecies of funnelweb males from the high forests are on the march and trapdoors are constructing labyrinths on my paths. The air is thick with insects and a thousand goodbyes that did need not be.