It is quiet here, almost sleepy - the muffled traffic drone from the road below travels up towards me. Our house lies in a sheltered spot, nestled, so to speak, in the middle of its acre, surrounded by huge lemon gums. In front of the house rises the undulating grass and behind, you look down upon a sweep of coastal plain. You can see quite far and in the far distance the bay and across from that the You Yangs. Just now Spring is about to end and everything looks lush and green. It's very hot, oppressively still weather today; the houses below shimmer in the sun. There is an affinity between the earth and the sky as the houses melt into the haze.

Our house, an angled building, seems to grow out of the earth. Its roof tiles are covered in moss and although less than a quarter of a century, it seems older as if it has stood here for a long time.

The earth has a damp smell and on the air hangs the scent of eucalpt leaves. The garden is a riot of colour, geraniums, pansies, daisies and roses. Native bees and insects swarm creeping and flying amongst the flowers. The sky is a silver-grey blue, with a drift of wind clouds, the gum leaves whisper their secrets in the slight breeze. The birds are silent in the heat. Nothing moves ...