though but an angle reached him of the stone

After two weeks of sun, last night's rainfall was a blessing.

It is all illusionary today — the fantasy of cowboyism, the western Yippee Syndrome of spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle, of hats as large as Bangalore parasols, of boots smeared with the residue of cowlots […]

I climbed to a small ridge under a fiercely blazing sun and sat down under a scraggly gum tree to try and work out my bearings.