A wander around the Adelaide Botanic Gardens, en route to the National Wine Centre, took me past the Lotus Pond. It is a forest of giant green leaves, with the impossibly pretty pink flowers rising tall above. Swaying in the breeze like some strange kind of radio receivers, the spent flower heads face the sun, in various shades of green, rust and brown. From deep within, hidden from view, a cranky water bird honks it’s disapproval at my presence.
By Amie Brûlée
Amie Brûlée is a musician, performer, teacher and researcher. She sings, plays piano, double bass and ukulele, unearths old songs and writes new ones. Amie also has a PhD in wine and anthropology and adores teaching wine tasting, gastronomy and song-writing. Amie lives in central Victoria with a house full of instruments, a head full of songs and a cellar full of wine.View all of Amie Brûlée's posts.