Hello everyone,
I turned 50 the other day. While not being one to make a great big blip about birthdays, preferring to let them fly under the radar, it was nice to celebrate with those closest to me and it did feel like something of a milestone. The family and I packed the car and camper trailer and made a roadtrip down to my brother’s place at Armidale, where we feasted on woodfired pizzas and relished sunset views to the hulking figure of Mt Duval. This was followed by a night camped beside the Deepwater River. It wasn’t our best camping experience (no toilet paper etc!) but the river itself was a sinuous wonder.
At dusk, with the water turned to glass and cloud wisps on the horizon reflecting a rockmelon glow, I had the strong sense of my life shifting from one season to another. I understood that I was no longer a young man. The nighttime stiffness in my big lump of a body confirmed this, yet still, in my mind I feel youthful, brimming with ideas and a desire to grow in character and wisdom. One of my life philosophies is kaizen, the Japanese concept of continual improvement. I’m never content to rest on my laurels. Curiosity, exploration and movement are my mantras.
With this in mind, I feel that I owe it to you, my subscribers, to explain where on earth I disappeared to the last few years. I’ll start at the beginning.
In 2021, after some rough years of drought, bushfire and pandemic, I found myself googling the words “burnout symptoms”. It turned out that yes, I had some. I’d become cynical and uninspired. My enthusiasm for writing had ebbed and I began to long for reinvention. I decided to end my 20 year career in garden writing, resolved to explore other interests, and decided to pursue a childhood dream to build a boat. I needed a tangible, hands-on project, so over nine months between April and December I tinkered away in my shed to produce “Miss Dee”, a 15 foot wooden sailing dinghy named for my amazing and endlessly supportive wife, Kylie Dee.
For a while I thought I might become a landlocked boat builder or a furniture maker, but writing, for decades an incessant voice in the depths of my brain, continued to call. With the boat launched I decided to complete a Master of Creative Writing at Macquarie University. After a year and a half of study I graduated in November last year with six out of eight subject awards and an award for academic excellence. Studying full time in middle age was a wonderful experience and after getting my fancy piece of paper I considered applying for a PhD and perhaps becoming an academic. The logistics of this have proven too difficult, and besides, my instincts when starting the course were to make a break from garden writing, to improve my writing technique, and to explore the kind of creative work I dreamt about way back in high school.
So here I am, on the other side of 50 (and what some will call a mid-life crisis), starting a spanking fresh newsletter. I’ve decided to call it Leaf Treader, a name I’ve sat on for years and that I was using as the working title for a failed novel. I still like the idea of it, the suggestion of movement and trees, of being outside amongst it all. Hopefully it gives a pretty good suggestion of a newsletter that’s preoccupied with the natural world and that features writing in various forms. Call it nature writing if you wish.
I want to include non-fiction essays, short pieces of fiction and the occasional poem and at this stage, I’m planning to release a new edition on Tuesdays and Thursdays - a short piece earlier in the week followed by a meatier piece later. I’ll throw in a few of my photos for good measure. For the time being the newsletter will be free to anyone who wants to have a read, but as writing is essentially my day job, I’ll soon be making it possible to support my work with a paid subscription.
I’m aware that many of you signed up to my mailing list when I was writing mostly about gardening. As the scope of this newsletter is different, I’ll show no offence at all if you decide to cancel your subscription. If, however, you enjoy my work and want to keep hanging on for what promises to be an interesting ride, I’d love it if you would share the newsletter with a friend. The more, the merrier.
Thankyou all for your encouragement over the years. Let’s pop a cork to Leaf Treader!
Cheers,
Justin
Welcome to the ‘latter half of your century club’ Justin. Look forward to reading about your adventures.
Good luck Justin and your wonderful family in whatever you do - we've always enjoyed the way you string words together to produce meaning. Cheers. Denis.