We are at Berrima, Rick and I.
We wander around outside the Berrima Correctional Facility. It is an abandoned facility and an eerie one at that. We follow its sandstone wall down to a cul-de-sac and, from there, we watch the sun disappear below the horizon.
We meander back along the road while I search for light, shade, shapes, textures, and vignettes to capture with my camera. We attempt some shots at the court house before wandering back past the jail. Rick wants to linger but I’m keen to leave the site. We find a tree with cherry blossoms, and I finally smile.
We watch birds fly around in the sky, migrating from one tree to another.
We admire the pink and purple in the sky as the magic hour ends and twilight begins.
We see trees everywhere with no leaves, looking stark, grey, and eerie.
A weeping willow, in particular, leaves me feeling haunted, and I find myself wondering whether some ghost stories are, in fact, true…