ABC Interview

Filed in News

A recent interview by ABC reporter Peter Gunders is available for download from the local ABC website at



Forbidden Fruit

Filed in Flash Fiction

Dougie and Doreen are in trouble again Forbidden Fruit

Check out more of Susan’s Flash Fiction on the FLASH FICTION Page


A Frogmouth looked at me

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A Frogmouth looked at me


Two frogmouths in my garden

A frogmouth looked at me

We have a delightful variety of birds in our backyard and I am grateful for the pleasure I experience each day, watching them, hearing them and sometimes grabbing my camera and photographing them. I love to watch them lining up for a turn in the birdbath. The grey-crowned babblers give me hours of pleasure as I watch them steal my mulch to build huge mansions in the top of the ironbark, and rainbow lorikeets amuse me with their antics, hanging upside down in the bottlebrush.

But my greatest delight is seeing tawny frogmouths pretending to be dead branches in the trees beside the shed. Often there is one resting there during the day, and occasionally there are two of them. They sit so still and maintain their ‘I’m a branch’ pose even as the grandchildren discover their presence and spend ages looking at them.

But recently as I photographed one so the children could take the photo for Show and Tell at school, it turned its head and looked at me. For several minutes we observed each other. I was totally amazed to have this experience. Then the bird returned to its usual dead-branch pose and remained there for the remainder of the day. It must have decided it was quite safe to stay there in my tree.

Thank you God for these beautiful creatures.


Old School

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A poem written after a visit the the site of the Glenrae State School, now a ploughed paddock



Old School

The school’s no longer standing

they came and pulled it down

children board the ancient bus

attend the school in town.

District schools now disappearing

that concept out of date –

one teacher in a classroom

year one right through to eight.


The purple jacaranda

gumtree by the gate

and lacy pepperina

suffered that cruel fate.

Knocked down for a corn field,

erasing  every sign

of children in the school yard

and dreams they left behind.

But I can still remember

sounds of children’s laughter

carvings on a wooden desk

light dangled from a rafter.

the age-old game of rounders

playing with our mates

chalk upon the blackboard

and pot hooks on our slates.


I stand here by the old gate

and contemplate the corn

The crop is only transient

by autumn will be gone.

but nothing really changes

and I’m sure the farmer knows

no matter how he ploughs it

what sort of crop he grows


that land is stained forever

by little children’s tears.

Ghosts of bygone school days

echo through the years.

The memories will linger

in the minds of you and me

the good times and the bad times

and the bell that set us free.




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A poem inspired by a recent visit to Goomburra National Park, captured with my camera

Dalrymple Creek in Goomburra National Park



Goomburra dawning awakens my senses,

Nature’s wild spirits take hold of my soul.

Gum trees – tall ladies, models slender and sleek

Spring Carnival fashion so proudly display.

Gum nuts and blossom, branches of grey

in the coolness of dawn seductively sway.

Mists of the morning shroud a crystal-clear creek.

Unseen, a bellbird bids the forest ‘Awake,’

A whipbird arrives with unmistakable crack

joined by the bowerbird and superb fairy wren

to accompany the magpie and currawong’s song:

deep in the leaf litter –he won’t be outdone –

Fleay’s barred frog ock-ocks to the sun.


Goomburra morning weaves its spell;

creates a mind-space I’ll carry away

past gold-laden wattle, green orchids rare,

giant spear lilies, grass trees and oak

over rocky creek crossing, on winding dirt track

back to the city, back to where I belong.


A place to revisit again and again

to recapture this moment of beauty serene.

My heart will rejoice and my spirit find peace

in memories of Goomburra, its daybreak in spring.

Susan Skowronski © 10/9/2013

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