A shoebox full of mountweazels
A shoebox full of mountweazels A shoebox full of mountweazels By David Astle Normal text size Summer had its own soundtrack, growing up: a mix of transistor pop and cicada shrills, Nights in White Satin versus the manic greengrocers. The bugs were kiwi fruit-green with blister eyes, rife as blowies during the 70s, the liquidambar in our yard raucous with their song from first light to last. For sport I'd grab a tennis racquet, getting my brother to climb the tree and shake it. Cruel in hindsight, but that's boyhood in a nutshell, the spooked swarm flying downwind into my forehand. We'd pop t...
Source: brisbanetimes.com.au