By Chris Hansen.
In the morning, often of a weekend, the sounds of mowers could be heard as far as you might wish to travel through the suburbs. My father’s mower was a Victa. Tried trusty and true it kept pace for twenty-five years. The sound of the mower would soften once the grass had begun to be cut. And soon enough as each blade would signal its distress via scent, all the scents would combine to create an aroma, the crisp smell of freshly mown grass. The smell may linger for a short while, advantage being taken on a summer’s day with all the windows open allowing the scent inside the home. The fragrance may also linger for a short while on your clothes and your shoes may have a smell for far longer.
About the author:
Chris has a love of language and writing – scriptwriting in particular and enjoys being involved with Geelong’s internationally renowned Back-to-Back Theatre, working alongside Bruce Gladwin. His interest and involvement in writing began at a young age, with his story the Cars that ate Norlane being published in the Geelong Advertiser’s Poppykettle Press.
Chris has a range of interests, including photography, as well as a passion for supporting others with disabilities to be considered on their merits.
‘I’ve been playing guitar for 35 years and enjoy improvisational music collaboration and producing art pieces. I fight against having my disability overlooked and not taken into account, and I advocate for others in similar situations.’