Boot Scraper

I took some pretty pictures today mixed with sombre and sad ones. When I got off the train and watched the carriages disappearing around the bend at the beginning from Bordertown of the next leg of its journey to Melbourne, I felt wistful seeing it go after a week in Adelaide city with all the advantages of a metropolis, and bustle that I felt at peace and at ease with in close proximity (to my greatest surprise).

A favourite discovery of mine in Bordertown when I first came here a few years ago is the old Masonic Hall that features for me the boot scraper at its door. The scraper conjures for me the workmanship of a skilled Mason who went to the trouble to provide an aid that who knows how many and for how many years particularly farming men wiped their muddied boots on, however dressed in their Masonic best.

Passing the Hall this afternoon, I found myself drawn again to the blade of the boot scraper.

Disappointing the uploader is incorrectly loading the photo as portrait and will not allow me to revert the image as I photographed it in landscape.