A Fortunate Life


It is said, sailors regard the Welcome Swallow as a sign that land is nearby.  In other mythology, they are regarded as a symbol of plenty, of new life, signalling the drab of winter is over.  Spring is nigh.

I delight in these birds.  I usually see them near the waterfront in Bunbury, swooping low while they chase each other.  They are incredibly difficult to photograph at this time. They are so playful, rarely stopping.  I have dozens of blurred pictures of them!

Deep in reflection about various professional choices on offer, I headed to Big Swamp early one morning in Bunbury.  I needed comfort.  I needed the embrace of Mother Nature.  I was too early.  The birds had not yet awakened.

Then, in the silence of dawn I saw it.  Silent and still.  Facing the sun.  Basking in warmth.  Feet firmly planted on a steady surface.  Like me.

In a split second I knew what my choices for the next few years were going to be.

I believe I’ve had a fortunate life.  I’ve worked hard for all I have.  I have never been discontented, wanting more.  But, I have been given more.  As a gift.  The gift of courage.  It has allowed me to educate myself to a level I never thought possible.  It has allowed me to raise my children to love both parents.  Equally.  It has allowed me to walk away from plenty because I know I can live on less.  It has given me the wisdom to see I am good at some things but not others.  It has allowed me to love, to lose, and, remain whole.

So, silent and still.  Facing the sun.  Basking in warmth.  Feet firmly planted on steady ground.  I am set to fly.

May the universe give you wings too.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird


About a week ago it was winter again in Esperance, Western Australia.  Storm clouds hung low and had everyone frustrated, Spring was short, much like youth.

A week later, Mother Nature has accelerated into summer. The jolt between seasons creates havoc and mayhem at night and leaves the sky bruised the next morning. The transition between black, indigo, purple, pink to shimmering pewter and gold is fleeting.  Like a heart that forgives quickly, so does the sky.

Forgiveness has its own language, its own vocabulary, its own perspective, its own meaning … to those who choose it.

I have often wondered why I find myself in situations where I am vulnerable and consequently, need to forgive people.  Why are some lessons harder to learn than others?  Is there a power higher than myself that feels I need more practice at forgiveness?  On reflection, I’ve come to my own conclusion.

Forgiveness is not an outcome. It is a place of renewal, a sanctuary, a place where you go to remember the good and the not-so-good. It is an opportunity to become new and whole again. It is a place where, once you ride out the pain, you can smile at yourself again.

Forgiveness is a gift of peace, to self.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird


The Super Moon, Western Australia

I was thrilled when I realised I would be in the Wheatbelt in Western Australia during the Super Moon.  The sky is big and often clear around this region.  Driving towards my destination, at dusk, I pulled over in a picnic area to take a picture of the moon over a paddock, only to find an elderly couple in a caravan were there first.  They were camped sipping tea, camera on tripod, waiting to be enchanted.

At night, I drove around looking for the best place to photograph the moon.  A risky thing to do as there is no street lighting on country roads.  Just the flash of eyes from kangaroo or fox or the blinding lights of a road train.

In a clear sky, the moon was a moon.  I hadn’t factored in the beautiful moon needed more.  It needed something else to add perspective.  My attempts were futile.  Now past ten pm, it was time to go back to my hotel.

I woke before dawn the next day and went looking again. This time there were some clouds floating by.  The moon was lower on the Western horizon, big and luminous.  It was the delight I was searching for the previous night.

The moon is often associated with fertility, life.  And her ocean lullaby of gently rocking tides from shore to shore, makes her Mother of all life on Earth.

Undaunted by a fierce sun, she is ever present in the sky.  She is a celestial watchful eye.

The moon is a reassurance, a silent promise, there will be another day.

I believe this.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird







Friendship does not covert by stealth

does not exclude purposefully

is reciprocity.

Friendship does not seek to hurt and harm, intentionally.

Friendship is childlike,

a celebration of life.

In a moment of alone

Friendship is a gift,

offered spontaneously, generously

between a ‘you’ and a ‘me’.

May you find friendship, when you least expect it today.

As always

a dawn bird

Reflected in a dragonfly’s eye – mountains – Kobayashi Issa


Dragonflies are small. Dragonflies are strong. They can fly across oceans with wings of lace. Dragonflies are beautiful, even more so, after they morph into who they are meant to be.

Dragonflies represent life, prosperity, renewal, birth. They represent light. They represent strength. In the Japanese culture, they represent joy.

At the cusp of change and transformation with new experiences ahead of me, they represent joy for me too.

“I am with you”, “All is well”, “Be still and know I am God” are my favourite prayers.  I have relied heavily on these for years, but even more, this year.

The waiting is over.

With frayed wings, I have flown over an ocean.  Once again.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

dawn, every day

When travelling, the last thing I do at night before sleep is to check the time for sunrise, then set my alarm five minutes earlier.

At Esperance Bay, like me, the seagulls and Pacific Gulls also sit and wait for dawn.  I am never disappointed.

As we head into summer the sun rises to the right of Frenchman’s Peak, some 40+ kms away across the water.  It always makes a stunning appearance.  It is a quiet time of day for me.  I like being alone at this hour.  I usually have company though.  Fishermen, joggers, people with dogs, lycra clad cyclists bent low over their prized bikes.  Each of us curious why the other is up so early.  Too precious to break the silence, “Good morning” is a subdued greeting.

I feel invincible at dawn.  I plan my day.  I plan my life.  I plan.  I plan.  I plan.  Then, I prioritise. Having a list of ‘Most Important Tasks’ is something I do first thing in the morning.  It is a chance to group my tasks and assign meaning to them.

I have been practising this strategy in my personal life as well.  A new dawn, is a new day, every day, in more ways than one.  Each day filled with possibilities.  Until recently my vision lacked clarity.  I can see now, this is the road I was meant to travel.

Having decided on what I want to do with the remaining work years and how to do it, opportunities seemingly flow towards me.  I have met like minded folks through the most extraordinary set of circumstances.  Some would claim this is the law of attraction.  I’m not sure how that concept works.  But, it seems to have worked for me.

I’m sure Esperance Bay was beautiful at dawn this morning.  I’m some 700+ kms north of it and, yet, it is just as beautiful here.  I woke to a bruised sky of purple, orange and pink.  The rainbow lorikeets are screeching in delight, the kookaburras have laughter gurgling in their throat, I can hear the whoosh of flapping wings of the big water birds as they head to the lake.  They are starting a new day.

So am I.

Until next time,

As always,

a dawn bird

Almost summer …

In Australia we are officially one month away from summer.  There is confirmation of this in the garden.  The rainbow lorikeets have returned to nibble at the new leaves atop the trees.  I hear them at dusk.  They are noisy.  Having the garden to themselves, most of the time, they screech and look at me in the eye with curiosity.  I suspect these are young birds.  Their feathers shine and they look almost like ceramic ornaments in the tree.  The feathers are perfection.

At the front the passionfruit vine across the garage wall has spread, like loving arms wide open.  It is laden with buds.  Only two flowers have bloomed.  I’m learning about helping the pollination process that encourages flowers to fruit.  I feel there is something invasive about helping Mother Nature like this.  But, if I want fruit, the flowers need my help.  Where have all the bees gone?

Like a change in season, my life is in transition.  There are others who are giving me a helping hand.  They are reaching out to help me contribute the best way I can to the community.  This is team spirit in a larger sense.  After a phone interview last evening, I am being interviewed in person today for a much desired opportunity.  To find the team wants someone with my professional background, is a win win situation.

The advice I give my children when they have gone for an interview is consistent.  They may be good for the job, but it is critical the job has to be good for them.

The same applies to life.  To people.  To relationships.

Until next time,

As always,

a dawn bird