I’ve just returned from a quick trip to Exmouth, 1200 plus kms north of Perth. The town of 2500 people is small with fishing and sea activities being drawcards for the tourists.
The drive in town is always a delight for me. One has to watch for emus. They have right of way. Despite their enormous size, they can be difficult to see until they just about run into the car. This one kept ahead of me and I was happy to loiter behind it.
Town Beach is a lovely place to be. As the name suggests it is in town, just a few hundred metres off the main road. Being a peninsular, the sun sets and rises over water. The beach has a few obligatory white 4WD that are so common across sand in northern coastal towns. The sunset, in a word, spectacular. The muted shades of pink, blue and persimmon muted conversations too. At daybreak, the rising sun performed magic, and something in me shifted. Just a little.
I have never been tempted to pick shells or pebbles off beaches. I always believed they belong there to be enjoyed by others. But on this trip, something clicked in me. I recalled my father singing ‘Catch a Falling Star’, a song made famous by one of his favourite singers, Perry Como. The words …
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day
I realised I desperately wanted to bring home some of the beautiful stones. So like a child in a candy store, I stuffed my pockets. Soon, every time I bent over, I was aware I needed to pull my slacks up. My pockets were weighing heavy. I emptied them on a bigger rock and kept collecting. Then like a bower bird, I made several trips to the car to transport them back to my hotel.
The beach pebbles are in my home now only to remind me, I was glad I caught a falling star.
May you catch your falling star today …
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
A Shared Space 
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