Month: August 2017

I woke one morning with the thought what if my Creator said to me “I gave you a Garden of Eden and …”.  I realised in that moment, I have been tempted by the serpent of anxiety that keeps me working.

Having resigned from one job, I am enjoying every moment of life.  Autumn is ending.  Spring is here in two weeks.  The air in Narrogin was still chilly enough to enjoy a hot beef roll with gravy and home made soup for dinner, warm socks, pjs, rubbish TV.  A perfect night in.

I spent early mornings and dusk at Foxes Lair.  The wild orchids are prolific at the moment.  They are fragile, exquisite and tiny.  Perfection!  They grow in harsh undergrowth.  Or under the shade of giant gum trees.  Now that I can identify the flowers, my eyes search and find them with ease.

I believe I have not only found my Garden of Eden, but I am living in it.  It was a gift, ignored.  Unseen.  It was always there.  I never saw it before.  Never experienced it before.  Never appreciated it before.

Sharing the space with my Creator, and with you, is the gift I give in return.

May you find your Garden of Eden, too.  It’s worth the search.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

I’ve been criss crossing this big State, what I consider to be, at the best time of the year.

Spring should be here next month.  The countryside in the Midwest is awash with wildflowers.  At Geraldton Airport there is a huge spill of black eyed susans across from the tarmac.  In the Wheatbelt the canola fields are flourishing.  Sadly, the rain has reached some farms and not others.  It is interesting to hear folks speak with some optimism that rain will come.  They say this without rancour despite their neighbour’s farm shining yellow with gold.

I’m learning about the weather from farmers.  The rain can come as predicted, while others wait.  In a farming community where towns are barely 50 kms apart, this must be difficult to experience.  But, community spirit is strong.  As is optimism.

Over the years, my optimism has been nurtured by sunrises and sunsets.  It is when I adjust my compass.  While driving to the Wheatbelt, a hazardous journey, I constantly looked in my rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of sunset.  I usually try and beat the sun by arriving at my destination before it disappears.  Still 20 kms from my destination, this time, I had to stop and take a picture.  Against an open paddock, the sunset was stunning.  And, once again, I found my field of gold.

May you find what you are searching for.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

“Happiness is a direction, not a place.” is one of my favourite quotes by Sydney J Harris.  The quote underscores what I know to be true in my life and never more true than at this time of my life.

I have resigned from one of my contracts.  The feeling of release was instantaneous.  I have loved the work and the team but the job offer came three years too early.  Grasping at a future that would see me comfortable in semi-retirement, tired me emotionally, physically and spiritually.  The decision made, I am where I used to be.  I am, once again, facing in the right direction.

Despite the hectic travel schedule I have learned to enjoy my environment and to see something new each visit.  My camera has given me this gift.

On a recent trip to Exmouth, I decided to walk along the shore at sunrise.  The beach, at first glance, is typical of the coast of northern Western Australia.  Balmy, clean, beautiful.  But, it was the stark simplicity that made me look more closely.  I found coral tassels, pristine seagull feather, perfect excavation by a tiny creature, a lace covered coral nugget, coral eggs and a coral branch, coloured rocks scattered like petals in my path and hearts made of stone, some broken, now softened and mended by the sea.  Dare I say I could not resist bringing some of these treasures home.

I am rugged up in a fierce storm.  Winter is saying goodbye.  There is a clump of snowdrops at my doorstep.  How such delicate flowers withstand the ferocity of high winds is beyond my comprehension.  But, they have survived the last few days.  And, I know, so will I.

As I’ve said before, it is in the midst of winter, we look forward to spring.

May you find your direction today.  As did I.

Until next time,

As always,

a dawn bird