The Invisible Child

via Daily Prompt: Invisible


DSCN6655.jpgIn a noisy household, I was regarded as “a good child”.  I never got in the way.  I’m not quite sure how I managed that because I was curious about everything.

Being “good” had its downside.  I recall although my family were well known in the community, someone commented they were surprised my parents had three children.  Although it was said in jest, the child in me was wounded.  And, snap! just like that, I became the invisible child.

The urge to write probably took hold in those early years.  My reasoning was simple.  If I could not be seen, I had no voice.  So I decided I would speak with my fingers.  That throwaway remark was the start of an interesting journey.  One I reflect on often.

I have changed over the years.  Found my voice, if you like.  I am no longer ‘a closet scribbler’.

Like a dragonfly, I make myself visible.

And, vulnerable.

Each time I write.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird





For my children

via Daily Prompt: Identical

DSCN0526.jpgMy children have taught me, they may have been raised with identical values, but they are individuals.  Each with their own strengths and struggles.  My role is to be aware of this and be the level playing field for them.  I cannot attribute this thinking to my professional training.  Nor can I give credit to how I was raised by my parents.  I have become this kind of parent because I take time every day to visit that inner space, the sanctuary, where I am me.DSCN2508.jpgI’ve found when dazzled by anything en masseDSCN8164.jpgIt is worth the time to stop and look closer.  DSCN7930.jpgThat scrub with white prongs in the distance, has its own delight.DSCN8239.jpgI found these ‘roses’ …DSCN8231.jpgbloom in the harshest environment.DSCN8320.jpgAlthough I avoid orange drinks, sometimes it is worth to stop and gulp.DSCN8277An enamel orchid will continue to shine, under the overhang.DSC_0904.jpgAt dawn the ‘bin chicken’ is equally beautiful with sea as backdropDSCN9797.jpgas it is stepping out of a pond at sunset.DSC_0662.jpgStone hearts may be invisible in people, until you rub them up the wrong way.  The visible ones, left by Nature, are always beautiful because of their vulnerability.  (I photographed this exactly as I found it).

My mindfulness exercises have helped me parent children into young adults who value their individuality.  My daughter has always been a creative person, with a passion for dance and the arts.  The passion was there in infancy.  She danced with her eyes before she could walk.  She has changed and evolved over the years and in her teens, refused to squeeze into the space I thought was best for her.  She has returned.  She is now happy nesting, in the space she created for herself.  We are both happier after me having learned, sometimes the art she appreciates is on her body, and not hanging in a gallery.  My son claims he has inherited all that is good in both his parents.  (Who could ask for more!).  He has grown into a young man with focus on family and the most vulnerable in the community.  So who cares if the only ponytail at the table, belongs to him.  I now accept a tattoo is considered art.  Questioning authority is healthy.  Discussion is not advice.  And, if advice is sought, my children, the young adults, have the right to choose whether they follow it, or not.  Identical core values may be what we share in common, but what is different, is what makes us family.

What I’ve learned, and continue to learn about parenting comes from Nature.  Once the foundation is laid down and core values practiced, it is easier to see the individual shine in the most unexpected ways.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird





Look away!

via Daily Prompt: Blush

I was a different person in early childhood, yet in many ways, I remain the same.

I listened.  I observed.  I must have done it well.  Friends and family know me for my silence and invisibility.  Not finding a place under their sun of accomplishments, I searched and found my own.  So I share this space with you on what life has taught me.

DSCN2051.jpgDriving through the Midwest, I realised, why settle for a bunch of flowers when I can have a paddock.  DSCN8346.jpgI’m always amazed to find pink in tough, mining towns.  On reflection, given the volatility of the industry and profession, perhaps it is Nature’s way to symbolize hope. DSCN8545.jpgEvery time I return from a trip, a neglected garden reminds me, it will continue to bloom, with or without my presence.  A helpful reminder for ego, so I take notes.thumb_DSCN8950_1024.jpgThere are no words to describe finding one’s first enamel orchid along a bush track but I’ll try.  They look shiny and plastic.  The crick in the neck from the double take was worth it!  They are breathtakingly beautiful.

thumb_DSCN9253_1024Likewise discovering that shaggy bush in Esperance, turns into a gorgeous waterfall acacia came as a surprise like no other one spring.thumb_DSCN8378_1024.jpgIf one summons enough courage to visit Lesueur National Park early mornings, when there is no one else there but Nature, the drawcard is easy to see.

thumb_DSCN9245_1024.jpgI found ‘kebabs’ of flowers there, too, so the gnawing hunger pangs make me return again and again.thumb_DSCN8971_1024.jpgPom poms along bush tracks brings out the inner cheerleader, I never knew resided in me.thumb_DSCN9490_1024.jpgThere’s infinite joy when a small bird allows you to keep it company.thumb_DSCN8906_1024.jpgIn a still moment, unadorned simplicity, is where Nature does it best.thumb_DSCN8959_1024.jpgThere’s a certain beauty to waiting before bloom.  (I wish I knew this in my youth).thumb_DSCN9004_1024.jpgRice crackers are found on the beach, if you look for them hungrily.thumb_DSCN9016_1024.jpgThe sand dunes are not an obstruction between me and the ocean.thumb_DSCN9022_1024They are made from tiny shells and quartz.  Each piece infinitesimal and exquisite.thumb_DSCN8641_1024.jpgA pesky weed is beautiful too.

These are things I didn’t know then, but do now.  The thought makes me blush with shame.

So look past my ignorance.

I’ll be back once I’ve found focus and share life, as I know it, through my lens again.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird













I want it now!

via Daily Prompt: Patience

They say patience is a virtue.  In my youth I rebelled against this concept.  I wanted it (whatever ‘it’ was), and I wanted it now!  I stood at various platforms waiting for the train that never arrived.  Yes, in my haste to find it, I missed the journey.  (Sounds cliched, and it is intentionally so, because that’s how pedestrian life can be, unless you start to view it differently).

Surviving a major accident in my twenties, I scrambled through therapy to become functional again.  Yes, I had to get back to the platform, for that train, thinking it would get me Somewhere.

I am There. That place I yearned for in my youth and find, I often flip back the pages tracking back to Somewhere.

I now know.  Somewhere was always Here.

I’m not sure how I got Here.  Here, was where I always should have been.  How did I get here.  Well, let me track the journey.

I woke one day to find …

DSCN5416.jpgA snail will climb steadily until it reaches the tree top.  It’s all about pace!DSCN5432.jpgAny cut, words or blade, can leave ragged edges.DSCN5589.jpgI’ve found youth (mine!) and wisdom (my children’s!) can co-exist on the same branch of a tree!DSCN5445.jpgSometimes, you just have to stand still and allow the storm to pass, and it will, if your roots are strong.DSCN8141.jpgI’ve learned the solitary fisherman on the rocks who wets the line at dawn, has done this many times before.  He does it for the pleasure, not because he expects a bite.DSCN8199.jpgLikewise the surfer, as he strides out board under arm, to the open sea.DSCN9771.jpgThere he’ll sit, with like minded folk, waiting for that set to arrive.DSCN9784.jpgAnd when it does, he’ll take me with him on that magic carpet ride.  DSCN8190.jpgI found some mornings when the sea is muted, wild dolphins will weave their way through the calm and leave my knees weak with sheer delight of it all.DSCN5759.jpgI’ve found in small mining towns, when there’s not a soul to be seen at midday, even a kangaroo can stop by and crack open a can, to chill with you.DSCN8235.jpgAnd, if you don’t drink.  You can still see double.DSCN9721.jpgIn winter, when all else has faded away, a fig is vivid with colour.DSCN9158.jpgA beach is a beach.  It does not need a me and a you, to tell a story of romance.DSCN5993.jpgI don’t need to travel to Mallee country.  There are times when the ringneck will visit me to check out how I live.DSCN9591.jpgNo longer a lead foot.  I slow down and enjoy the curves that life throws up at me now and then.  I’ve learned those are moments, to see past the obstruction and see the forest, as it is meant to be.DSCN6047.jpgYes, I found patience.  It was always at my feet, in the Here and Now.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird










No doubt like millions of others, I wake to news headlines every day.  They ignite feelings of outrage, empathy and dare I say, a sense of helplessness, or we rise to our feet in applause for those who demand change.  So instead of reading headlines this morning, (the news of yesterday being deflating), I decided to start my day differently.

Reaching for something warm this morning to take some chill away, I lay in bed thinking of what I would cook for breakfast for my son who will be visiting me.  The thought was warmer than any blanket within reach.

My son once commented, he likes that I find time to relax when I travel.  He’s always concerned about my workload.  When he reads this post he’ll know, when I’m out working regionally, the headliners I ‘read’, invigorate me.

DSCN8221.JPGWith thousands of photographs to catalogue, I don’t know the names of the wildflowers I photograph.  Do I really need to?  They say what they need to say.DSCN8581.jpgI’ve found a pink banksia cone in a national park in Jurien Bay.  They usually range in shades of gold and orange, so a pink one, is sheer delight.DSCN8460.jpgI’m not sure of this plant either that sprouted long prongs of flowers, but I feel I’ve looked right into the heart and found nothing but smaller things that made it bigger.DSCN9761.jpgAnd, the wild spider orchid, Mardi Gras flamboyant in bloom, always finds a place to perform, in a dense forest.DSCN8896.JPGMuch like the kangaroo paw, still, poised in mid-bloom.DSCN8566.jpgThen there are purple flowers, with trails of happy tears, after the rain.DSCN8840.JPGThere are others, who make me peer even closer to look at the tinier bloom, within bloom.DSCN9429.JPGThere are plain, pristine pure white blooms, like angels that brighten gloom.DSCN9029.JPGPom poms with individual exquisite flowers, the detail within them, beyond description.DSCN8908.JPGAnd trigger plants that swing in the breeze, like joyful children, in a playground.

So this morning, I thought I’d share my headliners with you as you start (or end your day) to remind you, there is much beauty in the world, even when some days, it does not seem that way.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird



The Dream Maker

via Daily Prompt: Incubate

I was raised in a home that was filled with books and discussion.  I’ve carried the tradition into my home with my children.

It was my father who nurtured me emotionally and intellectually by choice and circumstance.  I adored him.  He became an invalid at 39 after he suffered a major heart attack and became a stay-at-home dad, so he was more accessible while my mother went out to work.  I loved his reserve.  His wisdom still guides me each day.

DSCN6034.jpgLike a bird that sits quietly while her eggs incubate beneath her, my father would listen to my endless questions, pause thoughtfully and ask, “what do you think?”  I always had an answer or five and when I didn’t, I’d scurry to find a book with the answer and return back to him, brimming with information.

He didn’t know then, and I wish I could tell him now, he was my Dream Maker.  In those pauses, my dreams found a place to incubate.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird


Mother and me

via Daily Prompt: Wrinkle

Having flown two awful flights, one where there was problems with an engine mid flight, I was somewhat apprehensive catching another flight to this region.

Being a small twin engine turbo, the pilot and co-pilot greet passengers as they board and disembark, a personal signature touch of the airline.  This time the pilot looked like she had just graduated from high school.  Her youth heightened my anxiety.

It was late afternoon when we landed after a surprisingly pleasant flight.  I shared this with the pilot and thanked her.  When she grinned, she looked even younger.

The sun was low in the sky.  The drive into town is around 23 kms.  I drove steadily and then stopped for a few minutes at a reserve before it was too dark.  I needed quiet, even if it was for a minute or two.  The birds had long been silenced by sunset.  I sat  taking it all in when an imperceptible movement caught my eye.DSCN9437.jpgI did a double take and zoomed in.  I wasn’t alone!  My heart pounded in excitement.DSCN9438.jpgI zoomed in as slowly as I could.DSCN9440.jpgAnd, closer, again.DSCN9442.jpgAnd again.

She stood silently, all doe-eyed and twitching velvet ears.

I was thrilled to see her.  The reserve was damaged by a bush fire a few years ago and although the flora and birds have returned, I hadn’t seen any kangaroos.  I made a mental note.  One more thing to watch out for.DSCN9443.jpgThe next morning, I headed out to the reserve again.  The air was alive with tweets and flapping wings of the larger birds over the lake.

I inched my car slowly, silently winching at the crunch of wheels on gravel that sounded deafening when I wanted quiet.

Either she didn’t hear me (I doubt that!) but she did not disappear from sight.  She stayed and nursed joey, before they bounded into the scrub.

I headed to work, carrying the memory, in the wrinkle at the corner of my eyes.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird