In my twenties I saved madly and went overseas twice a year. I had few commitments and my budget allowed for this. I would scan travel brochures, picking out which countries I would visit first. I travelled most of the places on my list but I have only just started to explore the world we live in.
Early morning in Exmouth I stopped the car kerbside. To my left was an emu, visible intermittently while she pecked at the scrub, and frustratingly, just out of camera sight. To my right was the small local cemetery within earshot of the sea. In this town, a cemetery lives up to what it is perceived to be by those who still breathe. Finality. It was still and lonely.
There would have been a time in my life when I have would turned tail and run, confronted. Not this morning. I felt I had the best company. The yellow throated miner bird sat still and silent. Reflective, like me.
My galleries and museums are now different. I look. Touch. Feel. Sniff. And taste the salt on my lips, and occasionally, cheeks. Yes, the galleries and museums are more interactive. I immerse myself. I don’t want to miss a moment of the experience.
These were embedded in rock. Immovable despite the power of the sea.
The tell tale signs of seagull that raided the turtle’s nest along the shore. What is food to one, is death to another. The cycle of life.
This Easter was a extra special one for me. With their partners away, it was just the three of us, my children and me. (And two eager dogs who wanted to sniff everything within range!). We chose to sit in the formal dining room. Their father and I bought the dining suite early in our marriage. I’m loathe to discard it. The timber glows. The shine, is memories.
I listened to my children talk. They share their lives with each other so easily. They have conversations. I have not heard them fight or disagree since their early childhood. My son has a dry wit. We are careful not to eat or drink when he’s telling a story, fearful someone will choke. My daughter’s laughter is like a peal of bells. She is his ideal audience.
When I travel I explore the world around me. When I’m home, I explore family relationships with the same searching eye. What I find is just as pleasing to the senses as a walk along the seashore. At home the tangibility of the glue that keeps the family together, cannot be photographed. But I know it will be shared in narratives of, this is how we lived.
Until next time
a dawn bird
2 thoughts on “Better late, than never”
Balance, love and peace, with a dollop of beauty. What more is there?
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That’s the recipe! Simple and easy to achieve, if one works towards it.
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