Much like cyberspace, early morning in Big Swamp is noisy. It is filled with tweets and squawks.
During my recent trip I found the air was filled with the high pitched squeaks of honeyeaters, the melodic songs of the Willy Wagtails, and the pained cry of the swamp hens as I approached. The musk duck was being chased by another, the paddle speed of webbed feet on water, fast and furious.
I slowed my pace as I approached the boardwalk. It is the intention, that slowing down of body and mind, that brings me here each time.I know the Welcome Swallows love sitting on the rails, facing the sun. Sometimes they get used to my presence and accommodate my curiosity. I’ve learned to extend the lens only when they look away, as movement is always a signal for flight.To my surprise I found some Swallows on the ground near my feet. Fear set aside, they were busy with nest building, focused on task.A slight movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention, a fairy blue wren darting and hopping among the foliage. No matter how many times I see them, the flash of blue always makes my heart skip a beat. The male wren stood still for a moment. So perfect. It looked like an enamelled ornament, with blues upon blues found in sky and sea.In contrast, the female’s beauty, is subtle. Perhaps this is nature’s intention. While the male distracts she tends to her family, almost invisible, among debris.
Distraction is a powerful tool. These tiny little creatures know this instinctively. They use it for survival.
People in power know this too.
As I read today’s news headlines, I wonder …
Until next time
a dawn bird