When a day transforms …

Returning home later than I would have liked due to a delayed flight, I was tired when I got to bed.  Unusually tired.  I dared myself to reflect knowing when I am most vulnerable, I am brutally honest with myself.  It’s times like this I question the choices I’ve made in my personal life.  If left unchecked my thoughts take me to places I should not visit.  Having completed one too many trips this year, I had to face the truth.  I’m no spring chicken.  That was harsher reality I would liked to have faced and nothing to do with vanity.  It meant something had to change when I love all aspects of my working life, which, although strenuous, I have adopted the mind set, this is my calling.

I go to places where others don’t or can’t go but in a system of universal health care, I believe that equality is demonstrated in practice.  If people cannot come to me for whatever reason, and I’m able to go to them, I do.  Does it leave me at times, especially at night, exhausted?  For sure.  But when I wake, my spirit is rested, my body uncoils and I spring into action because I believe what I do is honoring the commitment I made years ago.

I’ve just returned from the Midwest.  We were busy with a full schedule.  I like my work there as I team up with someone I enjoy working with.  We often say how lucky we are to be doing the work we do and importantly, enjoy what we do.  Working with someone like this makes the load easier.

Catching the last plane out, I had more time on my hands so I planned to complete the endless pending reports but before I sat down to do this, I decided to go out and take some pictures.  I’m glad I did.
I see symbolism in the trees in Geraldton.  The trees in this region continue to grow despite experiencing a stiff breeze all the time.  And, when growth stops, the trees lean but never break, they are poised in silent dance with a challenging partner.  Aren’t we all?
I watched seagulls for a while and their beautiful glass eyes and their sleek profile and wondered if I am the only person who sees the beauty in them?

The sea shimmered in the afternoon sun at St Georges Beach.  A young woman stepped out of the water, and as her car was parked next to mine, she started to talk to me.  She was from the other side of Australia and mentioned having grown up near a beach, she always seeks the water at least once a day.  She thought I was a tourist and I told her I was working that day but took time off to breathe.  “What’s there to see if you’re not in the water?” she asked me with youthful curiosity.  A water nymph!  A mermaid on land!  She towelled her hair vigorously, her question almost a dare that was softened with laughter.  I see seagulls, shimmering sea and leaning trees, I told her.  My face must have changed expression when I said this.  She looked around her and said, “oh yeah!” slowly like she had just noticed the landscape.  She told me she could see what I could see and that she could see photography was my ‘water’.  She also laughed and said, she would never look at a seagull the same way again after I had highlighted the beauty I see in them!  The encounter was just what I needed.  My prayer each time I set foot outdoors is to show me something beautiful that I can share with others.  Yesterday afternoon, my prayers were answered again.

This morning the home was silent and cool.  I made a list of things to do.  I’m not sure how it’s possible, but the list seemed longer than yesterday.  I went to the kitchen to get  coffee to rev up my day when I saw a gift given to me about two years ago had transformed.The hoya plant is beautiful.  I had one years ago that was a prolific bloomer and given to me as a cutting by an elderly lady who later passed on.  I treasured it but my elderly gardener did not know the sentiment and inadvertently destroyed it.  For some reason I never bought one again to replace it even though I love the blooms.  Then two years ago another lady gave me a cutting quite spontaneously from her garden.  Protected from my gardener, it has been sitting at the kitchen window, a bare stem with two leaves.  The hoya flowers bloom all year and are not seasonal.

This morning, on a cool autumn day, the gift bloomed and brought spring indoors.  I feel youthful, once more.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird