Esperance Bay, Esperance, Western Australia
It’s all about pace
each step forward
same as the one before
gets one there
as intended.
a dawn bird
In response to Pic and a Word Challenge – Running – #226
Month: March 2020
Who’s space is this?
She is no bigger than three inches tall and I fell in love with the figurine as soon as I saw it. She reminded me of my daughter when she was a toddler, always curious, always full of wonder, complete with Pebbles hairstyle. I just had to buy it. I found it the other day while decluttering. I dusted it, reaching tiny spaces with a cotton bud, looked at it and wondered, can I reframe my thoughts of feeling trapped into a feeling of curiosity?
It did start that way but five days in, the idea started to get old, even though I am in my own space. Trapped because I am only eight days into my self imposed isolation. I wanted to experience what 14 days of isolation would feel like so I could understand how others feel. It’s not a nice feeling but reframing constantly, this is an exercise of safety for self and others, brings some comfort and enhances resilience.
In the mornings I feel like I am an animal in the zoo. The lorikeets watch me through the windows. The Willy Wagtail goes through a couple of hours of agitation, chit chitting along the windows, and patio, peering at me and buzzing the glass. I suspect a nest is being built in the mulberry tree. I experienced the same territorial behaviour two years ago when the bird constantly buzzed me when I went out with laundry. How tiny they are but at the moment, they are freer than me. I feel a shift in power and tip toe around my home, making my movements small and slow in submission.
Space is meaningful to me in so many ways. The space in one’s ‘head’ is specially interesting to me. Sometimes we create our own zoo of thoughts. We trap them. We examine them like they were exotic. Sometimes we yearn to domesticate them. Or like the Willy Wagtail, we become territorial about them. Some we set free and watch them soar, a feeling of relief, a feeling of letting go, like they were ours to set free. They never were. They set us free.
I’ve had an idea in my head and would love someone to paint or draw it for me, preferably with charcoal on white paper. The concept is a simple one. An open field. A some visible fence posts. A single, delicate, barbed wire hanging between the posts. The art would be called Freedom. When I think of this concept, I’ve often wondered, which side of the barbed wire do you have to be to experience freedom?
These days, I too am standing on my toes, filled with curiosity thinking about this.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Zoo
Welcome home …
The colour of yellow is sometimes used to welcome loved ones home. The colour has given me a new way of looking at current circumstances.
As a frequent traveller in this large State that covers a third of the continent, the whole of Western Australia has been my home for some years now. Although my work continues with technology, I’m feeling the sudden cessation of being isolated from nature as I knew it.
Pacific gull, Esperance, Western Australia
In Esperance, south east of Perth, I would spend my three mornings a month at the Bay with birds, dolphins and seals.
Miner, Kununurra, Western Australia
In the far north, East Kimberley region, I was alone in Hidden Valley (Mirima National Park), just outside Kununurra one afternoon, enjoying a quiet moment in the car when this miner bird buzzed my car so aggressively I had to move. It taught me to respect territory and space.
In the eastern Wheatbelt town of Merredin, my mornings were among the tall gum trees at a reserve where red tailed cockatoos were raucous enough to silence the usually vocal wattle bird. The lesson here, perhaps, there are times for some to speak and others to listen.
From my Midwest hotel window I enjoyed my coffee with a white plumed honey eater with a delightful yolk yellow head. I think this one was still a young one as it waited patiently for a feed to be brought to it. Patience is key!
What I miss the most is the soft butter yellow spinifex of the Pilbara outback, where in the harshest environment, my heart is receptive and vulnerable. That hasn’t changed. I found I can also experience this in a city, encased in bricks and glass.
Waking to the scent of frangipani outdoors on always warm mornings in the mining towns of the Pilbara, will be a memory. The scent may fade, not the memory.
One of the most rewarding aspects of my work is being with children. This was outside a child care centre in the South West. A Dummy Fairy Tree. Children can always make us smile. It is their gift.
Although I’m not a cat person, I found this street art striking. Not far from my neighbourhood, in the days leading to self-isolation a reminder, for a wanderer like me, the yellow brick does lead to home.
Meal with loved ones, March 2020
Little did I know at my last meal with loved ones, what brought us together would lead to a new tyranny of distance, be it less than six feet or thousands of kms.
I am home. And my wish for those who read this post, is the same. May you feel you are home where ever you may be. The world will still be there. When we emerge we will see and experience it again. We will gain new perspectives. That’s a place to hope for, and anticipate.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Friendly Friday Photo Challenge – Yellow
Where the heart is …
I moved into my home about six or seven years ago and have not yet unpacked most of my belongings.
I refuse to give into the blah of changed circumstances and decided this morning to order a bigger skip for next week and start culling. There are suitcases and boxes in the garage to be unpacked, sorted and thrown away. Magazines, recipes books and hundreds of children’s story books have to be sorted. I still have the Tonka Truck I gave my son for his first birthday and can’t bear to part with it 27 years later. Children’s puzzles, old video games, DVD players. Oh! the accumulation of trivia and technology. All will go. Except the Tonka Truck.
I sat on the sofa today and looked around my home. There is so much stuff that can be discarded and I would not miss it.
Willy Wagtail, Bunbury wetlands, Western Australia
I’m hoping during this self-imposed isolation I will catch up on reports and get my home into shape. These are my priorities.
When I moved into this house I promised myself there would be no ‘junk room’. Each room would have a purpose. My home would be a home where I nest. Birds do this well. I plan to do the same.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Saturday – Habitat
Laying it bare – Judy’s Nosy Questions #2
Judy Dykstra Brown over in Lifelessons wants to know more in the second round of Nosy Questions! Join in the fun, if you dare!
- Tell us how you met your partner. Please be specific in telling your tale.
We worked at a hospital and knew each other in passing only. One day after work we found ourselves at a pedestrian crossing not far from where we worked. He said something and as I had relocated from Canada to Australia, I recognised the Canadian accent. He was pleased as punch that I did. We walked and talked for a while, mostly about Canada, until I was home (a high rise apartment in the CBD). He grinned and asked if he could come up to see my etchings. A few weeks later, I let him. A long courtship, living together, marriage, two kids and divorce followed. We are still on good terms. - What is your most romantic experience, again with details?
At Dr T’s (see above) insistence we were having a break and, broken-hearted, I decided to travel to Europe when I met him. He was from Scotland. He always seemed to find me in a crowd. He had the most beautiful Scottish accent and could recite the poetry of Robert Burns and Robert Frost, just like that. He also wrote poetry. I was smitten. As my time in Europe was coming to an end we spent a memorable night in Beaune, France.I’m not sure how we continued a long distance relationship in those days, the days before email and FaceTime or Skype, but we did for two years. He sent me cassettes of him reciting poetry, songs that made him think of me and monologues to me in that wonderful Scottish voice.
He and Dr T were aware of each other’s presence in my life. I was struggling to make a decision when he sent me a cassette of the song by Matt Munro ‘Walk Away’, the lyrics:
Walk away, please go
Before you throw your life away
A life that I could share for just a day
We should have met some years ago
For your sake I say
Walk away, just go.
Walk away, and live
A life that’s full
With no regret
Don’t look back at me
Just try to forget
Why build a dream that cannot come true
So be strong, reach the stars now
Walk away, walk on.
If I heard your voice
I’d beg you to stay
So don’t say a word
Just run, run away.…The song haunts me to this day.
- What is the most extravagant purchase you’ve ever made, and why did you buy it?
Oh my goodness! For someone who hates shopping I splurge on a regular basis! My most recent splurge was a sterling silver cuff by John Miller Designs, a silversmith in the South West. Beautifully handcrafted in his studio, I want everything he has ever made! I bought this one to remind me of the wonderful time I had in Exmouth. I bought a ring to go with it too.
- What is your favorite swear word or expression, and when are you most likely to use it?
I’ve lived in Australia for decades so expletives Bastard! F*ckwit! and the like, is my primary language, especially when I’m driving in the city.
I still remember how to say Motherf*cker in Hindi. I slip into bilingual swearing for special F*ckwits.
I’m particularly fond of the phrase, who gives a flying f*ck and for no particular reason other than the mental imagery! - What is your favorite kind of pie? With or without ice cream?
Offer me cherry pie with vanilla ice cream and I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. (Rare to find cherry pie in Western Australia). - While we’re on the subject, what is your favorite ice cream, and where did you last eat it?
I rarely buy ice cream because I prefer the ice cream I make and no, I don’t have an ice cream maker. This is a family favourite, dried apricot and cointreau. Rich and luscious, because it is calorie laden it is best enjoyed once a year, at Christmas. - Who is your most unique friend and why? (May be someone from the past.)
He was 30 years older than me and I loved him dearly. He had never married and was an author, human rights activist and mental health activist. I met him only once but we had a long friendship before he passed on a few years ago. He was my rock and touchstone during difficult times. I’ve written about him in a previous post. - What is your most irritating habit?
Dr T and our children would agree … when I have people over for a meal, I cook a buffet and everyone complains about having to wait while I cook one more dish. - Who was your favorite teacher and why?
Miss Eva was my teacher in the final year of high school. She believed I could make a difference. I, in turn, believed her. - Do you like being alone and if so, what would you probably be doing?
Love, love, love being alone. You’ll find me beach combing. Or if home, enjoying my first cuppa in the shadows of pre-dawn. - What is the most outlandish thing you’ve ever done?
I was scared of heights and a friend coaxed me to go abseiling (rapelling). I abseiled off a 75 metre (about 240 foot) cliff. I loved it so much I did it three times. I’m no longer scared of heights. I find the descent exhilarating. - What superstition do you always follow?
I never walk under ladders. Ever. - What famous person or animal have you met? Tell us about the meeting.
I was so mesmerised by his outrageously flamboyant shoes that I literally bumped into Bob Geldof on a street in London.
Well, I’m done unwrapping.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Judy’s Nosy Questions #2
Seeking joy from within
I’ve decided to take this time to experience self-imposed isolation for two weeks as not only there are health reasons to do this, but also psychological ones. The sheer enormity of what the world is experiencing makes me seek small things and smaller spaces.
I have some work related phone contact with people and video contact with someone else on most days. This I cannot avoid. Son works therapeutically with recently discharged stroke patients and wants to stay away to keep me safe as he has frequent hospital contact. Daughter works as a teacher and schools are still officially open, although a lot of parents are opting to keep their children at home. She lives about an hour south of my home and I don’t get to see her as often under normal circumstances. I live in a small cul de sac and neighbours have exchanged phone numbers and check on each other. I am connected yet alone.
The world has become a small place. I thought it was timely for me to seek … and share the joy I find within my home. 
I always envisaged working in an office in the city, with my work extending to include the port city of Fremantle, but some of my narrative was written by others. Soon I was working state wide in this magnificent and enormous state of Western Australia, which covers a third of the continent. It took me to places I would never have gone. Each beach, each bay, each coast curve has been different. I started a collection of pebbles, coral and shells a few years ago. I treasure these, never more than now.
Then there are the collections of rocks, and other sea artefacts. I started a small jar of tiny shells that I often find on the beaches of Jurien Bay and Exmouth mostly. In the vintage cast iron piece of kitchenalia is the red rock I found in the gold mining areas in the Midwest outback that has gold flecks in it. I remember the moment when I picked this up and felt a deep connection to the land I was standing on. It seemed to speak to me of all the drama and chaos and excitement that gold rush brings and how different it is today with the orderly FIFO (fly in fly out) mine workers catching flights like they are catching a bus.
I love the tactile nature of emu eggs. They are smooth and heavy. These were the last of the eggs that were being sold when an Emu Farm closed. I would stop here, to buy a bottle or two of the locally made chilli tomato sauce, just before getting to Bunbury in the South West. I have such fond memories of chatting to the elderly women who worked at the counter.
I’m also looking after myself, as self-care is vital in these times. I had placed a big order of food from a home delivery service just before the crisis. Timely. They always have the best tasting fresh fruit. I never buy strawberries in the supermarket but I enjoy these when delivered.
I wake some mornings feeling despondent about everything and everyone. Some days crawling out of that space is harder than others when the grip of helplessness gets tighter. On those days I slow down and indulge in a bit of personal self-care. This is a facial mask I used as a teen in India. Made from chickpea flour, pure honey, a pinch of tumeric, a splash of lemon juice and enough water to make a consistency of pancake mix. I also add a few drops of Vitamin B oil. Smear over face, let it dry and rinse off. (Remind yourself not to open the front door!). The turmeric stains clothing but doesn’t seem to stain crockery or bathrooms sinks. The mask leaves the skin very soft. This paste, or versions of it, is also used in many Indian bridal ceremonies, a preparatory, or cleansing ritual before the wedding night. I feel the need to do this more often than I ever have in the past. It leaves me with a feeling of positive anticipation.
Last but not least! I’ve always disliked garden gnomes. It was a running joke between Dr T and myself and he would ‘threaten’ to buy some for our garden and I would recoil in horror.
A few weeks before the world changed I walked into a new shop in my neighbourhood. The owner sells beautiful hand embroidered white cotton lingerie. I love those! These two caught my eye. I walked out of the shop thinking about them and couldn’t help smiling for so many reasons. The next time I walked in they were nowhere to be seen. I found myself being surprised when I asked the owner if she had sold them. No, they were seated in a different section of the shop. They came home with me.
As I write alone at home they bring me such joy and companionship. Oh! the irony of this! Dr T when you read this post, I don’t want to hear about it!
Like millions I’m home and as vulnerable physically, emotionally, psychologically, and financially, just as the next person. Although I already do this, I find myself reaching into my survival tool box to create my own world, create my own joy and do this mindfully. There is something in this concept that I hope will stay with folks long after the crisis has passed. There is a certain joy in seeking this from within, be it home or self. When you do, you’ll find it is endless and you can always tap into it.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Cee’s On the Hunt for Joy Challenge – Week # 12 – Create Abundance Out of Ordinary Things
Changing in a changing world …
Paraburdoo, Pilbara mining region, Western Australia
It’s just gone 6 am and I’ve been up for a couple of hours. Outside, the kookaburras’ distinctive laughter is somewhat subdued but just loud enough to keep me company while I enjoyed my coffee. From my study window I can see, to my left, the sky is the colour of a day old bruise, sepia brown and purple. The softest morning light is infusing my home slowly. As I write I can hear different bird calls. The lorikeets, the Willy Wagtail, the brown honey eater, waking and finding their space in the back garden.
Nature being the only stable thing for me right now, I gravitate towards it, seeking and experiencing every moment. With no distant hum of freeway traffic, it feels like I’m in my own world. A sense of isolation, when the world is in this crisis together, is a strange place to be. Solitude is something I seek each day but isolation, imposed, is a new experience. An experience that made others stronger and more resilient, is a reminder to self each day.
I’m trying to stay as close to normal as I can, which is odd for me to say this because life is not, and will not be normal for me. I am grounded indefinitely. So I’ve taken the view of finding joy in my own space, discovering each room, each space in the garden, with new eyes and seeing potential that I never had time for before. It’s time to nest. To regroup. To cull. To hold those I love, a little closer. There is emotional luxury in this.
One of the normal things for me to do will be to write each day, discover new blogs and new words. Connect with others on a wider scale. I was thrilled to find a new word prompt I can contribute to. Thanks Tracy!
So on to the prompt …
I’m not sure whether this is a crow or raven but I’m leaning towards a raven. From childhood I have associated this bird with bad luck or death. Maybe because of a rhyme we sang as children:
One for sorrow
two for joy
three for a letter
four for a boy
five for silver
six for gold
seven for a secret,
never to be told
But I now know for some, the symbolism of ravens is associated with good luck representing ‘magic’ or transformation even. For me the concept of ‘magic’ as something that emerges from ‘out of the box’ of impossibility. Something that surprises, makes one gasp. I like this! I like the idea of emerging. Of emerging full of hope, full of energy. Of breaking out from the now, the present as we know it, soft as new, yet strong enough to survive, with a rebel yell of a newborn. This need not be the outcome of surviving a crisis (any crisis). It can be the beginning of each day as we journey through it.
This is what I wish for you.
Stay safe and healthy. We are in it together.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Corvid-2020 Weekly Challenge #1
Pic and a Word Challenge #225 – Glimmer
Over Shark Bay, Western Australia
The sea is a sea
nothing more, nothing less
but a glimmer of shore, beyond
a dawn bird
In response to Pic and a Word Challenge #225
Reverie
Sunset, The Fascine, Carnarvon, Western Australia
Floating between sky and sea
on undulating waves,
this, my reverie
a dawn bird
On facing crisis – a reflection
It is ironic, my last trip (most likely) for the year was to Geraldton where on the outskirts, in the hamlet of Greenough, is the graceful and iconic Leaning Tree. I never fail to stop and take a picture of the tree each time I drive past. It is also ironic that I found a picture that was taken on a gloomy day. It should have dampened my spirit, when the world has changed so drastically. Behind each statistic is a person, a family, a community and the reach of this health and economic crisis, is sobering.
The Leaning Tree, Greenough, Western Australia
Like those who work with people face to face, be it in hospitality or hospital etc, our work lives have changed, at least for the foreseeable future. The news from one agency, midway through my trip, was to cease operations as we know it. On the last day of my work in a new agency, we were advised there would be no work until further notice.
After the initial shock of severe financial restrictions, I did what is promoted as a step to maintaining good well being. In times of crisis return to normalcy as soon as one can. I sat in the quiet of my hotel room and made a list of priorities. I usually make a list at night of tasks that I need to tackle the following day but this list was different. I found I needed to take charge.
The first thing I did was to email the bank and accountant to advise them I would not have my usual income this year. The bank representative did her homework before returning my call. She reassured me all was well on that front and they made some allowances that will be helpful should I need it. It was the biggest relief and allowed me to think more clearly about other matters.
I returned to Perth to empty shops. The mad panic seems to have subsided or perhaps people are staying home, which is a good thing. It felt like I was over-shopping and I had to remind myself I usually shop for a day but now I was shopping for a fortnight.
Like the Leaning Tree growth continues when one is bent, but not broken. I’ve found some positives in going back to basics. It’s all about perspective. 
Hotel room art, Geraldton, Western Australia
Being grounded in reality is one thing, but we can paint and re-paint the picture in broader and brighter strokes. Adults can come up with something more abstract and even when broken and distorted, the picture emerges and one finds meaning in it.
The Rainbow Tree, children’s artwork, school in the Midwest, Western Australia
Children, on the other hand, take from what is familiar and make it their own. I experienced a deep sense of joy when I stood in front of this artwork. All those discarded buttons from old clothing, the vision of a rainbow instead of a bent, old tree. The earth coming up to greet it. To me this is a portrait of a celebration. Oh! the eyes and heart of a child!
So I share three pictures with you today of gloomy reality, abstract thinking and of creativity. I know which one I love best! So I’m channeling my inner child.
I’m going back to where comfort is. I read in posts, most of us are doing this too.
I’m enjoying cooking. I’m stewing fruit. I’m making sauces and pastes. My home smells like a home.
My home is being spring cleaned. All those chores that never find a higher priority are being attended to. I am culling and discarding what I don’t use or need.
There is incense burning and with it, brings a presence. Together, we are one.
My faith has never been stronger as I face an unpredictable financial future.
Take care of yourself and each other. Think of others. Offer a kind word to the elderly who seem so worried and alone. Your smile or gesture may make a world of difference to them. Be the difference.
Anxiety negatively impacts the immune system. Keep calm. Calmness can be contagious too.
Look and read the ‘news headlines’ within. That’s where you’ll find a stronger and resilient you.
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RPD – Saturday – Looking Within
From heart to heart, a story
“Paint me a picture!”, she said.
So he did.
He filled the blank canvas with ochre and brown.
They were the only colours his blue eyes knew and loved.
She watched in silence as he painted.
Each stroke flowed, from heart to heart.
a dawn bird
In response to Six Word Saturday
Virus or viral?
I’m home for less than 24 hours before heading out tomorrow, this time for a week. My handbag is stuffed with boarding passes. I haven’t even had time to clear my purse.
With little time in Perth and several tradies lined up for Saturday morning, my household shopping needed priority. I checked what time shops open and headed out ten minutes before expecting to sit in my car listening to music but parking was a problem. I could not believe the number of cars in the usually empty car park. That should have alerted me but I’ve been away so much I have no idea what’s happening in the city. I walked in. From my vantage point in the car I could not see the several hundred people queued up with the line looped outside the shopping centre and around the building. As people tried to join the queue that slowly grew to four abreast, there was shoving and shouting. This in my neighbourhood! The folks were lined up for toilet paper. They marched out triumphantly with the one packet each allowed.
I have never experienced ‘pack mentality’. I did today. It is not something I’d like to experience again. It felt like I was in a badly made movie.
As I’m going further north and will be working with toddlers, all I needed was sanitizer. I ended up going to several chemists with one telling me he’s making his own batch of sanitizer because they have run out. I got the second last packet of toilet paper on the shelf, sent my family a text if they needed some, check out the laundry. Their priorities have been different as they fret over their pets and if they will have enough pet food.
I have to admit it is difficult to stay calm especially when I’m in a plane so often and in close proximity to others. Never has a sneeze or cough created such unease.
Today I did fret about losing two hours of my life, chasing sanitizer all because of panic buying. I’m looking forward to moments of normalcy again.
Singing honeyeater, Geraldton Western Australia
I’m off north tomorrow to red dust country. My heart and pulse quickens at the thought.
Until next time
As always, stay safe, healthy and happy
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Saturday – Calm
Kindness, matters …
I’ve written about my unease of being alone in the home, especially at night, in another post. I’m conquering that fear, but every now and then, it raises it’s ugly head. More so when I’m feeling a bit tired or vulnerable.
Constantly ‘shifting gears’, professionally, makes my spirit hungry for other things. Sometimes satiating this hunger happens just by chance when I least expect it, like my last trip.
Usually my trips to the Wheatbelt region are so predictable but this time, there was no room at the inn, so to speak. All the small motels in town were full, so also the B&Bs and there were no spare rooms available for overnight Hospital staff. The secretary heaved a sigh of relief when she found a rental home and I could almost hear the plea in her voice when she asked if it would be okay for a night. I agreed readily. The alternative, of driving there and back in a day after work, was more daunting. I attended a meeting before leaving Perth and it robbed three hours of my time, adding to my day’s angst. I drove when it was nearly dusk, something I avoid doing in rural areas.
The house was in a part of town I’m unfamiliar with and my GPS took me in circles. I found the home eventually. It was an old home with beautiful wooden floors, fireplaces, etc. Inside, it had travelled through a couple of centuries in decor, but it was clean. Unfortunately, several rooms were not on the same level, some with just a few inches drop which, after jarring my back, made me more cautious where I was stepping. I checked all the doors and windows as I always do and once I felt safe, checked out the fridge. There was no milk! It was getting dark and cooler. I knew I would be wanting a coffee in the morning, so I got in my car and headed back to town.
The streets were deserted. Even the sun had left the sky. I have never seen Narrogin in this light before. It was a moment that ended my frenetic day.
I was uneasy in an unfamiliar home. I reassured myself the floor boards creaked loudly. Being a light sleeper, it was my only security alarm. I fell asleep eventually. I woke early, as I usually do, and was delighted to see a back garden was unlike the front garden. It was very reminiscent of Perth gardens of yesteryear. Contemporary gardens in the city require less work but oh so sterile and boring! This garden was lush with grapevine, shrubs, flowers and trees. It had a presence. 
A pink geranium, the colour of hope, bloomed.
There was serenity and peace in the face of garden sculpture.
As I enjoyed my coffee in the quiet a shower of tiny birds descended, like autumn leaves on the lawn.
Inland thornbill
Silvereye
Young Australian Ringneck parrot
I was so enjoying the morning, I left my ironing to the last. Soon it was time for work but the iron and ironing board were nowhere to be found despite the owner telling me it was in the house. Fortunately, I had taken my iron with me. (Having been caught out before in a Wheatbelt motel without an iron, I carry one in the car!). I improvised using a towel on the kitchen bench top and got my clothes ironed. When I stepped into the shower, there was no soap. That would have been a problem for someone else, but not me. As I’ve started to be mindful about reducing waste, I tend to carry my own soap knowing full well, if soap is left in the shower, it gets discarded. I got to work 45 minutes late.
There have been some wonderful things happening career-wise but also some directions that I may choose to opt out of. Prior to coming to a decision, the vortex within has been unsettling. While enjoying the garden, I dearly wished I had someone in my life to bounce off when the shower of birds descended and brought this message:
You’ve had one of those days
haven’t we all?
see me stand before you
small and stretched tall
In those moments of quiet
you know this is true
there are those with ‘loved ones’
who are more alone, than you.
I opened my laptop and found an email from someone who had written the kindest words to me. Although I told her, she will still never know how much that meant to me, in that particular moment in time.
The message I have today to share is this. Never be afraid to be kind to someone.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Friday – Afraid
A Shared Space 
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