Month: November 2020

The art of architecture

I’ve changed a lot. In my youth architecture was synonymous with beautiful domes, stained glass, marble and intricacies that delighted the eye. I then grew to love line and form, in a word, simplicity. Now my heart yearns and is steeped in nostalgia. When I visit rural and remote areas I look for the language and lives of people who once lived there and called it home.

This was once a thriving settlement, east of Mullewa in the Midwest.

I loved the corrugated roof line and wondered what it sounded like when it rained.

A home on the main highway to Perth in Popanyinning. Although old, it is still vibrant with life.

Another old home down the road. What was life like indoors? I sat across from it and conjured up the laughter of children, harrassed mother shooing them out to play while she was hard at work over the wood stove, waiting for her husband to return from work. These days, it would seem, the laughter of children has been quietened by hand held devices.

This would have been a grand old home once. It still is.

One often finds architecture similar to this in rural areas, mostly post war.

Drive into any outback or rural town and the most impressive building will be the pub. This was in Cue, in the Murchison region.

Or in the Wheatbelt, this building dominates the main road in Dalwallinu.

In outback and rural towns three buildings are omnipresent. The hospital, the church and the pub. This was once the hospital in Wiluna, a thriving town of some 8000 people in the gold rush heyday, now only a few hundred people. The town sits at the edge of the Western Desert and the population is mostly indigenous. The hospital is now an art centre and museum. The art sold here is stunning.

The organised religious groups have a strong presence in these communities. This is the Catholic Church in Mt Magnet, pristine with sleek lines and somewhat cold on a hot day so I found my chapel under the night sky studded with stars.

Buildings are a vision of the architect, transformed, it is the language of the time and like any communication, has the potential to generate connection. And, in these times, isn’t that the essence of simplicity in what we seek?

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Architecture

Spring into Summer

One of my disappointments this year has been the loss of a contract in the Wheatbelt region. I loved working in those communities and enjoyed the landscape that is so rich in diversity, so I was thrilled to be offered a one off visit during spring.

Needless to say the first place I visited was Foxes Lair in Narrogin. It was festooned with wildflowers as far as the eye could see.
But as always, my eye searched for that one flower that lit me up from the inside.
I’ve been working a lot in the Midwest region and in the Murchison outback. I’ve had to drive to Geraldton, sometimes more than once a month, a trip of over 800 km return that I enjoyed but it started to take a toll on me. Fortunately the flights there have resumed on a regular basis. My base is Geraldton when I travel through the Murchison by small plane. The flight across this vast landscape allows me to view it differently. It is an ever changing canvas.
Heading to the Gascoyne region I’m impatient to fly over Shark Bay. The area is stunning on land and from air.
I visited some small towns in the Eastern Wheatbelt I hadn’t visited before and was delighted to see some old buildings preserved as is. This was in the small town of Pingelly.
And to find a corner store in Popanyinning, one that no longer exists in the city, that sells everything including petrol. This road is the main highway to Perth!
“You can’t miss it!” she tells me. The signage that guides me to homes is sometimes amazing! This was 30 kms off the highway on an unsealed road and the landmark to turn into the farm I was visiting.
Spring ended with the first of the art work arriving. I met Sobrane, an artist who lives in Broome, some years ago. I knew one day her work would find a place in my home as it had in my heart, but I didn’t expect it to arrive with love.
My house is transforming into a home. The beautiful brolga dances with joy, and do so I.

May the journey you take through the seasons be the one that enriches your spirit and the change you experience, be the change you want.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Changing Seasons

The City Rogue

As is my routine while in Esperance, I check the sunrise time each day and set my alarm for five minutes earlier. With summer a few weeks away, the early light gives me more down time in a day.

I headed to Woody Lake, a place I’ve visited dozens of times, each time more curious than the last. I always find something here that soothes my soul in a way no bright city lights can.

On this morning I headed into the region, driving no more than 5 kms an hour. I know before 6 am the kangaroos feed roadside. Not this morning though. I was alone and even the birds had not woken.

I sat for some minutes enjoying the solitude when I saw it roadside.

I knew it was male but hunched, I could not determine the size until the big old boomer started to move.

The walk across was slow and laboured. He was old and possibly injured.

Halfway across the path he stopped.

He stood for a minute or two listening intently. Oh! how I wished he would move as I feared a car coming in around the bend would not see the animal. Contact would have been disastrous.

He then started a slow motion hop to the other side of the path.

And across the tyre tracks I had left behind.

If ever there was a moment of wonder in the brief interaction. This was it. The old boomer was huge and yet it disappeared into the short grass without a trace.

I often wake in the city with the movements of the old boomer. In a word, the productive side of me, goes rogue. It takes me forever to complete tasks, and there are times I don’t recognise who I am. But not so in the rural and remote areas where I find I am energised and bright eyed.

Having lost some of my business to budget cuts I have been busier trying to fill in the void with more business. I’m working in an unsettled and changing field where nothing comes guaranteed. It brings on a degree of stress I can do without but somehow I find the time and space to seek moments that nurture my spirit. Those precious moments give me the momentum to move forward.

I didn’t know this at the time when I reflected on this encounter, but kangaroos can only move forward, not backwards. There was a lesson in this encounter for me and I am happier for receiving it.

My wish for you today is that you find momentum that moves you forward.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Rogue

Just add colour …

Flying over the Pilbara mining region, north of Perth, Western Australia.
One of my favourite summer fruits, the luscious raspberry.
My young adults have turned vegan. The challenge for me today was to cook a vegan breakfast. I was surprised how easy it was to do and tasty, too.
This is my daughter’s beautiful Embley, with her forever smile and tricolour coat that is so distinctive of Bernese Mountain dogs.
A lily at my favourite hotel that always makes me stop for a moment or two no matter how busy I am.

Sunday is nearly over and a sense of celebration still in the air. My young adults visited with their dogs today. It is the first time in many months when it was just the three of us. I so enjoy their company but more so, observing the interactions between siblings. They always want to share what’s happening in their life with each other or stories about their latest visit with their father. There are some dynamics more joyful to observe than others. Today was one of those days when I listened and observed and it made my day.

Happy Sunday!

As always

a dawn bird

Debbie’s One Word Sunday is Colour

Count your blessings

“Count your blessings” was my mother’s favourite advice, especially when things were not going right. Embedded in the words was the focus on gratitude, joy and hope. I woke to this today.

Hope for me is the light we see in the darkest hour.

Pink is also the colour for hope. So on this glorious Sunday I offer, from garden to you, hope for a world that unites. Hope for a world that heals. Hope for a world where people care about each other and the environment.

I can’t think of a better vision as we approach the end of a challenging year.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Count

My Spring Garden

I’m a few days behind this word prompt but nothing expresses my emotion more succinctly than the word anticipation when it comes to spring in my garden.

My backyard is set for a make over. It will be expensive so I’ve left it for last to be completed. The outdoor hot spa will be removed and replaced with a meditative space. For now, anticipation takes over the interim period. The honeyeaters, the Willy Wagtails and the rainbow lorikeets don’t know this as yet but the mulberry tree will remain.

For now, flowers have floated free from another garden.
And in tiny spaces, bloom for me.
The neglected jasmine is unrecognisable.
And as I examined in awe how quickly the mulberry tree has gone from bare to fruit, I heard the unmistakable screech of the lorikeet.
I stood right under this young one, too young, to fear.
I watched with delight as it picked a mulberry
Deftly caught it
Feasting on it before my eyes.
The joy of return of these birds to my garden is something special to me.

My wish for you is that something that brings you joy returns to you today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Friday – Anticipation

Like hope …

At first light
a soft cloud gave birth to a rainbow in the sky
the colours that emerged were vivid
but the momentum too weak
so the arc remained incomplete

I watched
my eyes fixed on a brilliant horizon
but the sky remained grey
Oh! how I willed it to stay
but the rainbow faded away

curled on a couch
sheltered from the rain
I reached
for the message deep within

an uneventful sky is blue,
some may say, boring, too
but like hope, a rainbow is born
when the seed of sun and rain unite
in the womb of a cloudy sky

to emerge with a sole purpose
to delight the eye

a dawn bird

In response to VJ’s Weekly Challenge #119: Soft