Author: dawnbirdau

August, the last month of winter

The Changing Seasons

Is it really August?

The last month of winter in the Southern Hemisphere arrived with torrential rain, hail, high winds and even rare snow flurries in some parts of Western Australia.

Today, thunder rolled above my roof and lightning flashed bright across grey skies. From my kitchen window I watched the doves seek shelter under the jasmine bushes, and as I wrapped my arms around myself and sought the warmth of my skin, I felt as cold as they looked.

After a whirlwind of back to back trips since October last year, I’m finally home for ten days, so I do admit, despite the bleak skies and cold, I’m enjoying being held captive at home by the rain.

I was in the Goldfields a couple of weeks ago. I have never experienced cold like I did during the trip but there were definitely some beautiful moments.

Sunrise, Kalgoorlie, Western Australia
Sunrise from my hotel room is always glorious. There’s gold in those ranges with the Super Pit gold mine just under those skies in the distance.

Rainbow in Kalgoorlie
Double rainbows were the norm most days and a treat to observe. I believe rainbows are the dolphins of the sky. It is impossible not to feel joy when you see one rise and arc across the horizon.

Back Beach, Bunbury, Western Australia

As the seasons change, so are my priorities.

I am slowly winding back my business and keeping only that which brings me joy. It is a guilty regret when I have reflected seasons have come and gone in the past 12 months and I have barely had time to pick up my camera. I had nearly forgotten what joy photography brings into my life.

Until the other day when I was rushing out of the rain and stopped in my tracks.

Despite high winds, in a recently pruned barren garden, a tiny rose leaf lay still, cradling even tinier jewel-like raindrops.

As I battle my way through this brutal winter, I close my eyes during bumpy flights, and count down the days to spring.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Still alive!

Hydrangea, in my garden

I woke this morning before light, cupped a warm mug of coffee in my hands and let a soft shiver run through my body, thinking autumn is here. As I sipped my coffee I reflected on what Easter means to me. It has been years since I last attended Mass but my faith grows stronger each day.

Easter, without all the religious rituals, has a different meaning for me. As Easter Sunday approaches I am filled with anticipation as the day brings the realisation, all things are new (born) again. It is a feeling of hope, of determination to make changes, and feel emotionally lighter.

When the sun rose higher, I washed my mug as I watched the hydrangea plants in the garden bed outside the kitchen window. I love hydrangeas! My friend planted them outside the kitchen window so I had something beautiful to look at when they bloomed. They were planted in summer when I got the plants half price in Bunbury when my favourite plant nursery closed their doors but because I had been away for weeks on end, one plant in particular looked like it didn’t make it. I had noticed in the days before Easter as the sun moved across the home, there was just a small triangle of fierce sunlight that hit one plant directly. It was not surprising the plant shed the lovely green leaves and looked ready to be tossed into the bin but I didn’t have the heart to do this.

This morning I walked toward the brown plant, determined to yank it out and put it in the bin. When I looked closer, I found the plant was still alive! It was my Easter gift!

May you, too, see growth in the impossible and improbable.

Happy Easter!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

I see it!

RDP: Abstract

“In every landscape should reside jewels of abstract art waiting to be discovered”. Melissa Brown, American artist

Over Shark Bay, Western Australia

River washed rock, along the shores of the Murchison River, Kalbarri, Western Australia

I love the unabashed randomness of wind and water that creates magical art – if one looks for it – and, importantly finds it.

Yes, it’s a treasure trove, Melissa Brown!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

It takes but a moment …

Word of the day challenge: Chill out

Woody Lake, Esperance, Western Australia

Hello again! It’s been months and I have been travelling without camera in hand. Who would have thought winding up part of my business would mean I would be busier but there is light at the end of the tunnel. By August, I should have reduced my workload. Although I enjoy all aspects of my work, I’m keeping only what I thoroughly enjoy doing.

On the morning the picture was taken I forced myself to visit Woody Lake just for a moment. It invigorated me. It was calm, serene and the sky was stunning. There was a lone white egret. And me. And silence. A moment so beautiful, I had to return to my blog and share.

It would appear being preoccupied with trimming my business, I forgot to keep in touch with what I value the most … those moments in and with nature. Perhaps, this is the return I needed … to self.

I’ve found in a changing world, one needs to find an anchor within self. Those moments of stillness where awareness is heightened. And, where better to find this stillness than in a landscape where there are no news headlines, no advertisements, no external pollution to thought and choice.

May you find what you need today, as I did.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

What the eye sees, the heart feels …

RDP – Radiant

Cassia fistula, Exmouth, Western Australia

Poinciana, Exmouth, Western Australia

Whenever I visit the parking lot in the small main shopping area of Exmouth, Western Australia, it makes it smile remembering Joni Mitchell’s lyrics in Big Yellow Taxi … “they paved paradise and put up a parking lot”.

Why?

Because someone had the foresight to make an ordinary concreted place, beautiful.

Along with frangipani, these seem to be the only flowering trees in an otherwise dry, hot, remote town and boy, do they make a statement!

Happy New Year and may the coming months gift you all that is good.

As always

Until next time

a dawn bird

What a year!

RDP – Monday -Bar

The year started like every other year. I was expecting life to set the bar no higher or lower than it has, over the past decade. I hurtled towards the familiar landscapes I’ve travelled across so frequently. I thought I had it all. Unknown to me, the Universe had other ideas.

First a family member became gravely ill and spent two months in intensive care. They have now recovered to a life that they had before illness. That, itself, is a miracle.

Reeling from this distress, I lost two-thirds of my business due to the vagaries that prevail in my field of work. I curled up into a ball …. for one night …. and, entirely unsolicited, was offered an even better and more lucrative contract the very next day. So the last few months have been hectic and kept me away from the blog as I wind up some of my work allowing me to focus on the contract I’m enjoying. To say I wake with a smile each morning is an understatement. I am in a happy space as I know within each loss, is a hidden unexpected gain.

Some of my regular work in the Goldfields continues. My hotel is in the middle of town and I, coffee in hand, never tire of the vista of beautiful old architecture each month.

I found this year a thunderstorm in the Goldfields is worth experiencing. It is all flash, thunderous noise and torrential warm rain. Quite breathtaking!

There was gold in other places too. I managed a trip to Narrogin in spring and found clumps of hibbertia hemignosta everywhere in Foxes Lair.

Then there was that amazing trip to Kalbarri in the north, where a few moments felt like a golden hour.

Flying over the pink lake of Port Gregory in the north on the way to Carnarvon, a destination I never reached but did experience three failed attempts of the small plane trying to land in poor weather, before returning home again. I have no memory of the journey home!

Flying over Shark Bay is always a treat! What’s not to love looking at this view on my way to work. It’s better than sitting in grid locked city traffic!

I spent a weekend in Margaret River without WIFI. The lack of intrusion from the outside world felt like another era in time. I have no idea what these flowers are but they were growing in huge bunches on tall trees. The birds loved them!

In spring Foxes Lair put up the usual show of wild flowers. I thought this jug orchid, drenched in morning dew, was gorgeous.

As were the tiny wild donkey orchids.

I’ve driven to Esperance three times in 12 years. It is a long drive of several hours. I tend to sleep overnight in Narrogin as the roads to Esperance are long and lonely. Fatigue is a dangerous companion. This place is a favourite stop in Ravensthorpe, a small town where this tiny shop does a roaring trade from tourists passing by. It sells all kinds of lollies (candy), ice creams, milk shakes and, of course, hot dogs. I love the Motown music she plays on repeat and it is the only place I buy a hot dog because it just seems the right place to eat one!

This tiny Mexican restaurant is in the north. It was several kms out of the town I was staying and there were no street lights on the way there. Ordinarily I would have returned back to the hotel as I had no idea where I was headed in the dark, but, much like falling in love, found it was worth the journey.

We have had a few days of fierce bushfires in the north, the smoke muting the sun during the day. I went outdoors at dusk to bring in the laundry and found this spectacular double rainbow over my backyard.

Although it has been a year of endings and beginnings, it is also a year when I have been scared out of my wits during flights and it is helping me to rethink some of my travel. Landing in Perth in a big plane from a mining town, I braced myself by holding on to the seat in front expecting the jarring of the tyres on tarmac when suddenly we were scooped up into the air again. There was no announcement, just silence while the plane circled for close to half an hour, over the ocean. People were murmuring waiting to hear the pilot speak and it seemed forever when he announced due to wind shear he could not land. Of all that I have experienced, that is one experience I rather not have again.

So what have I learned this year?

I’ve learnt to trust and it has strengthened my faith, not by doing more, but doing less. I’ve actively practiced acceptance and detachment in my everyday life (I had no other option, but to). And by doing so, found a new lease on life and an enormous sense of peace. Each day I make a concerted attempt at decluttering my life and environment. It is no longer a chore but something I look forward to every day. I buy only what I need. I only keep what I use. I honour the space I live in. I honour the space where my thoughts are kept. I honour the life I have been given.

I’ve arrived at this space because I found Nature is a healer and a teacher. We need to honour that.

So my wish for you is a simple one. Let Nature nurture your spirit. It is more powerful and richer, than any human headline.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

A white Christmas … in the outback!

RDP: Tuesday – Tradition

Exmouth, Western Australia

In my early childhood years in India we experienced Christmas as it was celebrated from 1 December onwards. Everyday there would be cooking and baking activity with a range of sweets, biscuits and cakes being made for distribution to all in the neighbourhood, regardless of their faith beliefs and to share with visitors. The treats would be plenty enough to last between Christmas Day and the Feast of Epiphany in January. The theme of sharing was strong. Gifts were rarely exchanged, if at all, but visitors could be sure of one thing, there would always be plenty of food.

I don’t recall Christmas trees in homes or shops. Nor were there Nativity scenes in homes but there was always one in the church. I loved dolls and oh! how I longed to cuddle ‘baby Jesus’ in my arms, but reverence demanded I touch the statue’s feet gently, which I did under my mother’s stern “Don’t you dare!” gaze!

Sadly, my tradition has evolved. From October I’m on the lookout for more Christmas ornaments. Over the years my Christmas tree has become too ornate. I love buying glittering glass ornaments and have too many! I have some that I bought at Harrods and Selfridges in London in the 80s! I can’t bear to part with even one. Each year I add only one new ornament to the collection with a special thought given to the one I buy. This year I was stopped in my tracks. Literally.

The picture above was taken between the township of Exmouth and the airport. It is a remote area. I’m not sure whether the Nativity scene belonged to the nearby farm or someone just decided to place it there. On a fiercely hot day it spoke to me. Driving at 80 kms/hour, I slowed down, turned my car around and reflected. No glitter or gaudy buntings in sight. Just the bare simple message of simplicity, in white cardboard. This, too, is Christmas.

Whatever your beliefs, my wish for you is to be surrounded by the love and laughter of your family and friends on Christmas Day. And, may the Christmas Star shine brightly and lead them to you.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

For your ears only …

RDP: Saturday – Tittle Tattle

Willie Wagtail

The Willie Wagtail has the sweetest call but when agitated, the chitter chatter is intense and no mistaking the mood. It makes its presence known in one way or the other. So it is not surprising, in some indigenous cultures, the Willie Wagtail is considered to eavesdrop and if one talks ill of those who have passed, the Willie Wagtail will pass on the gossip to them. It is an interesting concept because where there are people, the fearless tiny dynamite of a bird, is omnipresent and a powerful deterrent for those who believe in the symbolism of this bird.

We have all come across people like this in the work place. Those who come across as colleagues but when there is a restructure, the workplace becomes messy and with those most vulnerable to losing their position, being closest to the ear of management.

Being sick for several weeks with a lingering low grade chest infection I’ve been home for a few weeks and with time to reflect leisurely in the mornings. My reflections took me back to two significant office place scenarios and I recalled them, initially, with some sadness and then a feeling of elation.

I lost my position (but not job) when newly single. With two little children in childcare, it meant two hours of my day wasted in travel, extra expense for petrol and longer hours in childcare against a background of lowered salary. It was a nightmare time of stress and multiple demands and the lady who did not have children got a job closer to her home. It all seemed so unfair. But looking back, had that not happened, I would be working in an administrative job, nine to five, and wondering was there more to life. That scenario propelled me into higher studies and a significant career change.

The second was a job I had for over a decade. I woke each morning with a sense of adventure and looked forward to each day. Apparently, I lost it to a technicality and without a doubt, the whispering of a colleague in management’s ear. I didn’t get time to regret it because the very next day I got a better paying job with conditions beyond what I had hoped for. I would never had thought of accepting this job because why go to the unknown if you are happy doing what you were doing.

Yesterday was the first day I felt well and I realised how happy I am, where I am in life, and largely due to people who thought they got a better deal. Little do they know!

During my morning reflection it occurred to me, blessings in life come in disguise. So, I thought I’d whisper this in your ear.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Soul food

RDP: Sunday – Feed

Unfortunately, during the pandemic, with many hours at home and good access to the internet, I became an online buyer of many things I don’t really need. It was boredom, and being self-employed, I did experience a degree of anxiety about the future, when my outreach work was impacted. Pressing a button to buy something gave me a nice little buzz that became a habit every day. Being busy and travelling as much as I did before the pandemic and after, I often paid people to do tasks, as it saved time. I didn’t realise it, but I was moving dangerously into learned helplessness and a struggling bank balance.

Although I have retained some of my earlier contracts, my new contract books me solid for a week or two and then I spend three weeks at home. The shift has been interesting. It has given me space to reboot my lifestyle. So I’m starting today by joining the ‘No Buy July’ challenge (except for absolute essentials like batteries, petrol and groceries). With screwdriver in hand, I’m even going to attempt doing things for myself. I’m taking charge again.

Change is always difficult to adapt to for most people. But essential. My physical health deteriorated over a couple of years to the point I was exhausted from pain and reduced mobility. I reasoned with myself, if the slide was downwards, I needed to find a path back to health. That momentum was found in the first step from the car, to the forest. That movement, that change, was essential to my overall well being and it helped me get back on track.

As mentioned in a previous post, not being in peak health some time ago I headed to the deep forests of the south west.

The forest sounds were soothing and I emerged two to three times a day from the healing of ‘forest bathing’.

Among the tall timber, I found myself, again.

And I found mind and body more integrated when I saw the tiny red winged splendid fairy wren foraging, for the first time. This one is a female.

Plain and simple and almost invisible among the debris, she is well sought by the male. How awesome is that!

The male is a sight to behold! Brilliant in colour, and poised, this tiny creature has a presence among tall timber. I can still remember the visceral response to seeing this tiny creature in all its glory.

These wrens, some people believe, have a spiritual symbolism. They represent change and moving on from something that no longer feeds your soul, is “positive disloyalty” (wildspeak.com).

People, sometimes, stay in toxic situations longer than they need to. I believe, fear, is a powerful anchor that keeps them from walking. For others, fear of the unknown. Little did I know at that time, there was a major career change ahead of me.

Although I will miss the outback, the soul food offered in the South West in my corner of the world, is an unexpected gift. So, I accept with gratitude.

May you find trust in the Universe to provide you with all that you need.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

That moment of calm …

RDP: FRIDAY – Serenity

Descending into Carnarvon, Western Australia

We are four weeks into winter, so I close my eyes and go to warmer places. I still wake early at dawn most days, even when I’m not travelling. I stumble around in the dark, my footsteps softened by warm bed socks and make myself a cup of coffee in the dark. Even though I live alone, my movements are small, my touch light. I can’t wait for the hiss of the kettle to settle. It is way too loud, when all else is silent.

That serene moment that lies suspended between night and day, is fragile. I am respectful of that.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

With these hands …

RDP: Sculpture

Give a child a lump of Playdoh and they will, squeeze, twist and pat, and create something with it. It is the creative and playful mind at work.

To be creative is one thing, but it is not always synonymous with being imaginative. The distinction is this. A child can copy a Lego design beautifully brick by brick, but a child who pulls it apart and creates something of their own, is using their imagination. This distinction is something I’ve always had to be mindful of in my work with children.

When I moved into my current home a decade ago, the dream was to fill it with art and sculpture. The plan was to live in a happy place, a place I could call home. It has taken some time, but I’m getting there.

While striving to shape my dream into a reality, I had to be content with eclectic art and sculpture I found in other places.

Roadside, on the way to Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

The Balinese people make ornate carvings that adorn even the humblest of homes.

At the entrance of my hotel, Bali

Then there are those that are huge and imposing, often found in the hotels.

Outside the hotel spa, Bali

This sculpture, in particular, took me back to childhood years. We had a guava tree that canopied over a small water tank. I spent many an hour, stretched out over a branch, watching people below, pretending I was a leopard.

The sculpture is beautifully made and perhaps best viewed when expanded to see the filigree that makes up the spots on the leopard.

In a friend’s garden, Canberra

I love how someone turned a humble garden spade into a quirky little duck.

Waterbird, sculpture by Jason Wooldridge, a local artist and sculptor in Esperance, Western Australia

I find Jason’s work irresistible and his vision finds a place in my home and heart. I have several of his work. All birds, of course! He takes scrap metal and turns it into delicate sculpture.

Jonathan Jones, indigenous sculptor, National Art Gallery, Canberra

I was in Canberra last year for just two days. My nephew, an architect, asked me what I wanted to do. The National Gallery, of course! Of all that the Gallery offered in the time I was there, I was so drawn to the work of Jonathan Jones. These massive stones were in a huge open space with a narration in Wiradjuri language underpinning a simple but profound message about Country: stay connected, and the reciprocity of need and caring for it. I went to the Gallery with my nephew and his toddler. She sat in the stroller, quiet as a mouse and took it all in, as did we. There was a sense of solemnity that was quite powerful and moving. It was difficult to walk away from this space.

Sculpture by Jonathan Jones, National Art Gallery, Canberra

Sculpture by Jonathan Jones, National Art Gallery, Canberra

I loved this one the most. It was huge and just so very beautiful.

River bed, Murchison River, Kalbarri, Western Australia

And then there are those unexpected sculptures left behind in nature.

Some with angles and edges, waiting for the sculptor’s hand to shape and define. Others, made perfect by the storms and ebb and flow of tides, and all that remains, is just heart. Much like us.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Still flying high …

Word of the Day Challenge: Elated

It’s been too long since I last shared this space with you. So much has happened and so suddenly, that I’ve hardly had time to catch my breath. Reflection seemed too expensive a luxury, so life went on at a pace that I could barely keep up.

For over sixteen years I’ve travelled the breadth of Western Australia. Our State covers a third of Australia, and yet with barely 3 million population. I’ve met the most wonderful people in the most unexpected places. My travel and work has brought me immense joy.

The reality this would end was always at the back of my mind. How would I deal with that reality when it surfaced was a niggling question I dared not answer. I’m pleased to say, I’ve done it, I believe with grace.

Kalgoorlie, Goldfields, Western Australia
In the gold mining town of Kalgoorlie, a town with a huge gold mine, I stood at my hotel window and gazed on it in morning light, as if I had seen it for the first time. There is a church nearby and as I stand on the hotel balcony with coffee mug in hand, I hear the bells toll on the hour and half an hour from 6am. It is a sweet sound. Being a mining town, people are already awake at that hour. So am I. I’ve been to this town several hundred times. I love the history and old heritage architecture. The streets are wide and people during the gold rush came here with big hearts filled with hope and dreams. No different to mine.

Landing in Exmouth, Western Australia
As we headed into winter I was fortunate enough to get work in Exmouth, in our warmer north. The seascape over this region is pretty spectacular. This is a quintessential landscape of Western Australia of isolation and connectedness. If you view the picture on your phone, you’ll find it a couple fishing and relaxing on the beach.

Town Beach, Exmouth, Western Australia
I was too busy in Exmouth. Once word gets out I’m doing outreach work in the area, I am inundated with work. I snuck out between appointments to Town Beach, just a couple of minutes from my hotel, to find it crowded with backpackers at sunset. The BBQ was sizzling, there was loud duff duff music, jugglers, hula hoops and young people swaying like palm trees. Amid the noise and celebration of youth, I caught a moment of serenity.

Bunbury, Western Australia
The contrast could not have been more stark in the South West. I had to make two trips to Bunbury area in a month. At the end of the first trip, I left town an hour before a tornado hit. Yes! a tornado! This took all by surprise. We don’t usually have tornadoes. When I returned I found the big majestic trees split and strewn around. The sound of wood chippers hurt my ears.

Bunbury, Western Australia
A storm raged on the day I had to drive to Busselton, just a mere 50 km away. Midway there was torrential rain like I’ve never experienced before. I clung on to the tail lights of a road train that cleared a flooded road ahead for me. I got to the Bunbury hotel safely, but unable to do much else.

Two days later I had to head north to Carnarvon. I looked forward to the trip with a degree of eagerness, seeking warmth after winter storms. The flight was great as usual. Between Shark Bay and Carnarvon the weather changed. The flight is barely 30 minutes between these two coastal towns. The small plane flew low to land, then took off again. After two more attempts in poor weather, the pilot returned us back to Perth. A FIFO worker behind me, returning home to Carnarvon, was frustrated. He urged, encouraged and then shouted in frustration at the pilot … “just land the effing plane, bro!”. Having spent 11 hours of my day travelling and never reaching my intended destination, I went to bed that night, never happier to be home again.

Just when I was left exhausted from the stress of weather events, I was offered work that will reduce my flying but not loss of income. Committing to the new job felt like Nature placed me in safe hands. I accepted the job without a second thought. I would never have done this had I not experienced a humbling moment.

Being in a small plane in a storm is no fun. One is bounced around like one is in an out of control roller coaster. You tighten your seatbelt. You grip the seat in front of you. You close your eyes to avoid seeing the plane lurch like a drunken uncle. There is no room for fear, just a yearning and a simple prayer, to be on ground again.

Finally your prayer is answered. The screech of tyres on tarmac, is music.

And, that my friends, is a moment of elation!

Until next time,

As always

a dawn bird