Life has been a whirlpool over the last few weeks. I’m coming up for air before heading off to the Goldfields, and then, three more trips before the end of the month.
In the last ten days I’ve spent nearly a whole week in the south west. It was a busy time but I found some time to relax and take things easier when my day was done. But, the trip did not start and end as well.
Unfortunately, I did something I have never done before in all the hundreds of trips I’ve undertaken. I had forgotten to send in my travel request so I arrived in Busselton and found I had no accommodation booked. The folks at the hotel were kind enough to give me a room while the admin lady sorted that out payment with the agency. In Bunbury, the agency could not get the usual hotel and I had to stay in one I hadn’t stayed in for years. I was looking forward to it as it is more upmarket with better amenities and the perfect end to a busy few days. I thought fortune had smiled on me. Not so!
I got there later in the evening only to find new management had taken over. The girl at the desk insisted I give her details of my home and email addresses. Firstly, she didn’t need it. The agency booked me in. Secondly, my details are suppressed on the electoral roll. I don’t give out my home address. I tried to explain the situation to her. She was adamant and I grew impatient. I told her tersely, we both had a choice before us. Either I check in, or I take my business elsewhere. I checked in without giving my personal details.
Then I had to park in the underground car park where turning and bays were tight and each time my car beeped a warning, I grew more anxious. I could only see private bays so I phoned her and then she tells me, I needed to park in a special bay that was unmarked but of a specific colour, to indicate it belonged to the hotel. Of course! I muttered under my breath. I was supposed to know this! I squeezed into the bay and went up the elevator wearing my best cranky pants. With all the scrapes along the wall, I could see other cars had difficulty negotiating the tight space, too. In the few seconds it took me to go upstairs, I reasoned with myself, I needed time out before I said anything to the Receptionist, after all she was just doing her job and probably new to it as well. So I drove to Australind, a few kms out of Bunbury where I knew my spirit would be calmed.
I love this spot in Australind. It is the perfect foreground to Bunbury. The wetlands has a lot of waterbirds. It is beautiful at sunset.
I watched folks taking time out. So I picked up on their cue and stayed longer. By the time I got back to Bunbury, I had forgotten how irritable I had been.
That night I reflected on my emotions and found there was an underlying reason beyond the hotel situation that riled me up. I dislike underground car parks and I have a good reason why I don’t want people to know where I live. The trigger is a post in the making for the last year. I’ll get there one of these days.
I’m now home for a few hours before flying out. This morning I walked in the garden, coffee in hand, to the sound of birds. The lorikeets, the magpie larks, the wattlebirds, the crows, the magpies, the occasional laugh of the kookaburra, the swish of the wings of waterbirds heading to the lake. I also found the pink crepe myrtle is in full bloom, a lovely bouquet reaching to the sky. A beautiful surprise, blooming in one corner of my garden, just for me.
I’m home, although only for a few hours, but happy to be in this space, (and, without cranky pants!).
Hope you are in a happy space too.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
The tall gum trees were canvas to the stories and biodiversity of the six Nyoongar seasons and shared through the eyes of the first people with the intermittent haunting sounds of the didgeridoo that made one catch one’s breath. There’s a short clip on You Tube that’s worth a look for the full effect. (My pictures don’t do the event any justice).
We walked through ‘burning’ forests where new growth takes place best.
Through gardens of anemones that floated above us, a wondrous underwater canopy.
And watched fish swim up trees.
I loved the shadow drama of hunters and gatherers that made people stop and stare in silence.
And the forest walk where …
Endangered plants in lanterns lit up the night. A sobering thought.
And finally resting our weary feet at the theatre where messages of conservation were communicated on a gum nut
by children and indigenous elders . The audience was rapt.
This is Solo, a duckling I found on the banks of the lake near my home. She was part of a big family, but she caught my eye. I’ve written about her in a 
Solo has remained a duckling in memory. I suspect a careless driver ended her adventures one day. I never saw her again after the initial few days she roamed the neighbourhood. I’m sure Solo would agree, single or attached is irrelevant. It is how we live life is important. Tiny as she was, she was powerful in her presence. She taught me, if one looks, one finds, life is all about the unexpected. I’ve seen new generations of ducklings since then, but she remains warm in memory. Today my smile comes easier.
On the banks of the Fitzroy River in Willare (Kimberley region) I found these leaves along the banks. The wind had created this perfect formation. They were tightly wedged in.
At home the bees in the front garden love the roses. I love the tiger stripes and colours.
I have become addicted to the crunch of my boots in the silence of the bush. Sometimes I stop and check what’s at my feet. Often I find perfection.
I always seem to find heart shaped rocks on the beach. I now find heart shaped leaves in the bush. The universe is speaking and so I stop and listen, ear to the ground.
I love photographing surfers. They are passionate and fearless. I learn from them, it’s okay to be the same.
Surfers find balance, in balance. A hard act to follow. I’m fine tuning that.
Summer, in my 
I stood at the window and there it was. Flitting around under the patio. It feeds off the insects in the cobwebs, and flies around with ‘crumbs’ stuck to his face. I watched it practice fantail, unsuccessfully, and smiled like a parent while gazing at it with affection.
A Shared Space 
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