I thought I’d wake feeling like this.
I’ve had a weekend of near 100% detox. I didn’t quite make it for both days. I went out to lunch with family and in my defense, I did cut out the usual suspects, minimised what I ate (piece of grilled chicken) and enjoyed their company instead.
What the weekend showed me is that I did not lose any energy and detox had a positive impact on my mood. I did not crave three coffees in the morning. I did not crave my usual 3pm cuppa in the afternoon. This morning I’m energised and productive. I’ve already completed one report. My mind is clear. I can focus. I’m not craving anything, not even coffee. The first thing I did was reach for water. I always enjoy a quiet moment on the sofa at dawn. Today, I enjoyed the moment for longer. I felt at peace. There was no urgency to my day. I felt 24 hours is a long time to accomplish my goals for today. I did not feel a sense of euphoria (that hunger can bring on). Just peace.
I’ve been exposed to several different cultures and faiths. Most of them practice abstinence, meditation, silence, and fasting, followed by a celebration of some kind. I suspect there is more than a faith based reason for this.
What this weekend also taught me. I need to inform my family when I’m having a weekend detox. I never refuse meeting my children for a meal because we are all busy and meeting becomes a logistical challenge for all. As my work schedule takes shape for the year, I also need to be more prepared for those days I may be home. So a freezer of frozen broth is on the to do list, this week.
What I found really challenging was limiting fruit. I love eating fruit every day. So I kept the mantra in my head going, “It’s only two days”. It helped.
Will this become part of my health regime. Yes, definitely. I can see value in this. All I needed was planning to make it possible. Now, that’s sorted, I need to fine tune me.
Can I step it up and abstain from screen devices and enjoy absolute silence and solitude? I’m up for that challenge!
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
M is nearly seven. A veteran of a few surgeries and was recovering from one in this picture. She knows not to jump on me and can read my hand signal, stop. Clever girl! She is now comfortable in my home whenever they visit.
Then came Em. The Instagram star. She also found herself featured in an Ikea catalogue. Our little celebrity. Hold a mobile phone and Em will immediately get a toy and pose! She was barely a year old in this picture and is now bigger. The first thing I do on the internet each morning, is look at her latest picture. She is my morning smile.
The most recent addition to the family is Kovu, my son’s chocolate labrador. Still only a few months old he is a bundle of energy. It makes me smile when the dogs go to the beach on ‘a play date’! I nearly fell off the chair the other day when my son stated he needed to go home as his “son” was waiting for him. This from a hipster twentysomething who claims he and his fiancee are never going to have children!
I even collect recipes when I’m in a plane!
Poached egg with salmon on potato rosti with Hollandaise sauce and caper berry. Best breakfast ever enjoyed at The Pumphouse, Kununurra, far north of Perth. It is my favourite restaurant in this region that sits on the site of the old Ord Pump Station on the Ord River. The dinner with a magnificent sunset, is pretty amazing too and I’ve shared pictures of this in another post.
The most memorable breakfast I’ve ever eaten was by the banks of the King River, after sleeping under stars in outback Kimberley. Bread toasted over an open fire, the smell of eggs and bacon frying and a side of freshly caught barramundi with nothing but salt and pepper to season it. It set the bar high.
A far cry from eating out is the paleo inspired breakfast I cook for the family on a Sunday with a glass of freshly squeezed apple, celery, lime and ginger juice.
Or for lunch, one of the family’s favourite curries is a recipe from Donna Hay (Lemon Lime Coconut Chicken). A Thai inspired curry that is absolutely delicious and takes barely 15 minutes to make. 
My children have never been to India so when they were younger whatever I cooked up and presented as Indian food, got me by. They were my biggest fans, my version of a biryani being a favourite. (It’s not really a biryani, more of a pilaf!). I’m not good at cooking Indian food. I know this. I know the taste and what it should be. I never seem to get it right. Now that Perth has a proliferation of Indian restaurants serving more authentic food, I’ve noticed my children prefer to eat out when I offer to cook Indian! Hmmmm
Italian sausages cooked with capcicums, chillies and dressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar with crusty bread is a quick and delicious meal to take to a pot luck dinner with friends.
My go to comfort food is an Indian beef stew with vegetables and pasta, a recipe that evokes childhood, with nothing else to season it but salt, peppercorns, bay leaf, cinnamon and cardamon, slow cooked, of course. I’m not sure where the recipe came from but I recall our 
Then there’s the best time of year. Christmas. Where all my dreams come true. I love to experiment. This was a little shot of peppermint candy cane milkshake I made a couple of years ago.
But I’m not as creative as others in making up recipes, like this one I found in 2016 somewhere along my travels!
About 30 km out of Karratha in mining country, the Burrup Peninsular is a pretty special place, especially at sunset. It is also a place of controversy with the gas exploration near by.
I’ve been here a few times but mostly seek sunset near the water. One evening we decided to take a walk instead. With light was fading and with no torch, although my travelling companion was more adventurous, I was not keen to walk back to the car in the dark. So it was a short stay among the fearsome hot rocks.
The art here is thousands of years old, some newer (1800s). I felt a deep sense of reverence in this ancient place. This place did not have the prominence of prime time TV slots. It did not vie for attention with the glorious sunset. Yet, it captivated my attention and my spirit. It quietened me and put me in a meditative space. It was a library of life, how it was lived, by the hunters and gatherers. It emitted a message. The understanding of it, was mine to keep in the moment, interpret later, and pass on. So I am.
The pink galahs make me laugh! It would appear, when it comes to love, no different than you and me.
Born at dawn, I wake at dawn each day. When I’m not home the last thing I do before I go to bed is check the time for first light and sunrise. I then set my clock to five minutes before. I can’t think of one reason why I should stay in bed, when this is outside my hotel room in Esperance.
At home one of my pet peeves is turning on the light when it is still dark in the home. I love the quiet moment of ambivalence of darkness before light. I sit and enjoy my coffee while the shadows take shape. As I sipped my coffee I inhaled the unmistakable breathtaking perfume of jasmine. To my left, just beyond the patio, I caught a glimpse of white. The light scatter of petals will be a dense carpet soon.
As I walked around a garden, cooled by the sprinklers overnight, my eyes were drawn to new growth. My heart space has taught me, the freshest growth is where the plant is pruned the harshest. A take away message today for me.
Nature has taught me to seek an 
I often photograph surfers early morning in Esperance. Surfers walk into the water to be one with it, whereas I, a non-swimmer, stand away from the roiling waves in awe. The draw to the sea, the fear and fascination, that pull from one to the other is inexplicable. Much like a surfer, I surrender to joy of seduction, when I’m in that moment of play.
The feel of walking bare feet on sea debris.
Seeing my touchstone again on Cable Beach, before it is permanently part of the sea. (I’ve written about this rock platform in a previous post, titled Narratives).
Experiencing a moment when a tiny Lesser Sand Plover, stands like a mountain before me.
Standing below a red collared lorikeet in Kununurra wondering how did it get that shaggy look!
Looking into the glassy eyes of the Inland Thornbill.
Experiencing the delight at finding a button quail on the front lawn of a hotel, so tiny, I thought it was a mouse. The mother quail stayed a fraction longer, so I could take a picture of her beautiful feathered herringbone cloak.
Spending time with kingfishers, silent in trees above me.
And in the Midwest, where the only clouds are between wheat fields and sky.
Waking to find the colours of sunset at my doorstep, at dawn.
Spending time at the beach where I am 20 feet taller
and knowing my heart is whole again.
These joys await in the not too distant future, I know for sure. But for now, like the tiny Lesser Sand Plover I’ll ignore the waves of work and focus on just what’s before me. Work.
This time the bird stayed on the twig, aloof.
The gaze, intent.
Ever watchful.
Within a week the behaviour changed. The bird became territorial.
Every time I went to the laundry line or patio. It would watch me from a distance.
It would display the tail, the distinctive fantail and chirp excitedly.
It found a high spot, a natural arbour made by the branches of the mulberry tree.
One day it pulled itself up to look bigger and then swooped me.
One morning, unable to go outdoors, I aimed the camera at the mulberry tree. That’s when I saw the nest the Willy Wagtail had been defending. I respected the need for protection and never got to photograph the chick/s. I did find an empty eggshell one day under the mulberry tree and was happy with that.
I sat on the shore and watched children skimming rocks, while Bunbury Tower dominated 
Way across the water, people enjoyed a fun ride, sliding upwards on this lit pole and then being swung in circles. I can only imagine the views from up there.
Soon the clouds cleared. The music reached a crescendo. Sprays of colours bloomed in the air. Rockets sped upwards leaving whistling sounds in its wake before exploding in a boom. The children screamed louder with delight.
A Shared Space 
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