musings – Page 5 – A Shared Space

Message from a dragonfly …

It’s that time of year again. I am looking for respite in all kinds of creative ways. Five minutes of laundry, a three minute prayer, a coffee mug that needs washing right away. The reports are being completed, one at a time, each around 20 pages, some longer. The pressure is intense. End of school year is three weeks away. Children who are eligible for special needs funding need people to zone out everything else and commit to deadlines. I’m trying to stay afloat.

Having flown in this morning, I made a list of things I needed to do before flying out again tomorrow. My knees did buckle momentarily. There’s only 24 hours in a day. On days like this, that is a revelation and surprise.

I can work late into the night, I reassure myself. I’ll rest in the hotel tomorrow night. It’s something I tell myself each time, but rest is elusive. I always find something else ends up with a higher priority.

As the clothes line got busy with wet laundry, she caught my eye …

As much as I love birds and, a friend tells me whenever she sees a bee, she thinks of me, I have always been drawn to dragonflies. The fact that they fly across oceans with filigree wings, amazes me. I have photographed them as they fly, mate, and with wings poised, alight on surfaces, but I have never seen one at rest.

As I ticked laundry off the list, I stopped. I heard the message through my camera.

Rest, fold your wings
balance awhile
tomorrow, we fly again

And, for a moment, as I looked through the lens, the pressure eased.

a dawn bird

In response to Daily Word Prompt – Alleviate – November 30 2019

Do look back … 30 November 2019

I think reflecting on the past month is a wonderful way to take a breath …
I’ve come to realise in the past few months, it is at home and in my garden is where I find best balance.

Where birds comes to visit me for a change.

I’ve enjoyed a long drive between Carnarvon and Geraldton. This is my favourite roadhouse along the way. I found out this area is prone to flooding when it rains, and quite beautiful with numerous billabongs that attract birdlife. The change between spring to summer has been swift. It was a hot drive.
The highway between Carnarvon and Geraldton is long and lonely. My colleague and I always feel carefree in these parts. We usually stop here and stretch our legs at a lookout that overlooks Gladstone Beach in the far distance.
Geraldton has become my second home. I’ve grown to love this place and the easy lifestyle.
Returning home from trips I found the gooseberries were turning into jam on the bush from the heat. What happened to spring, this year?
The mulberries are plentiful and most out of my reach, except for my zoom.
In Esperance the wildflowers have disappeared and birdlife is plenty. This wattlebird was as curious about me, as I was of it.

The wildflowers have disappeared in Foxes Lair too except for a hardy few. I saw a blur in the bush and found it was the tiny pink trigger plants.
The pied stilt was gorgeous at Chinaman Pool, in Carnarvon, at sunset.
I’ve just returned from being away for nearly ten days and found Perth is sweet home, after all. Now that came as a surprise to me!

It’s the first day of summer tomorrow. I’ll be starting it in the heat of the Goldfields.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to The Changing Seasons – November

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas …

Christmas Lily, Esperance, Western Australia

Around this time of year, the Christmas lily blooms in the garden of the hotel where I stay in Esperance. I love the colours and perfection of the flower. It reminds me to hang in there, the year is coming to an end.

As we prepare for Christmas, Thanksgiving is on the horizon for my family, friends and blogger friends in the Northern Hemisphere.

May you enjoy your celebrations on a day of togetherness and gratitude.

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Cee’s FOTD Photo Challenge –

All wheels lead to home …

MQDChzOCSJGNFWZPKbDdfg_thumb_182a 2.jpg Somewhere between Carnarvon and Geraldton, Western Australia

We left early morning, laughed and agreed, a greasy breakfast is how we would start the day. We stop at the truck stop, bought a toasted egg and bacon sandwich and coffee, and headed out, the day already warm. At my feet, icy cold Pepsi and frozen grapes, because we knew, the day was only going to get warmer. The road trip took 5.5 hours of steady driving. The landscape, pretty amazing. The foliage changes frequently. The earth changes from red to blush pink, to butter yellow. We take turns in describing our perspective. The colours hold us spellbound. There are goats roadside just about for the whole journey. They are smart! One never has to be concerned about them running across the road; they run away from traffic.

We chat, share anecdotes, laugh, plan our respective futures. Twenty years younger than me, I have enormous respect for my colleague. She is wise beyond her years. I learn from her each time we work together. The hours drift and we arrive in Geraldton, safe.

I’ve spent a lot of time on the road this year. It has spurned me into thinking of other possibilities. It is the first time in my 20+ years of travel, I’ve started to think about new directions.

My children are living their own lives now. My daughter and her partner just returned from a big holiday in the US, that included a Caribbean cruise with his parents. Last night my son and his wife left for a belated honeymoon to Japan. They have well and truly flown the coop. My role in their lives has changed. I am now mum who they check in on to see how I’m doing. When did this shift take place?

As the year comes to an end, I’ve found myself looking at real estate, looking for my forever home. It will be small and somewhere between beach and bush in the South-West. Importantly, my adult children no longer protest when I talk about leaving the city. It makes it easier for me to leave.

It is now my time to dream. It’s a good place to be.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Finity

In open landscape or empty beach I am constantly searching for that one thing that speaks to me and when it does, I settle in to listen.

Jurien Bay, Western Australia

This is the smallest shell I have ever found. To give some perspective, the sand is fine like sugar. The shell is no bigger than a nail from an infant’s pinky finger and, like a gift offered, filled with scooped sand.

If we viewed our lives as such, moments scooped in a tiny shell, would we live our lives differently? Be less afraid? Love more deeply? Take risks in the knowledge an ending is just a beginning elsewhere. Maya Angelou, says this well.

Passing Time (by Maya Angelou)
Your skin like dawn
mine like musk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

Worth thinking about …

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Circle of security

A little dewdrop escaped his lips
and landed on my knee
I gasped in exaggerated surprise
catching his smile, with mine

He slid down his mother’s knee
toddled his first steps across the floor
steadied himself, turned and grinned at me

in that brief moment, I knew
this is not how it should be

His mother missed it all
flicking the feed of selfies galore
chuckling intermittently at what she saw
but how I wish she had seen what I had seen
when he checked in with me

a dawn bird

In response to VJWC – # 72 – Wish

The nature of the sea …

Sunset, Exmouth Gulf, Exmouth, Western Australia

When I’m by the sea I often reflect on relationships. Is there such a thing as forever? Or is there more to be enjoyed in those fleeting moments of visitation, like those experienced by the tides’ ebb and flow?

The picture jogged my memory about what Anne Morrow Lindberg wrote …

“When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity – in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.

The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread of anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits – islands, surrounded and interrupted by the seas, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides.” Anne Morrow Lindberg, Gift from the Sea (www.goodreads.com).

One day I will find someone who understands, fully understands, and embraces this philosophy.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

A lightbulb moment

Storm skies, Back Beach, Bunbury Western Australia

I know I’m too busy when I’m dying for a cuppa and I’ve run out of milk. So it was on of those days when I popped into the local grocery store to buy some and I heard her voice. I walked past her while she was talking to a younger woman. It was the way she reached out and touched the woman’s arm that jogged my memory. She was someone who had moved out of the neighbourhood some twenty years ago. Our children went to the same school and were classmates. My children always liked her because she was such a warm person. I went up and politely interrupted her conversation saying, “are you X’s mum?”. As she said yes she scanned her memory trying to figure out who I was. “I’m XX’s mum”, I said. Oh! the hugs and oh my goodnesses!

She tells me she has moved back to the neighbourhood alone. I must have looked concerned, “Oh! don’t worry”, she adds quickly, “he didn’t die!” We both laugh at the black humour. She tells me her marriage of 40 years had ended. The children had left home and have their own lives. She had been a stay at home mother. One day she realised her husband had not addressed her by her name in a decade. It saddened her. She called it quits. They were just treading water. She said wistfully, “I wish I had seen the light earlier”.

People stay in defunct relationships for different reasons. Fear, often, is one of them. The fear of being alone, of never finding someone else, losing financial security, the impact of divorce/separation on children and extended family, of upending the status quo that has taken years to create. I can relate to all of this. Leaving was not easy, especially when holding the hands of little children. But despite the darkest clouds that hung around for years, there was a silver lining.

I found my faith grew stronger. I no longer talked about it. I lived it. I found compassion for others I never knew I had.

The lens through which I viewed life was softer around the edges. I found joy in small things every day.

I no longer wanted to change others. I sought to change myself. I found the more self-accepting I became, the more others accepted me for who I am. I wish I had seen this light earlier.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Light

I see real people …

In the last few days I’ve worked between Kalgoorlie and Coolgardie. For some this landscape is just bush and an ordinary, long drive. Nothingness, even. Given the gold rush history of these towns, and all that came before, this is vibrant landscape to me.
I had to stop road side as the mulla mulla bloomed bright. thumb_IMG_0515_1024
And when leaving the Goldfields, depending on my mood, I am saddened by the big, open cut gold mine that scars this landscape. At other times, I am fascinated by the activity here. On this trip, I had mixed emotions.

My schedule was busy, as it usually is, in these parts. It is rare for people to cancel. I walked across a still warm car park and past the bank of white flowers. The perfume took me by surprise. I stopped to adjust my luggage just so I could take another deep breath. I walked into the terminal and was blasted by the aroma of pizza and beer. There is a celebration just about every corner. I had forgotten it was Melbourne Cup day, a horse race that stops a nation, but not me. I was on the road between two historic mining towns. I suddenly realised I had not eaten all day. I had another three hours before getting home. The crowd around the small bar/cafe too big for me to be served before my flight took off. I had nothing else to do but distract myself. This is no fancy lifestyle but it makes up in other ways.

I ended up getting a window seat at the back. Not the best spot. It is boozy back there. A young, muscled, tattooed man sits in the middle seat. He is polite and with a heavy accent, I strain to understand him as we settle down to being strangers again. The plane is full and as the last stragglers get on board he erupts in greeting to someone down the aisle. Turns out they will be seated together. Fist pumps and mates, they share their journeys since they last worked together. I try to distract my hunger by counting how many times his mate uses the f word and give up because he breathes it. The young man seated at the end of my row is hilarious and I stifle my laughter as he yells out to another mate, a few rows down, “Hey! Princess!” I could just see him as a young child in a classroom, a teacher’s nightmare! His life is an open book and all those within earshot are welcomed to thumb through the pages. With a recent break up behind him, his polite mate asks if he lives near his ex. He responds, “as long as there’s a bank between us, it will be too close” and then roaring with laughter tempers this, “nah! it’s all good!” I believe him, it’s all good. There’s not a trace of malice or regret in response.

The plane landed with an almighty thud and to a roar of “FAAAARK!” shouted in unison. These tough, hard working blokes were not impressed and I had to smile when someone was convinced the landing had fixed his dodgy knee surgery! As we ready to disembark, I lean forward for my bag when I make eye contact with the young man at the end of my row. His face is tanned red, his bushy beard is redder, his eyes brighter blue than a Goldfields sky. For a brief moment he is subdued and in a quieter voice very politely says to me, “Sorry about the language mam, didn’t mean to disrespect. I’m just a wanker!” I have mined gold vernacular!

I’m still smiling in the taxi, tired but happy, while I reflect on my trip. My lifestyle is not a comfortable one. It takes me out of my comfort zone. It should tire me. But it does not. I’m usually more energised by my trip at the end, than when I leave home with anticipation. Perhaps I have worked on this mindset of look, listen, feel, experience. I believe this mindset has kept me fresh because, there are those special encounters I have in a professional setting, and, then there are others.

Yes, I see real people.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Jaded

To each, their own …

I woke this morning in Exmouth and felt a sense of elation. I felt like my own self again. Focused. Enthusiastic. Productive. And, seeking joy. It has taken exactly one month for me to feel 100% again.
Sunrise, Exmouth Gulf, Exmouth, Western Australia
I found joy watching the sunrise and being early Saturday, Town Beach was deserted.
I had the whole beach to myself at 5 am.
I watched the tide recede and as it did, I rummaged through the debris. I love these gifts of the sea.
I had time to drink champagne and laugh and not take life too seriously.
Enjoy the fabulous surrounds of Ningaloo Reef Resort with a note to self, to return in 2020. Not only is it a beautiful hotel, the staff are wonderful too.
Delight in the perfection found in nature.
It was too hot to drive to Turquoise Bay, so indoors with air con or leaving windows open for sea breeze, was the best idea.

Good food, good drinks, good company, an empty beach and a feeling that all is well. That’s my idea of khushi (Hindi for happiness).

It’s a simple recipe, worth repeating.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Saturday – Cushy

This, too, is karma …

I’ve just returned from Esperance. It is probably the first trip in dozens that I did not visit magnificent West Beach. There was something in the air at Woody Lake that kept me there, something more than the fact I was on my own at dusk and early morning. I got there early and waited. I’m not sure for what. I just surrendered to the serenity of the moment that lasted two hours this morning.

The kangaroos were too quick to photograph and disappeared into the scrub before I could focus. Soon there was birdsong. Nothing I have heard before. It was a nursery choir with unfamiliar sounds, all tuning up to perfect one day. But not today. Today, the off key cacophony made me smile.

The scrub was filled with little chicks.
Not yet afraid, the Silvereye held on …
To catch this tiny bird at breakfast with an even tinier spider made my day.
It was as curious about me as I was of it. I wandered around for a couple of hours and as I was leaving I spotted something white in the scrub.
A tiny, fluffy grey fantail chick.
With sun beaming at, or was it from, her chest. I was dazzled.
Another juvenile played hide and seek, with several attempts at spreading the tail.
There was another chick
And another, resting after play.
And my first ever glimpse of a juvenile cuckoo.

Where does this delight in birds come from? Perhaps it is this …

As a child I yearned to be free. Free as a bird I would say to my mother who tightened apron strings. Even birds have to conform to the flock she would caution, or they die. I thought I was invincible, as I threw a “Not me!” over my shoulder and out the door.

I believe I knew what I wanted from about the age of six and every step of my life’s journey has been activated, framed, motivated by that one desire. To be free. I’m not sure what I wanted to be free of, but I knew I wanted freedom.

I believe I’ve achieved my childhood dreams. Is it karma?

I have lived a life of freedom and on my terms. Every step I have taken, every decision made, has led me to this point. I have not lived life passively or as an observer. I have lived my life, as intended. And, I’m not done yet.

Karma is not a b*tch. It is not life’s punishment for something bad you may have done, or rewarding you for something you have done right.

Karma is not a backward glance. Karma is filled with hope and is forward thinking. It is an acceptance, at any point of one’s life, one has the ability to change the course of how one lives, if one chooses to do this. It’s taken a long time to come to this realisation. So I start new each day. Yes, life can be that simple for me.

May your steps today lead to good karma.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Word of the Day Challenge – Karma

Message in a bottle

Even though the year has not yet ended, I still believe one of the highlights in 2019 for me was the experience of ‘Boorna Waanginy: The Trees Speak’. A Festival of Perth light and oral history of land of the Noongar people played against the backdrop of tall gum trees was a memorable experience. I’ve written about it in another post. You, too, can experience it by watching the clips on You Tube.

The walk was Ikea-like. One way until you reach the end. As the crowd of thousands flowed through Kings Park we pooled into a magical garden where glowing glass bottles hung from tree limbs and branches. The garden was tucked away and the soft glow emanated a feeling of intimacy, a oneness. On closer inspection, each lantern was labelled. This was a place of awareness. A place where knowledge was shared. The labels identified species that are threatened. The flora. The fauna. Voices of those impacted and witness to environmental change conveyed their testimony of what was and is not any more. For me, the intimacy was real. One was lulled by the beauty of the place. It would have been easy to become complacent and just enjoy the moment. Until the message in the bottles spoke louder. One had to respond.

Today I’ll reflect on this. How can I make a difference?

May you, too, choose your path mindfully today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge: Glass

Australian icons …

I know they are not the farmer’s friend and they can cause chaos on country roads at dusk but to me, an unexpected encounter with a wild kangaroo is a delight.

I’m always careful early morning in Foxes Lair, Narrogin, in the south eastern Wheatbelt region of Western Australia. At dusk too, when I drive through. I usually see a kangaroo or even a small mob. This morning I was later than usual and got there around 7 am. The early morning walkers had already gone through the reserve except for one. I often see him with his dog and he’ll say a few polite words.

I inched my car through the narrow pathway heading to the car park when I heard a gentle rustle. A joey! DSCN8958
It hopped in front of the car and then went behind a small shrub, yet so close and within reach. Oh! that look! I melted just like that. DSCN8965
The joey hopped away, stopped and looked around as if searching DSCN8967
… this is a quintessential Australian bush scene. DSCN8969
Then I saw mother. I’ve only noticed the third kangaroo (to the left of centre) when I uploaded the pic. They blend in so well with the bush and being shy creatures they can slink away into the scrub very quickly. DSCN8977
All three crossed to the other side of the reserve. As the mother and joey hopped away, the male stood upright, his stance unmistakably, don’t mess with my family. I respected his guard and waited until they were out of sight. DSCN8992
When I could no longer see them, my gaze scanned the ground. Since being in the Murchison, I’m now interested in animal tracks, too. I don’t believe I have ever seen tracks made by a kangaroo tail, before. A first for me!

I’m home overnight and leave again tomorrow. As the year is winding down, I feel a bit fatigued. I know I’m not comfortable in my skin when I feel this way. Besides, today has not been a good day. What a difference 12 hours make. I drove home with roadworks and big farming machinery on the highway slowing my trip only to find a hotel has messed up my booking. I accept people make genuine mistakes. But when one tries to cover up with a lame excuse, that’s something I find hard to accept. I feel I let myself down by losing my cool. I wish I had taken a deep breath. What’s done can’t be undone. I’m expecting to get the worst room in the hotel when I get there!

But for now, I think I’ll just go and indulge in some comfort food … Vegemite on barely warm toast, a slather of butter and a cup of tea. I feel better already!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Tuesday – Butter

Horizon

On one of my previous trips to Geraldton I drove past the foreshore when I saw the new sculpture, Horizon, being put into place. I caught a glimpse of it through the pulleys, cranes and high vis clothing of workers and knew it promised to be something special. Of all the dozens of trips I’ve made to Geraldton, how fortuitous the timing.

My first trip post surgery was to Geraldton and I found myself drawn to the art. Being school holidays, there were holiday makers in town and people taking selfies, most drawn closer to the sphere. I stood away from it to experience it differently.
‘Horizon’ is a 1.5 metre globe by artist Lucy Humphrey. The water within turns the world upside down because of the way the light reflects off it.

There is, of course, the technicality of the idea inherent in this. But for me, I thought of the water within the sphere as the life within one. The idea that despite all, if one accesses it as intended, despite distortion, we can find a horizon. It is there, we just need to pause to let it define itself as a steadying point of reference.
In the weeks before and after the surgery it did feel like my world had been turned upside down. Living with palpable fear of the unknown is an unsettling experience. As I’ve mentioned before I am not church going but I did believe, my faith was my horizon. It kept me steady. It gave me perspective. It gave me pause. It gave me time to reflect how grateful I am of each moment that make up my day.

May you experience the joy of gratitude today. The joy in the ordinary that makes life, extraordinary.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Friday – Thankful

Under an outback sky

Sunrise, Midwest outback, Western Australia

I took this picture with my phone while my travelling companion was driving 110km/hour when we were in the outback. We were both subdued by the grandeur.

I’m home now and feeling subdued in a different way. In less than 5 hours I will be having surgery. I went to bed after 1 am in an attempt to prolong yesterday and avoid today. I focused all day on clearing my desk with some success and tried hard not to worry about the ‘what ifs’.

When troubled I often isolate myself, with camera of course. I seek what I know is in Nature. I see resilience and flexibility. Against all odds fragile plants survive and adapt. I see what I know to be true, all is well. It is a message that always comes through loud and strong. It is a message I’ll keep with me today.

May all be well in your world too.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

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