I had never thought to look for wild orchids in Helms Arboretum, Esperance. I usually park here for a few minutes when I visit the town to enjoy the parrots in the tall gum trees and to catch a few minutes alone. But having read a blog recommended by Tracy (Reflections of an Untidy Mind), I walked around instead of staying in my car.
Wild orchids love debris of leaves and fallen logs. So do snakes. Dugites look like fallen twigs. They are deadly and agile. Spring time is their time. Maybe that explains why I have never walked around here before. But I was prepared this time for bush walking and dressed in my best protective gear. I stepped off the plane to here.
To the novice, this is just rubble. Not me. My heart raced as I walked around. I anticipated seeing some wild orchids, just as the blog had published.
Soon I found the first orchids. 
Tiny bulbs. I had never seen orchid bulbs before.
The donkey orchids bloomed, stained like tortoise shells, in their hundreds.
Among the grass there were spider orchids.
Oh! so graceful in bud!
When blooming, they danced around, ta da ing their way across grass and rubble.
Their heart, exquisite.
Some bloomed in trios, each more graceful than their neighbour, in still posture.
I headed over to the Lookout where there is a steep gradient over granite rock to bush land below. I’ve found white sugar orchids here before, so I went looking. I wasn’t disappointed!
There were some that were stronger in colour. Each detail so perfect in dusk light.
Others, tinted white.
And others, deep in the bush, barely pink.
I have no other words to describe these orchids, other than ballerinas, because they dance so gracefully, in the breeze.
They lit up my heart, eyes and mind.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
PS Thank you Tracy!
The Lair was a florist shop. There are thousands of flowers and different species every few steps. Instead of rubber necking, I decided to explore one side of the track before exploring the other. I also decided to look for the smaller flowers that the eye can barely see.
I found tiny purple tassle flowers.
Blue lechenaultia blooming in some corners.
While others responded more slowly to sunlight. Blue and purple flowers are more difficult to see in dense bushland where white, pink and yellow are dominant colours in spring.
I spent a lot of time with the exquisitely tiny paper everlasting flowers. They are barely visible to the naked eye.
They love the sun and open at first rays before one’s eyes.
How cute is this?
I loved the white flowers too, interspersed among the pinks.
The tiny pink fairy orchids were scattered here and there.
The sundew were less frequently seen this month. I love these flowers.
The hakea tassle flowers were frosting large bushes, white with pink tips.
I found this beautiful white orchid, demurely blooming behind a log.
I thought this was moss but it looks like a succulent of some kind.
This was the only pimelea I found during my walk. Beautiful!
I heard a squawk above my head, only to find a young redcap parrot, all ruffled to greet the day.
While another young parrot groomed nearby.
On the ground, the red breasted robin kept me company.
Who doesn’t love a roaring, orange campfire burning in a ten gallon drum, like one I experienced at a cattle station in the Kimberley. Just add billy tea, cowboys and music, and I’m in a happy place again.
A blazing sunset at Cable Beach, Broome. One of my favourite beaches to visit.
The orange sands of Cemetery Beach, in Port Hedland, where we waited for turtles hatchlings, patiently. Yes, the beach is across from the town’s cemetery!
The beautiful ranges in the far north Kimberley that erupt from the ground. The light play is stunning at sunset or dawn.
The delicate wings of a dragonfly, etched in gold and orange.
The silent full moon that creeps up at night, unexpectedly.
The soft sage like eyes of an emu.
A lantern at dusk, that signals, this is home.
I walked along the shore early morning in Exmouth. I was the only one on the beach. I usually like it that way. Every few steps, I stopped and watched the sea trying to figure out whether the tide was coming in or going out.
I stood mesmerised by the grace of movement of this powerful ocean before me as it whooshed at my feet so elegantly.
Leaving behind a bounty of coral, shells and smooth pebbles.
Where the waves crashed, I found a sea urchin unexpectedly. 
And another left behind by the sea on the damp sand,
adjacent to seagull tracks.
Further up, there was another, still beautiful with spikes, left behind by time.
And even more beautiful, ‘de-spiked’.
Some with a hint of lavender.
Others buried in sand.
An artefact of the ocean, on land.
Dimpled.
Flaky.
Frilled.
Undressed.
Stripped.
Striped.
Painted.
Peeled.
Bejewelled.
The boot sits outside my study window. It reminds me life is fragile, and living in community makes one stronger. I take time to talk to strangers. They love to talk about their community, I’ve found. Like the old boot that no longer dances, but the story of its new life, can still make a heart sing. So I consciously and mindfully live life closer to the source and Source.
The clump of snowdrops at my doorstep has grown, having arrived three weeks later than they did last year. They seem to have survived another year of my old gardener’s enthusiasm for clearing flower beds and his failing eyesight!. I looked through dozens of flowers and found myself wanting to see what was under the hood. Now I know!
In the back garden the Cape Gooseberry is fruiting. I love this fruit and they hardly ever stay long enough on the bush without me picking off the lanterns while still green. I found this one on the ground, encased in gossamer, the detail, exquisite.
I know while bush walking, there are tiny flowers and foliage to search for and delight in. I also know some folks are intent on the walk itself, and miss what my eyes search for. I also know that’s their journey, not mine. So I let them walk by.
What I search for in bush country, are the tiny wild orchids that grow in impossible places. They remind me of a plaque I have in my study “Bloom where God plants you”.
This year the orchids are prolific. 
I love the detail of these delicate orchids that seem to bloom in harsh conditions, with attitude! If this is not a diva presence, I’m not sure what is!
And who can walk past the beautiful banksia and not stop to marvel at this wonderful plant. I love the symmetry of the prickly leaves too.
There are tassle plants growing everywhere and after uploading the photograph, I can see the details, hidden to the naked eye. I’ve come to learn through photography, beauty is often sensed and not always seen, until later.
These are mallee and gum trees. The mallee is like a gangly teenager, with out of proportion limbs and leaves. Or, so I thought. 
When I stood under it, I had to ask myself, how did I miss this before?
Yes spring is here. The turnip weed flowers are everywhere alongside roads and highways. The soft canola, is painted across the landscape in broad strokes of vivid yellow.
Even he knows the value of human touch.
The donkey orchid is prolific. This was was crusted with frost.
The shy cowslips that bloom in shady places.
To find a clump of them is special.
The clubbed spider orchid looks like a marionette.
The hooded jug orchids are beautiful in their own special way.
The tiny, tiny pink fairy orchid is in a class of its own.
Fifty kilometers from town, I noticed the sun was setting to my left and a huge moon rose from behind a grove of trees on my right. Startled by the silent luminosity, I had to stop to take a picture. The presence of it in the sky calmed my spirit. There was benevolence in the light. The only motorist on the road, I slowed down, no longer alone in poor weather.
Next morning I walked around the reserve. I’m usually alone here so I claim this as mine each time I visit! Winter has left it lush with bright yellow daubes of acacia everywhere.
A closer look at the spikes of flowers is worth the moment of quiet.
I stood in a ‘forest’ of banksia. These ones are quite different to anything I’ve seen elsewhere.
They are a beautiful tumeric colour with the tip, dipped in white. A ‘ta da’ moment comes to mind!
I’ve learned to look at my footsteps. No longer afraid of snakes (although I’m still snake aware), I’ve learnt to read the footprints of others. Parrots! So I look up.
This must have been a young one trying his best to make ‘parrot calls’, and not quite getting there. Yet!
The clumps of hibbertia are everywhere. They are bright in debris that gathers at the base of the gum trees.
I love this hakea that grows like giant kebabs with flowers blooming intermittently between spiky, sharp leaves.
Sometimes when fragile, we all need something strong and steady to lean on.
Even flowers unfurl in the faintest sunlight, so be generous with yours.
We all bloom at different times.
Simplicity is best.
A Shared Space 
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