Autumn Song

This is my first contribution to Fandango’s Friday Flashback.  I like the idea of going back and reflecting on what one has written.

Being a leap year this year, tomorrow is the last day of summer.

It will be autumn on the 1st of March in the Southern Hemisphere.  Last year I wrote this poem in anticipation of it.

Autumn Song

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It was summer twenty four hours ago
my skin is still burnished brown
the dawn sun ignites a signal lamp
and spells in code,
slow down.

My girth is too wide for embrace
but where my wisdom is kept
I am matriarch
alive among sapling and dead wood
I am old, as I am young again

Come closer, yes, closer
lean in
hear my autumn song.

a dawn bird

 

In response to Fandango’s Friday Flashback – February 28

 

Forever autumn

DSCN9211We are mid-way into autumn in the Southern Hemisphere.  There’s a chill in the air in the evenings and early mornings.  There’s a need to seek warmth in another or in memories.  It made me reflect on my life journey, this time, my professional journey.

I have worked with people of all ages.  There is a certain joy that comes from working with little children and promoting joy in parenting and development.  I have worked with troubled teens with behaviours at the pointy end of the pointy end.  Challenging as it was being on 24 hour roster, I worked with the program for six years.  I now work mostly with children and families and as a consultant to my teams.  But, the yearning to work with older adults is always there.

I once worked in a hospital setting where the patients were mostly elderly.  It was confronting work.  There by the grace of God, go I, crossed my mind frequently.  I would see people who worked hard all their life and then struck down with debilitating illness and regret they did not seize the day before this.  The job came about in the most extraordinary circumstances and it was my first foray into a medical setting.  I firmly believe that job changed my perspective on life.  The job was a gift I needed at that time.  Once exposed to the reality of other people’s regret, I did not want to waste a moment of my life anymore.

In Bunbury I woke early and would head to Big Swamp.  I fell in love with the wetlands.  I could no longer go to work without spending just a few minutes here.  I’d head to beaches and bush land every single day.  I started to view the world and my circumstances in a different way.  I started to view myself as a grounded optimist.  All because I found the best healing in nature and where I do my reflections.

Everything just fell away when I would walk silently in the bush or by shore.  The question I would ask myself is, if I knew it was the last five minutes of my life, what would I do?  I found I would have no regrets.  I have loved and have been loved.  I have children that I yearned for since early childhood who are young adults I am so proud of.  I have been able to provide for my family.  Who could ask for more?

So this morning I work up happy.  The chill in the air reminded me, autumn is a time of change, a time for slowing down, a time when nature reminds us that while youth is crisp and forward thinking, age has its advantages, too.  The ‘wrinkles’ of the yesterdays are a comfortable, soft place to land.  The vibrancy of ‘the now’ has the power to make one’s eyes glisten and also glow.  There is freedom in making tomorrow whatever we want it to be, as one steps out lightly on ‘happy feet’.

For me, in this month of birthday, there is also comfort in the knowledge, although a time of profound change, from now on, as I settle deeper into my nut brown skin, I know, I am in a wonderful place, I am in the space of forever autumn.  A space of change.  A space of growth.  A space of acceptance.  And, there’s no other space I’d rather be.

May you, too, find your happy space today and arrive on happy feet.

Until next time

As always

In response to RDP Monday: Foray

Autumn in the Wheatbelt

I decided to leave a bit earlier for Merredin, hoping to get there before dark but, roadworks and a big convoy of road trains for part of the journey slowed me down considerably.  I am so done with roadworks!

It struck me yesterday how nervous I used to be overtaking one of those big trucks even when there was an overtaking lane.  I would never overtake on a country road at any other time.  I’ve learnt to trust these drivers.  They know they hold up traffic and help out other motorists.  Seated high in their rigs they have a good view what’s in the distance.  I’ve learnt their helpful signals, two clicks of an indicator means pass or clicks on the opposite side, means get back in lane.  If there’s no traffic a thank you wave gets a quick high beam.  Communication between strangers who will never meet.DSCN9007.jpgFor the stretch between Cunderdin and Kellerberrin there was just one truck ahead of me. The sun was seated at the horizon.  It was going to be dark soon.  I just had to stop and take a picture.  I love those skies in the Wheatbelt!DSCN9011
I spent a few moments resting.  It was peaceful with sheep in the paddock.  With occasional traffic, it was the silence of solitude that I love so much.

My visit went well.  I’ve been asked to do another talk in six months, so I guess that went well too.

I decided to come home after work instead of spending another night there.  It’s a 3.5 hour journey and I knew it would be dark for some of the way but I would be closer to the city and street lights.  As luck would have it I got delayed at work, and I had already checked out.  I had no option but drive home.  By the time I got to Kellerberrin, there was haze from burn off and dust from winds.  Visibility was poor but the sunset was spectacular.  A massive blood red sun that seemed to get bigger as it slipped from view.  I just could not find a safe enough spot to take a picture so I just experienced the moment instead.

Although the weather has been warmer for autumn, the landscape is welcoming a cooler change around the Wheatbelt.DSCN8987.jpg
There are chocolate shards peeling off gum trees in Narrogin.
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This trunk was so tactile.  You could feel the life of this big tree in every ripple and indentation.  It made me think, one can never say they are alone when they are with trees.  They are a silent presence in my moments of solitude.  They are a perfect partner for me!DSCN8983.jpg
The fallen gum nuts created moments of still life photography of what once was, and still is, beautiful.  They made me watch my footsteps and walk mindfully.  A teaching moment here, too.DSCN9017.jpg
Outside my chalet window, the textures and colours of a young tree, distracted me.  Who could blame me?

I’m home where I’m also happy.  The major renovations are done.  I need to get the painting sorted.  The colours will come from nature’s palette.  I’m starting to embrace this house as my home.  I can envisage what I want with clarity.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

Autumn Song

DSCN7672.jpg

It was summer twenty four hours ago
my skin is still burnished brown
the dawn sun ignites a signal lamp
and spells in code,
slow down.

My girth is too wide for embrace
but where my wisdom is kept
I am matriarch
alive among sapling and dead wood
I am old, as I am young again

Come closer, yes, closer
lean in
hear my autumn song.

a dawn bird

(In response to the RDP word, diametric)

Autumn

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A leaf fell from the tree,

it floated from the top

And landed at my feet

It was shaped like my heart

Its veins were gold, like memories

That sparkle in the morning light

And through the glint, I glimpsed

A promise of tomorrow

That follows the darkest night.

The leaf lay there, like a moment in time

And, although vivid

It was no longer green and new

I smiled as I leaned down for it

Like me, it was supple, not crushed

And like me, it danced

in the crosswinds that blew.

As I said goodbye to summer

A gentle breeze lifted the leaf

Off my hand and into the sky

And in that silent space

It drifted free

Just like me

Under a watchful, blue eye.

a dawn bird

Almost autumn ..

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It’s the first day of autumn tomorrow in the Southern Hemisphere.  The days are getting shorter.  I wake to dark.  The early light is softer.  The shadows longer, before they take shape.  Yes, autumn is Nature’s zen time.  A time to let things fall away.

I’m home for a few days enjoying the simple things that life offers before I leave home again.

I’ve had time for a leisurely stroll through markets enjoying the mindfulness of the taste, feel and smell of fresh produce.  Summer lingered in the scent of peaches.  The green herbs still have their zest.  I’ve had time to query when did we change our habits to have a wall of different milks to choose?  Do we really need the mega bulk stores that promote savings if you buy more.  Really?!  I’ve found the only savings I make, is when I don’t buy anything at all.

I’ve had time to take a break and enjoy lunch with my son.  Listening to him talk about his university studies with enthusiasm, a parent could not ask for more.  I’m looking forward to a high tea with his fiancee and my daughter.  Amid girlish giggles, we have been practising holding out our pinky finger, delicately.

I’m enjoying a few days of simple living.  Taking time to talk to neighbours about this and that and nothing at all.  The veggie man in the supermarket, did not avoid me.  I had given him a piece of my mind a while back when I wanted some garlic and found they were labelled “Produce of Mexico” and “Produce of Peru”.  I queried why on earth, when we have market gardeners just down the road.  He proudly showed me the local produce section, yes, it’s tucked away in a corner and more expensive.  The law of supply and demand.

I’ve had time to enjoy roasting tomatoes in garlic and basil, to store in olive oil for a pasta meal, or for a quick hot soup.  I love the vibrancy of the colour and taste.  With crusty bread, it is one of my favourite meals.

When I lived in Canada, autumn was my favourite time of year.  I loved the changing of colours that we rarely find here.

Autumn in Western Australia has a chill to it.  Perhaps, we feel it more acutely because it’s the sudden shift in temperature from the intense summer, to a few degrees cooler.  I’ve come to embrace this.  I know as winter approaches, there will be pots of spicy goulash or beautiful stew to bring the family together.

Perhaps it is an artefact of aging that one comes to appreciate the simple things later in life.  The only regret I have, is not knowing how to appreciate an uncomplicated life, in my youth.

Until autumn

As always

a dawn bird