Cape Gooseberry, yet to fruit in my garden.
Whitebreasted woodswallows, in the Kimberley region. Keeping together.
Love lines in the sand, Carnarvon, Western Australia
Solo mother, doing it for herself.
Camel lines on Cable Beach, Broome, Western Australia.
Hurried post. Hope you enjoy!
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Judy Dykstra-Brown’s Photo Challenge: All Lined Up
I’ve been doing some reading on the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi who espoused the psychological theory of ‘flow’. Much like mindfulness, flow is about being fully present in the moment. It appeals to me more than mindfulness. Flow is about generating a spark. It ignites. In a moment of inaction, it generates movement, it is fluid. One becomes all. All becomes one. All falls away. There is no ego in that moment.
Photography does this for me.
I need moments like this every day. To me, they are as vital as breath.
I need big skies over me. I am humbled and in awe of this.
To be one with this leaves me wordless.
There are times I am so still, I forget to exhale.
The best part is when what I’m experiencing in the moment, is visible to someone else who has seen it many times but never experienced it. It is a moment of intimacy, like no other. It ignites.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RDP : Tuesday – Spark
The sand was beige
much like life
when a sunset
became a new day
where we stood,
our feet immersed in gold.
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Thursday: Regenerate
I hear your hymn,
nuzzle in
feast on me,
this velvet hour.
In response to Word of the Day Challenge: Velvet
Sturt Desert Pea, Pilbara (mining) region, Western Australia
Red rimmed
eye to eye, we bloom
in ravaged earth
that bleeds in
boom or bust.
a dawn bird
In response to Pix and A Word Challenge: Red #187
Nature’s depression
that confusion and distortion
descends by stealth at night
sometimes, preceded by warning
take heed, nothing will be familiar
Be wary,
The monochrome of grey
Where all is same but isn’t
Will become the norm
Ignore at your peril
which I did.
It took a brighter sun to break through
It warmed the earth where I stood
in bare feet or in boots
as the fog lifted,
I closed my eyes so I could see
and found,
in those dark days of invisibility
the trees continued to breathe for me.
a dawn bird
In response to Word of the Day Challenge: Fog
Wyalup Rocks, Bunbury, Western Australia
Still standing
leaning
into the wind
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Monday: Blustery
He emerged
from the underground
with limbs brown as toast
as warm, too
and a tweet so sweet
to dine alone
yet, together
head deep in flower.
a dawn bird
I could not wait to drive out of the city yesterday and left Perth around 3 pm. Much to my dismay construction has devoured a portion of the road I usually take to the highway and I spent half an hour travelling through the detour. I finally got back on the highway and caught slow traffic. The drive at dusk kept me alert but what was amazing was the skyline. The area had controlled burning earlier in the day and the colours across the horizon was nothing I’ve seen before. There were heavy low clouds in colours of mauve, taupe, lavender, pink, orange, and umber even. As it was getting darker by the minute I could not stop for photographs and night came too suddenly. I started to get anxious enough to turn off the music and focus on my driving. Albany Highway is not a road I enjoy driving. It is littered with roadside crosses, a sombre reminder of the dangers of a narrow, winding road. I was hoping roadworks at the entry to the small farming town of Williams had been cleared but no, the roads are still ripped up. I drove in cautiously and then had another 30 kms or so of dark road flanked by farms before I got to my destination. I was so tense by the time I got to my hotel. I had a shower and went to bed without dinner and slept fitfully. 
The sunrise was glorious. I sipped coffee while tucked in bed and watched the sun melt the meringue mist that hung over the town. I still felt exhausted and unwell and wondered how I was going to function in a day that was fully booked. Then I remembered reading an article on a flight about ‘forest bathing’, a Japanese therapy, Shinrin-yoku, that developed in the 1980s when people were dying from working too hard. The concept is simple as it is complex. Essentially one is among trees, among nature, in a mindful way. I decided to try it. It was cold this morning so I dressed in layers and headed to Foxes Lair.
The reserve is lush in winter green. It was quiet and I was the only one walking around. My steps were slow. My movements slower. I took it all in. The kookaburras chortle grew more distant as I walked away from it. The parrots flew in and when they left, the honeyeaters and silvereye swarmed high above my head. I wanted to do nothing but just absorb the energy of the moment. I walked around for half an hour. I was rejuvenated and renewed. I returned to my hotel, completed half a report and then headed to work.
I have worked a whole day with barely a break and completed the report I started this morning. I cannot believe it was only yesterday morning I felt so depleted of energy,
Is there some truth in the benefits of Shinrin-yoku? All I can say, if you experience a flat spot, find a verdant corner somewhere and let your body drink it in, sip by delicate sip. I’d be interested to hear if it had the same positive impact on you as it had on me.
In response to RDP – Monday: Verdant
Geographe Bay, Busselton, Western Australia May 2019
Clouds, like memories
drift
within reach.
a dawn bird
Word of the Day Challenge: Cloudy
You travel light
Not a care in the world
No baggage dragged around
Or dumped at my front door
No ego, no superego,
no library in your vocabulary
No raised, quizzical eyebrow
Your curiosity is naïve
You don’t complicate life
With judgements and a critical eye
I like where you came from
And where you’ve been
Your plans don’t go beyond the now
You have no idea where you are going
Why would you, you question me
Because time stands still here,
where you are happiest
When you’re with me.
a dawn bird
In response to RDP Friday: Eyebrow
Rain, like tears
nectar
uncorked.
a dawn bird
As the tide left shore
searching for another
in the ebb and flow
ear to earth
we found a heartbeat
that was ours
a dawn bird
I find it ironic at a time when I have the means to enjoy the finer things in life, the simple things in nature give me the most pleasure. Gone are the high heels! I’m stepping into life in boots or barefeet!
I love walking along Geographe Bay in Busselton, in the South West of Western Australia. The clouds are always a treat to observe early morning. The jetty curves into the Bay for nearly two kilometers and is a great walk at sunset.
I enjoy my lunch break in the Arboretum in Kalgoorlie where boughs of gum flowers hang above my car. I’m usually alone here with the only sounds being the buzz of bees and birdsong. I love the solitude of an hour in a crowded day.
I love the Wheatbelt in winter. The fog across the paddocks in Merredin makes everything glow.
And the primary colours in Broome, north of Perth, where the sea is bluer than the sky.
I visited this place two years ago. It is a boab grove in open landscape at a cattle station called Diggers Rest not far from Wyndham. We enjoyed a champagne sunset here. It was magical!
I also love finding boab trees embossed on the silver sands of Cable Beach, Broome.
And the isolation found on Cable Beach, a beach that is 22 kms long. 
Following the flower like pattern of seagull footprints.
And, of course, there is nothing money could buy that would replicate the feeling of looking into the eyes of a joey.
Yes it takes money to get to these places but once there, everything else is free. Seeking these moments has become an insatiable passion and one that satisfies me on a spiritual level, too.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to Word of the Day Challenge: Money
A Shared Space 
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