It’s time …


The business is now closed and the new management appear to be doing well as a cafe, just before you hit Bunbury.  I can’t seem to bring myself to visit because the previous shop was one I loved to visit.  It was almost like a big shed with home made produce, local fruit and vegetables and a great place to stop and chat to the staff, usually, older women, they always had a story to share.  I loved buying a particular brand of spicy tomato sauce here that was made by some local woman.  A few years ago when I stopped, to my dismay I found it was their last week.  I was devastated.  With two new service stations before this stop, the business was suffering.  The elderly owner had passed away and his wife was trying to keep the business going.  I wondered what would happen to those older women who always had time to chat.

The business included an emu farm and they were selling the last of the emu eggs.  I bought six and they sit on a side cabinet until Easter morning, then they are the centre piece on my dining table.  They remind me of the shop and it’s a lovely, warm memory.  I loved doing the Easter egg thing with my kids when they were younger but now they are health conscious young adults and don’t eat a lot of processed foods.  So it’s only emu eggs now.

Eggs represent new life.  New beginnings.  A symbol of celebration.  See an egg shell in the bush and it makes one curious.  (Also wary!  Snakes!).

This year Easter brings new meaning.  I am renewed and on a new journey.  I have been caring for my well being.  I feel good!  I feel I have something to offer someone else, other than in my professional life.  The shell has broken.  I’m ready to emerge.  Faltering, for sure, but on my feet and taking steps in the right direction.  Isn’t that eggscellent!  (Sorry, couldn’t resist!).

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

  1. In response to RDP – Saturday:  egg

Moving on

It’s eighteen years and a day
My grief has come of age
So the boxes are packed
I’m giving your clothes away

The shirt I wore at dawn
Those grey socks kept my feet warm
your jacket is empty
the sleeves, too, of hugs.

Your touch, your taste is elusive
your absence takes up less space
I no longer lie in bed and wait
you nudging at my ribs
whispering, Hey! You awake?

It’s eighteen years and a day
yes, my grief has come of age
In that darkest space there is a celebration
as angel wings sprout
and thoughts of you lift me up

How proud you would have been
Against all odds,
I have lived to say
your memory brings joy as always
but you should also know, there are nights
Oh! how I wish you were with me again.

a dawn bird

The Goodbye

via Daily Prompt: Suddenly

DSCN8248.jpg“She refused to say goodbye, It had a finality. A brutality. It was a point of reference. It had the power to define what was before it and all that came after. So she found a way to say goodbye, framed within a eulogy to friendship. After all, memories are meant to keep one warm, make one smile and soften the ragged edges. Or do they?

Suddenly, the uncertainty caught her off guard. She shivered. Facing the monstrous truth, her face crumbled.

She was child again.”

The above is an excerpt I wrote during an impromptu exercise.  It had special relevance to a moment in my life.  (I now realise, when put into perspective, yes, a moment of one’s life).

Since that point of reference, the sentiments in the excerpt  reflect my feelings at sunset each day. It’s an ambivalent moment for me.

Like a child with a toy, I’m always reluctant to let go, even though I know dawn will start the cycle again.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird