A walk on the wild side

I’ve returned from a trip to the outback.  I visited places I’ve never been to before.  I had planned to go another 300 plus kms further but due to heavy rain, the unsealed roads were closed.  I plan to go again in a few months when the road conditions are better.  This item on the bucket list has not been crossed off.  Yet.

The days were warm in gold mining country, the nights freezing cold.  This region was rich in diversity and bustling during the gold rush of the late 1800s.  I cannot imagine how folks got out here in those days.  It is remote and unforgiving country.  It took us 6.5 hours of hard driving on sealed roads to get here.  We had anticipated another 4 hours of driving on unsealed roads.  But it was not to be this time.DSCN7627.jpgThe wedgetail eagles were everywhere.  This was a juvenile.  The adult wing tip span can be up to 9 ft across.  They are magnificent in flight.DSCN7629.jpgI left the grey and wet of winter in Perth, to winter in the outback.  Warm 18 degrees celsius by day and a brrrr 2 degrees at night.  The hospitality at one hotel was interesting.  “Dinner is from 6-7 pm.  Come early so we can go home early!” was a no-fuss welcome.  Despite this, the dinner was delicious.  DSCN7662.jpgIn the silence, the oneness with nature, was an embrace like no other.  DSCN7694.jpgWe enjoyed the huge vistas.  We explored and wandered over rocks and gullies.  We stumbled upon a field of white quartz.  It looked like water had gone through this part with some force.  It was stunning.DSCN7711.jpgA fuzzy mauve stain in the red dirt caught my eye from across the road.  I walked up to it and found the most exquisite, tiny flowers growing in the harshest country.

I took a walk on the wild side.  I didn’t do everything I set out to do but I did venture outside my comfort zone.  There’s unfinished business that needs tidying up.  Roll on, October!

Until then

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

 

 

Marilyn

via Daily Prompt: Stifle

I heard her before I saw her.  I had no idea what the sound was until later.  She was grooming her quills with big sweeping strokes in the dead of night.

Early morning I stepped outside my hut to a soft sunrise in harsh Kimberley country.  She was magnificent!  Instinctively, she stopped.  An icon in iconic country.  I took her picture.

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I learn her name over a campfire breakfast.  I had to stifle my grin.  Marilyn!

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Some may regard it as an incongruous name for this big flightless bird. But, she is a star. She’s equally beautiful, standing tall on big feet or resting among rocks.

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The most graceful thing about her is her walk.  Slow, rhythmic with a deliberate sway that comes from being bottom heavy.

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Transported to that moment, the sound of her strides my lullaby.

Until next time,

As always,

a dawn bird