It’s three weeks before spring. Like me, it feels like the Earth is anticipating this too. I feel like as joyous as a child on a spiral staircase, slipping and sliding and at times, careening, giddy with delight. I have planned three short breaks during early spring. I can hardly wait! As I countdown …
The canola fields are turning gold in the farming Midwest.
This picture captures the colours of the Midwest, so perfectly, from the ground. 
There are expanses of these low growing shrubs, encrusted with tiny flowers growing in the bush.
Beautiful spears of flowers everywhere one looks. 
In this land even a common weed looks beautiful!
There are huge swatches of paper everlasting flowers. Just breathtaking!
Seeing them up close, is seeing perfection.
These purple flowers are scattered among the pinks and whites.
In my garden the bees are busy.
And, roses continue to bloom.
The Earth is generous at this time of year, so I thought I’d share my bounty with you.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
These tiny everlastings were flowers within flowers. Thousands of these roadside.
I thought they were exquisite.
This was a tiny flower. The sand gives some perspective to the size.
Then there were succulents.
Were these past their prime? Still beautiful, I thought.
And carpets of these succulents, too, along the sand hills, ocean side.
The wattle has a distinctive perfume. Like, honey.
Vivid colours in harsh country.
There were thousands of these along the coast too.
This was one of my favourites. There were carpets of these, yes, acres of flowers, but this one caught my eye. It seemed to support a whole colony.
The sun broke through, as it always does, just beyond the Small Boat Harbour, (Carnarvon).
I delighted in the superb drama happening over this little town, quelling my fears of flying home through this and then to weather that was worse in Perth. The flight back was surprisingly calm in the small plane. But there was silence among the 34 passengers when the pilot announced we were going to land in poor weather in 60 km/hour high winds. I know what 28 km/hour winds during landing feels like in this plane. But 60! I closed my eyes and visualized all good things in my life. I found it was not a difficult thing to do. Half an hour from landing I clutched the seat tighter and tighter, while we bounced and rattled. We landed with an almighty thud and a deafening whoomf. Then came the short dash from aircraft to terminal. As soon as we stepped off the plane, it hailed. (Yes, it hurts when it hits one’s face!).
This is the main street. Yes, that’s it folks! Finding a parking spot is always a cinch!
I remember seeing this male zebra finch in the scrub while driving 80 km/hr. My ability to see birds in unexpected places, still amazes me! But like I’ve said before, if you look for it, you find it.
The skies here are awesome. During a storm or …
on a clear day, as Barbra sang, “you can see forever”.
I found this outside the public toilets at Pelican Point, a favourite place for locals to do a bit of kite surfing. It always makes me smile!
This sunset at Back Beach in Bunbury, did, however, salvage the day for me. It was cold. It was wild. It was magnificent.
The storm passed over night. The next day I went to Big Swamp after work. There seemed to be more swamp hens than I’ve ever seen before. I love them! Usually shy, this one was bold and sounded a raucous warning of my presence.
The path to the water is decked with winter colours.
The purple pea flower was prolific winding over shrubs and trees.
I’m not sure what this plant is called but it is unusual. Flowers grow on stalks that are on both sides of the leaf.
A musk duck trying to look cool while expelling a blast of bubbles when attempting to attract a mate!
Perth Airport, just before I flew out the other day. 
I’ve come to know the Midwest is gorgeous in winter. This hill is on approach to Geraldton.
If you wake early enough, you’ll find frost on desert flowers in the mining region.
And when I return home, it’s time to stop and smell the roses.
Sunrise, Esperance Bay, Western Australia
Sunset, The Fascine, Carnarvon, Western Australia
Full moon, Wheatbelt, Western Australia
A cloud of little corellas, home, Western Australia
I woke this morning in cold and frosty Narrogin. It was a challenge to get out of bed but I could not help but feel so blessed.
The sunrise was magnificent over the township. Snuggled deep under covers, I felt I was the only one watching the sun emerge.
I stayed warm in bed, until past sunrise. I knew it was too cold, even for birds.
I then set off to Foxes Lair, took a deep breath while taking off my sunglasses and settled down to the big experience of the ‘here and now’.
I was there with the usual early morning company.
It was interesting to see the change of seasons reflected in nature. The bush is just starting to burst into colour, with striking fronds of flowers.
A little pink, too, here and there.
And, tiny flowers of ground cover.
The dryandra, beautiful but prickly, everywhere.
The honey eaters love this plant. Bees, too, but they were not buzzing today. Perhaps, too cold this morning for them.
The kookaburra emerged from a hole in the tree. It started to chortle. It sounded like a kettle coming up to the boil, before it reached the crescendo that is so typical of its call.
And when it stopped, it looked straight down at me!
The cottage balcony faced forest. This was the view I woke to each day. The sun streamed in through mist. Kookaburras laughed and chortled. A smile travelled across my face, from ear to ear, and warmed me on the inside.
Each morning I rugged up warm and headed out to explore with a grateful heart that delighted in all that I saw.
The pink camellias took my breath away. Large as a man’s palm.
Then there were double camellias. The owner had left several in the cottage for me. Gorgeous!
I loved the white flowers, just as much.
The sunny jonquils bloomed despite the frost.
The white ones shimmered, too.
A clump of these, added colour.
Everywhere I looked, there was beautiful, delicate wattle, signalling winter.
I walked along country roads. Contented. At peace. Empowered. I have choice. This realisation, is freedom.
The 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.
I 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. 
In the silence, the oneness with nature, was an embrace like no other. 
We 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.
A 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’ve criss-crossed the Wheatbelt, a region of some 155,000 sq km. I’ve been further north east and further east of east, than before. The resilience of folks in farming communities is something that strikes me each time I visit. It must be difficult under circumstances where the pastures are green with rain and then 50 kilometres down the down, they are still waiting for it. People think in terms of community. What can they do, to make a difference. They are quick to minimize the role they play, often with a matter of fact, “Well! that’s what one does!”
Then there was the Kimberley region. Beautiful Kimberley, an area that covers some 422,000 sq km of ruggedness. Broome, is a favourite town but there’s a special place in my heart for Kununurra, a place I want to visit again on holiday. I’ve experienced joy in this town in the company of birds and the excitement of spotting my first freshwater crocodile. There are gorges and ruggedness to explore, and when standing still, blue dragonflies to observe.
I’ve visited the Midwest more frequently than I have ever done in previous years. It is larger area than the Kimberley at 472,000 plus square kilometers. The stunning landscape of the Coral Coast is memorable.
The mining region of the Pilbara, in the heart of Western Australia cover over 500,000 square kilometers. It is harsh, hot, and humbling country. Oh! how I love that red dust! Driving across it in summer was a highlight for me.
And who can forget the South West, nearly 24,000 sq km of beautiful food, wine, trails, forests and coastline.
Last but not least, the Goldfields Esperance region, covers over 770,000 sq km. Esperance is where I spend three consecutive nights each month, so naturally, it is my home away from home.
Curiosity
A Shared Space 
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