Tag: RDP

What a year!

RDP – Monday -Bar

The year started like every other year. I was expecting life to set the bar no higher or lower than it has, over the past decade. I hurtled towards the familiar landscapes I’ve travelled across so frequently. I thought I had it all. Unknown to me, the Universe had other ideas.

First a family member became gravely ill and spent two months in intensive care. They have now recovered to a life that they had before illness. That, itself, is a miracle.

Reeling from this distress, I lost two-thirds of my business due to the vagaries that prevail in my field of work. I curled up into a ball …. for one night …. and, entirely unsolicited, was offered an even better and more lucrative contract the very next day. So the last few months have been hectic and kept me away from the blog as I wind up some of my work allowing me to focus on the contract I’m enjoying. To say I wake with a smile each morning is an understatement. I am in a happy space as I know within each loss, is a hidden unexpected gain.

Some of my regular work in the Goldfields continues. My hotel is in the middle of town and I, coffee in hand, never tire of the vista of beautiful old architecture each month.

I found this year a thunderstorm in the Goldfields is worth experiencing. It is all flash, thunderous noise and torrential warm rain. Quite breathtaking!

There was gold in other places too. I managed a trip to Narrogin in spring and found clumps of hibbertia hemignosta everywhere in Foxes Lair.

Then there was that amazing trip to Kalbarri in the north, where a few moments felt like a golden hour.

Flying over the pink lake of Port Gregory in the north on the way to Carnarvon, a destination I never reached but did experience three failed attempts of the small plane trying to land in poor weather, before returning home again. I have no memory of the journey home!

Flying over Shark Bay is always a treat! What’s not to love looking at this view on my way to work. It’s better than sitting in grid locked city traffic!

I spent a weekend in Margaret River without WIFI. The lack of intrusion from the outside world felt like another era in time. I have no idea what these flowers are but they were growing in huge bunches on tall trees. The birds loved them!

In spring Foxes Lair put up the usual show of wild flowers. I thought this jug orchid, drenched in morning dew, was gorgeous.

As were the tiny wild donkey orchids.

I’ve driven to Esperance three times in 12 years. It is a long drive of several hours. I tend to sleep overnight in Narrogin as the roads to Esperance are long and lonely. Fatigue is a dangerous companion. This place is a favourite stop in Ravensthorpe, a small town where this tiny shop does a roaring trade from tourists passing by. It sells all kinds of lollies (candy), ice creams, milk shakes and, of course, hot dogs. I love the Motown music she plays on repeat and it is the only place I buy a hot dog because it just seems the right place to eat one!

This tiny Mexican restaurant is in the north. It was several kms out of the town I was staying and there were no street lights on the way there. Ordinarily I would have returned back to the hotel as I had no idea where I was headed in the dark, but, much like falling in love, found it was worth the journey.

We have had a few days of fierce bushfires in the north, the smoke muting the sun during the day. I went outdoors at dusk to bring in the laundry and found this spectacular double rainbow over my backyard.

Although it has been a year of endings and beginnings, it is also a year when I have been scared out of my wits during flights and it is helping me to rethink some of my travel. Landing in Perth in a big plane from a mining town, I braced myself by holding on to the seat in front expecting the jarring of the tyres on tarmac when suddenly we were scooped up into the air again. There was no announcement, just silence while the plane circled for close to half an hour, over the ocean. People were murmuring waiting to hear the pilot speak and it seemed forever when he announced due to wind shear he could not land. Of all that I have experienced, that is one experience I rather not have again.

So what have I learned this year?

I’ve learnt to trust and it has strengthened my faith, not by doing more, but doing less. I’ve actively practiced acceptance and detachment in my everyday life (I had no other option, but to). And by doing so, found a new lease on life and an enormous sense of peace. Each day I make a concerted attempt at decluttering my life and environment. It is no longer a chore but something I look forward to every day. I buy only what I need. I only keep what I use. I honour the space I live in. I honour the space where my thoughts are kept. I honour the life I have been given.

I’ve arrived at this space because I found Nature is a healer and a teacher. We need to honour that.

So my wish for you is a simple one. Let Nature nurture your spirit. It is more powerful and richer, than any human headline.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

A white Christmas … in the outback!

RDP: Tuesday – Tradition

Exmouth, Western Australia

In my early childhood years in India we experienced Christmas as it was celebrated from 1 December onwards. Everyday there would be cooking and baking activity with a range of sweets, biscuits and cakes being made for distribution to all in the neighbourhood, regardless of their faith beliefs and to share with visitors. The treats would be plenty enough to last between Christmas Day and the Feast of Epiphany in January. The theme of sharing was strong. Gifts were rarely exchanged, if at all, but visitors could be sure of one thing, there would always be plenty of food.

I don’t recall Christmas trees in homes or shops. Nor were there Nativity scenes in homes but there was always one in the church. I loved dolls and oh! how I longed to cuddle ‘baby Jesus’ in my arms, but reverence demanded I touch the statue’s feet gently, which I did under my mother’s stern “Don’t you dare!” gaze!

Sadly, my tradition has evolved. From October I’m on the lookout for more Christmas ornaments. Over the years my Christmas tree has become too ornate. I love buying glittering glass ornaments and have too many! I have some that I bought at Harrods and Selfridges in London in the 80s! I can’t bear to part with even one. Each year I add only one new ornament to the collection with a special thought given to the one I buy. This year I was stopped in my tracks. Literally.

The picture above was taken between the township of Exmouth and the airport. It is a remote area. I’m not sure whether the Nativity scene belonged to the nearby farm or someone just decided to place it there. On a fiercely hot day it spoke to me. Driving at 80 kms/hour, I slowed down, turned my car around and reflected. No glitter or gaudy buntings in sight. Just the bare simple message of simplicity, in white cardboard. This, too, is Christmas.

Whatever your beliefs, my wish for you is to be surrounded by the love and laughter of your family and friends on Christmas Day. And, may the Christmas Star shine brightly and lead them to you.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Home, the sanctuary

Somewhere in the Midwest

Life has resumed, as I knew it once, or almost as. And if the social and travel restrictions have had an impact on me, it has only intensified my desire to travel and work. But there has been a shift.

As a child, as young as six, I knew I wanted to break free of cultural expectations imposed on me. I wanted that open road ahead of me where I made my own choices. That feeling is still fresh and alive. But it came at a cost. As I filled in my life with work and my own choices, it left little space for meaningful relationships. I regarded them as a roadblock to where I wanted to be, of course, despite the destination being unknown.

For nearly seven years I have lived out of a suitcase because of frequent travel and returning to a house that has been under constant renovation. Now I can see the end in sight. I have many people who have contributed to this and in many ways have rescued me from myself on some level. My lovely old builder who had my house keys for years and worked to my schedule and budget with utmost patience. The handyman who refuses to accept his fee whenever he visits and gives me a generous discount despite my protests. Oh! how he loves to tell me about his life and give me tips on Italian recipes and, being a former butcher, the best cuts of meat to buy! Then there’s the painter with the most amazing eye for detail and a passion for golf. Last week he left a speck of blood near the ceiling (some 15 ft high) but was determined to fix it. With the scaffolding gone, he left me holding the ladder while he hyperventilated his way to the top! Now the internal painting is nearly completed and the house indoors is taking shape. To live comfortably, I am culling ruthlessly. Keeping stuff for sentimental reasons is perhaps a developmental phase. We reach a certain point in our lives when discarding is healthy. With fewer memories to hoard, I find myself creating new spaces to live in. Life, not space, has become a sanctuary.

To have someone enter my chosen lifestyle not to take up space, but to create space for me, is a sense of elation I have not experienced in years. This morning I woke to a darkened home. Outside there was a patch of moonshine highlighting the beginnings of the ‘writing space’. A gift I will treasure because the creativity and thought that went into this. Labelling that area of the garden as my ‘writing space’ and creating it with that purpose in mind is perceptive and thoughtful. The ‘creator’ would have known I am not someone who relaxes with a magazine. I sit and write.

That open road now has a destination. I will no longer return to my house after each trip. I will return home.

May you find your journey today leads to your home of choice.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Tuesday – Rescue

Heart Mosiac

At that fluid edge
I collect pieces
chips, fragments, remnants
insert randomly
create storm cloud pathways
a mosiac, familiar to me
The way forward
is the way back
diverting, mending
unpicking threads of thoughts
that bind tightly
loosening, discarding
letting go,
letting in
forging the path ahead
where I want to be
with clarity.

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Saturday – The Path Ahead

When fuses are lit …

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Full moon, Diggers Rest, Wyndham, Western Australia

Sexual attraction, that indefinable energy, that surfaces silently and generates a force of its own, and much like the moon, has the power to move oceans.

Does one normalize this clinically as a biological instinct?

Or does romanticize this as an unmissable magic carpet ride?

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Friday – Normal

See, with me

I’m not sure whether it is the case what the heart feels, the eye sees or vice versa.  Both are applicable to my experience of photography.  With camera in hand my world took on new meaning.  Solitary in my pursuits, it drew others in.  Nothing grounds me as much as the focus on photographing something that catches my eye.  When I see something I get a visceral response and photographing it just intensifies the experience of the moment.DSCN5254
West Beach, Esperance, Western Australia
The young fearless surfers at West Beach are a delight to photograph and one of my favourite places to visit in Esperance.  I love reflecting how analogous surfing is to life’s journey – the waiting, the patience, the moment of poise when you stand firm on fluid ground and let the wave bring you to shore.  And then … you go out to experience the same again.DSCN8464
Grevillea
One of my favourite native shrubs is grevillea.  The birds love it too.  To my eye they are perfection, each loop, part of the whole.DSCN9085Pelicans capture my heart as much as sea gulls.  Large and ungainly, I love how pelicans descend on water, with the grace of a perfect flight landing.DSCN8526
Town Beach, Exmouth Gulf, Western Australia
When I retire I want just enough money to enable me to travel to this beach on a regular basis.  Watching hues tint the sky, at sunrise or sunset, is like watching an artist at work.DSCN8709
Paraburdoo, Pilbara mining region, Western Australia
I love the mining regions of Western Australia.  The earth is a rich red, contrasting pale spinifex, ranges and the awesome landscape that demands one is still in it’s presence.thumb_IMG_5421_1024
My front garden is laden with roses at certain times of the year and at other times, there are roses.  After a rain shower, oh, the perfume!thumb_IMG_3600_1024
I use this cape gooseberry encased in the filigree paper like lantern as part of my meditation.  When I want to extinguish an undesired behaviour, I envisage new pathways emerging in the delicacy of my brain.thumb_IMG_3593_1024
Who can resist the attraction of unconditional love?  Not me!  This is the day Kovu became part of my son’s family and like a doting grandpawrent, I was there to document family history 🙂

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Wednesday – Visual

With my game face on …

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Ivanhoe Crossing, Kununurra, Kimberley region, Western Australia

The Ord River, lifeline of the fruit growing region in Kununurra where there are km after km of mango groves, is magnificent in full flow.  As I drove up here, some 8-10 kms out of Kununurra, I could hear the water but was unprepared to see the force of it.  There is a curved sealed low bridge road that one can drive across the river when it is not flooded and some do attempt to drive across when it is.  I’ve also seen folks fishing, standing in these waters where there are saltwater crocodiles.  On one trip there was a couple knee deep standing on the road and fishing off it.  He left his partner in the middle and walked toward us.  I asked him if he was local, he said no so we warned him about the crocs.  He glanced around and said, “haven’t seen any today”.  Such stupidity is breathtaking.  A few minutes later a couple of rangers came up to the site and directed the couple to another safer fishing spot.  The rangers just shook their heads while these folks packed up.  I’m not sure whether their casual attitude was stupidity or bravado.  I’ve photographed crocodiles in a croc park and they are lightening quick.  I managed to get some beautiful shots only because I was startled!

I’ve walked along here a few times and have been here on my own.  I just love it.  The birdlife here is pretty amazing.  Big water birds sail these waters with ease.  To be an observer of this force is a humbling experience.  Nature does this.  The added bonus is a mango farm on the way here that sells the most delicious mango ice cream and milkshakes.

Oh! I’m missing travel and being outdoors so very much!  My days are a roller coaster of emotions.  I feel vulnerable some days and others, stronger and resolved.  I question myself whether I could have appreciated my experiences more than I did.  Is it really possible?  Ever hopeful, I guess I’ll only know once I travel again.

I love the anonymity travel gives me.  I am often in small towns where no one knows my name and yet I have never felt lonely.  Here in the city, I am consumed by a sense of being alone, so I put my game face on and plod through another day.  I have always believed feeling lonely when in company, is a crushing feeling.  I find walking through supermarkets or shops an unnerving experience.  The automatic response of putting distance between folks is unsettling.  I have a massage several times a month.  I am an affectionate person with those I love so I have skin hunger like nothing I have experienced before!  When I’m home alone working I’m oblivious to it.  But if I go out and return home, it takes a while for me to settle into my skin so I plan each day, each week carefully.

During the day the sounds in my neighbourhood are a comfort.  Children practicing their piano or wind instrument.  The low hum of neighbours’ voices.  The hammering, the lawn mowing, dogs barking.  But the odd feeling of presence amid absence is disconcerting.  I feel a pang of guilt writing this post when there is such pain around the world but on second thoughts I felt it was important to look at the human experience of this at a subjective level.  If I cannot access this in myself, I know I will not be able to understand it in others.

I’ve decided to stagger whatever work that remains to be done to the home.  It feels good to have someone around.  I’ve found a good gardener who is enthusiastic about rejuvenating my garden.  Once it is established, I know it will be a healing space.  And, don’t we all need this?

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Tuesday – Bravado

Unfiltered

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Rainbow lorikeet, in my garden

Being home has given me the opportunity to get my house and garden close enough to what I envisaged when I bought the property.  I’ve had time to build up my ‘little black book’ and struck gold.  I now have a small group of good tradesmen who are able to help me realise my dream.

With most of the internal building renovations done and just painting and window treatments left indoors, I’m enjoying moments in the garden trying to dream up a space that will keep me grounded.  I was toying with the idea of getting rid of the big mulberry tree.  I get barely a cup of fruit from lower branches and a laden, tall tree is tantalizing to others too, it would seem.  Sadly cockroaches love the fruit and when the fruiting season is done, they try and come indoors.  I abhor cockroaches enough to contemplate, for a brief moment, to cut down the tree.

Last evening at dusk I heard the rainbow lorikeets outside my study window.  They love the mulberry tree.  Then I remembered what a serendipitous moment feels like, and it made my heart beat to a new rhythm again.

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Monday – Flutter