After a very hot weekend we are expecting a winter storm. What’s up with this weather!
I woke this morning to absolute stillness and silence. I took a hot drink to the sofa and gazed across the patio. In the past few days I’ve noticed a tiny Willy Wagtail. Still a chick it is mostly silent. I watched it yesterday struggle to fly up to the fence, and once it gained momentum, over it. I wondered if it landed in the swimming pool next door!
This morning, an hour went by before I heard a tiny chirp. It was Willie the Brave! 
I stood at the window and there it was. Flitting around under the patio. It feeds off the insects in the cobwebs, and flies around with ‘crumbs’ stuck to his face. I watched it practice fantail, unsuccessfully, and smiled like a parent while gazing at it with affection.
This morning I went outdoors with my camera. I hoped my presence would not scare him off. It didn’t. We shared the same space for a few moments.
This tiny bird shared a moment with me this morning. A tiny one but big in generosity. This little creature with no other agenda, no angle, just curiosity. Much like me.
This is one of the simple joys I’ve enjoyed while being home most of this month. I have a few more days at home before my gruelling schedule resumes. My job mostly entails giving parents bad news. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea for a profession. I know the toll this takes on me. So I seek other ways to soothe my spirit. And I’ve learned, it’s moments like I experienced this morning, that uplift me.
When one realises life is finite, the value of it grows with each passing day. So I’ve learned to find joy in the mundane which is best said by Anais Nin:
A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.
May you find joy in whatever path you choose to walk today.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
M is nearly seven. A veteran of a few surgeries and was recovering from one in this picture. She knows not to jump on me and can read my hand signal, stop. Clever girl! She is now comfortable in my home whenever they visit.
Then came Em. The Instagram star. She also found herself featured in an Ikea catalogue. Our little celebrity. Hold a mobile phone and Em will immediately get a toy and pose! She was barely a year old in this picture and is now bigger. The first thing I do on the internet each morning, is look at her latest picture. She is my morning smile.
The most recent addition to the family is Kovu, my son’s chocolate labrador. Still only a few months old he is a bundle of energy. It makes me smile when the dogs go to the beach on ‘a play date’! I nearly fell off the chair the other day when my son stated he needed to go home as his “son” was waiting for him. This from a hipster twentysomething who claims he and his fiancee are never going to have children!
I even collect recipes when I’m in a plane!
Poached egg with salmon on potato rosti with Hollandaise sauce and caper berry. Best breakfast ever enjoyed at The Pumphouse, Kununurra, far north of Perth. It is my favourite restaurant in this region that sits on the site of the old Ord Pump Station on the Ord River. The dinner with a magnificent sunset, is pretty amazing too and I’ve shared pictures of this in another post.
The most memorable breakfast I’ve ever eaten was by the banks of the King River, after sleeping under stars in outback Kimberley. Bread toasted over an open fire, the smell of eggs and bacon frying and a side of freshly caught barramundi with nothing but salt and pepper to season it. It set the bar high.
A far cry from eating out is the paleo inspired breakfast I cook for the family on a Sunday with a glass of freshly squeezed apple, celery, lime and ginger juice.
Or for lunch, one of the family’s favourite curries is a recipe from Donna Hay (Lemon Lime Coconut Chicken). A Thai inspired curry that is absolutely delicious and takes barely 15 minutes to make. 
My children have never been to India so when they were younger whatever I cooked up and presented as Indian food, got me by. They were my biggest fans, my version of a biryani being a favourite. (It’s not really a biryani, more of a pilaf!). I’m not good at cooking Indian food. I know this. I know the taste and what it should be. I never seem to get it right. Now that Perth has a proliferation of Indian restaurants serving more authentic food, I’ve noticed my children prefer to eat out when I offer to cook Indian! Hmmmm
Italian sausages cooked with capcicums, chillies and dressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar with crusty bread is a quick and delicious meal to take to a pot luck dinner with friends.
My go to comfort food is an Indian beef stew with vegetables and pasta, a recipe that evokes childhood, with nothing else to season it but salt, peppercorns, bay leaf, cinnamon and cardamon, slow cooked, of course. I’m not sure where the recipe came from but I recall our 
Then there’s the best time of year. Christmas. Where all my dreams come true. I love to experiment. This was a little shot of peppermint candy cane milkshake I made a couple of years ago.
But I’m not as creative as others in making up recipes, like this one I found in 2016 somewhere along my travels!
About 30 km out of Karratha in mining country, the Burrup Peninsular is a pretty special place, especially at sunset. It is also a place of controversy with the gas exploration near by.
I’ve been here a few times but mostly seek sunset near the water. One evening we decided to take a walk instead. With light was fading and with no torch, although my travelling companion was more adventurous, I was not keen to walk back to the car in the dark. So it was a short stay among the fearsome hot rocks.
The art here is thousands of years old, some newer (1800s). I felt a deep sense of reverence in this ancient place. This place did not have the prominence of prime time TV slots. It did not vie for attention with the glorious sunset. Yet, it captivated my attention and my spirit. It quietened me and put me in a meditative space. It was a library of life, how it was lived, by the hunters and gatherers. It emitted a message. The understanding of it, was mine to keep in the moment, interpret later, and pass on. So I am.
The pink galahs make me laugh! It would appear, when it comes to love, no different than you and me.
Born at dawn, I wake at dawn each day. When I’m not home the last thing I do before I go to bed is check the time for first light and sunrise. I then set my clock to five minutes before. I can’t think of one reason why I should stay in bed, when this is outside my hotel room in Esperance.
At home one of my pet peeves is turning on the light when it is still dark in the home. I love the quiet moment of ambivalence of darkness before light. I sit and enjoy my coffee while the shadows take shape. As I sipped my coffee I inhaled the unmistakable breathtaking perfume of jasmine. To my left, just beyond the patio, I caught a glimpse of white. The light scatter of petals will be a dense carpet soon.
As I walked around a garden, cooled by the sprinklers overnight, my eyes were drawn to new growth. My heart space has taught me, the freshest growth is where the plant is pruned the harshest. A take away message today for me.
Nature has taught me to seek an 
I often photograph surfers early morning in Esperance. Surfers walk into the water to be one with it, whereas I, a non-swimmer, stand away from the roiling waves in awe. The draw to the sea, the fear and fascination, that pull from one to the other is inexplicable. Much like a surfer, I surrender to joy of seduction, when I’m in that moment of play.
The feel of walking bare feet on sea debris.
Seeing my touchstone again on Cable Beach, before it is permanently part of the sea. (I’ve written about this rock platform in a previous post, titled Narratives).
Experiencing a moment when a tiny Lesser Sand Plover, stands like a mountain before me.
Standing below a red collared lorikeet in Kununurra wondering how did it get that shaggy look!
Looking into the glassy eyes of the Inland Thornbill.
Experiencing the delight at finding a button quail on the front lawn of a hotel, so tiny, I thought it was a mouse. The mother quail stayed a fraction longer, so I could take a picture of her beautiful feathered herringbone cloak.
Spending time with kingfishers, silent in trees above me.
And in the Midwest, where the only clouds are between wheat fields and sky.
Waking to find the colours of sunset at my doorstep, at dawn.
Spending time at the beach where I am 20 feet taller
and knowing my heart is whole again.
These joys await in the not too distant future, I know for sure. But for now, like the tiny Lesser Sand Plover I’ll ignore the waves of work and focus on just what’s before me. Work.
This time the bird stayed on the twig, aloof.
The gaze, intent.
Ever watchful.
Within a week the behaviour changed. The bird became territorial.
Every time I went to the laundry line or patio. It would watch me from a distance.
It would display the tail, the distinctive fantail and chirp excitedly.
It found a high spot, a natural arbour made by the branches of the mulberry tree.
One day it pulled itself up to look bigger and then swooped me.
One morning, unable to go outdoors, I aimed the camera at the mulberry tree. That’s when I saw the nest the Willy Wagtail had been defending. I respected the need for protection and never got to photograph the chick/s. I did find an empty eggshell one day under the mulberry tree and was happy with that.
My visit north will not be green. It will be encased in the fine red dust of the Kimberley.
I’m not scared of spiders at all, but I am of reptiles.
And (sensibly) scared of crocodiles.
Across the road from my hotel in Kununurra, my first stop, will be Celebrity Tree Park and Lily Creek Lagoon where I walk early morning, camera in hand. I love that this major highway is like a suburban side road.
There will be dragon flies with net wings teaching me to balance.
In groves of ancient boab trees, I’ll find a mother’s embrace, long overdue.
Despite the heat, I’m hoping there are lily filled billabongs, like ones I’ve seen before.
And migratory birds who are still calling the Kimberley home, before they fly.
At first the mother duck swam serenely past him with ducklings in tow.
He watched them glide by and drew attention, the sound a mere burble that made ripples around him, saying “I’m here”.
She ignored him. Then his body language changed as he exposed more and more of his chin lobe and moved faster, with a speed that took me by surprise.
He followed the female duck drawing closer, becoming increasingly relentless in his pursuit.
I thought the ducklings looked afraid as they moved towards their mother. She stopped and studied the moment.
Then she intervened, putting herself between the male and her ducklings. She engaged in a dance with him this way as they glided past me, in a back and forth.
He chased her repeatedly, the ripples around him becoming wider.
She ignored him. He arched his body into a bow, chin lobe prominent and brush tail stiffened in a final still moment.
Then he exploded. The water erupted around him. In one desperate moment, he put on his best show. She did what ducks do best. With ducklings in tow, she paddled on, unimpressed.
I’ll start by putting it out there. I’m no sports fan. After decades of living in Australia, I’m still getting my head around Australian Rules football (colloquially known as footy). Briefly …
A Shared Space 
You must be logged in to post a comment.