This rhythm, life

January was to be a quiet month of settling into my home.  But eight days down I have already made my first trip, this time to Geraldton, in the Midwest and have more visits to come.  I had also planned to complete all reports pending from last year and ploughing my way through the mountain.  I’ve been less productive than I hoped I would be.  Perhaps, this is just the aftermath of holidays or the heat that’s slowing me down.  As I lumber on, I thought I’d stop and reflect on the rewards that await me should I stay on task.DSCN7513.jpgThe feel of walking bare feet on sea debris.DSCN7426.jpgSeeing 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).DSCN7535.jpgExperiencing a moment when a tiny Lesser Sand Plover, stands like a mountain before me.DSCN7913.jpgStanding below a red collared lorikeet in Kununurra wondering how did it get that shaggy look!DSCN8202.jpgLooking into the glassy eyes of the Inland Thornbill.DSCN8314.jpgExperiencing 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.DSCN8221.jpgSpending time with kingfishers, silent in trees above me.DSCN8355.jpgAnd in the Midwest, where the only clouds are between wheat fields and sky.DSCN8307.jpgWaking to find the colours of sunset at my doorstep, at dawn.DSCN7790.jpgSpending time at the beach where I am 20 feet tallerDSCN7813.jpgand knowing my heart is whole again.DSCN7783.jpgThese 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.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

 

 

The return

No matter where I am, almost always, the first bird I see is the Willy Wagtail.  It is a constant, a reassurance of the familiar.  It is always good company.  They are fearless on approach, intent on the insects that are dispersed when one walks.  I’ve nearly stepped on one during a bush walk.

Being away from home frequently, I make every effort to create the feeling of ‘home’ everywhere I go.  One year it seemed ironic, when I was home, I was not.

I went to the back yard, and with the Willy Wagtail for company, I wandered around as I always do, checking on this and that.  DSCN9862.jpgThis time the bird stayed on the twig, aloof.DSCN7033.jpgThe gaze, intent.DSCN9856.jpgEver watchful.DSCN9847.jpgWithin a week the behaviour changed.  The bird became territorial.DSCN9886.jpgEvery time I went to the laundry line or patio.  It would watch me from a distance.DSCN9916.jpgIt would display the tail, the distinctive fantail and chirp excitedly.DSCN9911.jpgIt found a high spot, a natural arbour made by the branches of the mulberry tree.DSCN9917.jpgOne day it pulled itself up to look bigger and then swooped me.

Once the bird swooped me, my backyard was no longer mine.  I had crossed an invisible line.  I was a target, moving or not.  If I dared to stand by the sliding door or even window, it would fly up against the glass.  The message was clear.  Stay away!DSCN7034.jpgOne 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.

Homecoming is about rejoicing the return.  Yesterday I watched a pair of Willy Wagtails in the backyard, playful and cheeky.  Courtship, perhaps.  I watched them with growing amusement, and knew sometime in the future, my home will no longer be mine.  I’m okay with that.

I reflected on the word home what it means and represents and realised the most comfortable home, is the one I’ve created in self.

I’ve practiced mindfulness for some years now.  It used to take a great deal of effort when life separated me from self.  Now it is effortless.  It takes but a few minutes each day, like it did to compose this post, and when I do, like the birds, the homecoming is a celebration.  So why not celebrate every day?

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

 

 

 

I missed it!

It seems another year has ended in a blink.  I’ve travelled endlessly in 2018.  I’ve tried several times to look at my schedule to count the trips and given up by the time I got to March.  The number no longer matters, but the fun I’ve had, does.

So when on to a good thing why Segway off course.  There’s more of the same in the coming months, so move aside, or watch this space, as I segue into 2019.

thumb_IMG_3873_1024.jpgI’m planning more adventures.DSCN9591.jpgAnd will travel winding roads with destination in mind.DSCN6407.jpgI will spend time seaside in the company of seagulls.DSCN5774.jpgI will seek wisdom in silence.thumb_IMG_3928_1024.jpgAnd enjoy working with purpose.  Head down …. you know the drill.DSC_0570.jpgI will learn a sunset is always perfect, and like life, never marred by the unexpected. DSCN4654.jpgAnd like waves, transiency is also beautiful.thumb_IMG_3869_1024.jpgI will take time to watch in awe …thumb_IMG_3870_1024.jpgThe palette I am given each day.thumb_IMG_3950_1024.jpgI will look for the unexpected in whimsy, maybe even throw caution to the wind and let walls once built strong crumble, to let ‘Barry’ in!thumb_IMG_3868_1024.jpg“All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind” (Khalil Gibran)

Cheers!  May we meet in the New Year to dine again in blogosphere.

Until then my warmest wishes to you and your loved ones for 2019.

As always

a dawn bird

 

Bespoke dawn

My mother told me I was born to the sound of birdsong, so I wake each day to the same.  I quarantine that time for myself until I share it with an unknown audience.  This is my practice every day regardless of where I am in this large State.

My eyes are not always on the horizon.  The horizon is only a horizon when framed by something else.  It is changeable depending on the vista and perception.  Life has taught me to focus on what is within my power to change.  So my eyes focus on my feet where, when faced with crossroads, I make a choice which path I take.

Unlike my professional day, my personal day is uncharted so I start here at dawn.  It is a place of integration.  It is where I’m put together as one.

Bespoke dawn

The morning is my chapel

A painted sky, the ceiling

birdsong for hymn so sweet

a raptor folds his wings to listen

under a tree canopy,

I practice silence

surrounded by sound

and in that stillness

I seek and find Thee.

DSCN8824A young boab tree, Roebuck Bay, Broome, Western AustraliaDSCN9646Esperance Bay, Esperance, Western AustraliaDSCN0216Young bee catcher, Parry Creek, Wyndham, Western AustraliaDSCN9916Gum trees, South West, Western AustraliaDSCN8897Purple enamel orchid, South West, Western Australia

My wish for you is that you find your own space where you create your day, too.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

 

All roads lead from here …

I’ve just returned home from my last trip for the year.  I should be tired, but I’m not!  I’m already making plans for next year.

On the flight from Geraldton I thought about the time when I first accepted this type of work; work that entailed frequent travel around the State.  I recall that time of my life well.

A secure, tenured position is where I was, the unknown was … working for myself.DSC_0869.jpgI woke early one morning, a glorious morning.  My hotel balcony overlooked Roebuck Bay in Broome.  This is the moment I heard life speak to me, ‘Leave the ordinary behind’.

That was years ago.

Since then I’ve come to learn.  Like the photograph, one I’ve never been able to capture again, opportunities present themselves at the right moment.  One just has to be prepared to walk untethered from ‘here’ to ‘there’.

It’s a bridge worth crossing at least once in life.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

At day break today …

I woke at first light, at 4:40 am and headed to Woody Lake this morning in Esperance.  It was my goodbye visit, at least, for this year.  The smaller birds were out and about.  A lone pelican claimed the lake.  I claimed the rest of the reserve shared with birds.  DSCN9882.jpgThe tiny silvereye was young and bold, sitting exposed and facing the sun.DSCN9904.jpgThe Willy Wagtail chick was shiny as a new penny …DSCN9905.jpglooking intently into the distance with wisdom in beady eyes.DSCN9909.jpgThe young crested pigeon was gorgeous with ruffled feathers.DSCN9945.jpgWhat delighted me the most was the juvenile grey fantail.DSCN9950.jpgThis little one had the sweetest call, an overture that filled the canopy it sat underneath.DSCN9951.jpgThen a moment of quiet, except for my heartbeat.DSCN9957.jpgThe young wattle bird found a perch here and there on banksia cones.  The distinctive metallic call silenced, or perhaps not yet developed.DSCN9964.jpgThis is the first time I’ve seen a Western spinebill and try as I may, I could not get a better pic but I know I’ll be back next year for it.

I was busy this trip being my last for a couple of months.  Plenty of things that needed tidying up.  I returned to my hotel each evening, too tired to go out, even for a massage.  I saved my energy for this morning.  The sights and sounds were a revelation.  I saw new life everywhere.  It was exactly what I needed.  This is the lure of bush walking.  The message is always a simple one for me.  Be prepared to connect.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

 

Mother Boab and me …

Last night I was disciplined.  I went to bed at a decent hour.  That’s the last memory I have.  I needed to crash.

The first sounds I heard this morning were the excited screeches of lorikeets, the sound synonymous with trees, so I rummaged through my photographs and returned to the mornings in Kununurra.

DSCN9330.jpgI usually stay opposite the tree park.  It is one of my favourite places to walk in the mornings.  I stride across, purposefully, for the massive boab, the matriarch.DSCN9274This time I found, like me, a butterfly needed a soft place to land.DSCN9237.jpgHigh above, there were a few boab flowers coming into bloom.  They are exquisite.  Thick, creamy petals that fold over like heavy taffeta …DSCN9406… the inside, emits the softest pearly light.DSCN9216.jpgI wandered around for hours, the sense of oneness under these trees consolidated a promise to return.DSCN9280.jpgBeyond the green is Lily Creek Lagoon where this tiny bird held me captive.  DSCN9308On this morning, Mother Boab taught me, nothing says new life more eloquently, than a sprig of green on gnarly, old limbs.  So here I am, typing my post, experiencing life differently.

I’m off again in a few hours.  I’ll be flying over Shark Bay, where the waters will be bluer than the sky today.  The thought makes my eyes shine.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird