It’s been a while since I posted, I have been busy doing mundane tasks. This morning I promised myself to stop long enough to smell the roses and it worked. I stopped long enough to read and be a part of this beautiful morning ritual with a group of people unknown to each other and fell in love again with those small, but simply amazing, moments. Thanks for bringing me back, Stuart.
Friends and I enjoyed sun, sand, and surf with other beachgoers on a recent Saturday. Sitting slathered in sticky sunscreen beneath our umbrellas, we pointlessly brushed sand from our legs as we discussed evening plans. The seagulls overhead laughed louder than the swimmers splashing in nearby waves while those of us on the beach napped, read, or simply watched people. My friends discussed how relaxing it was and how nice it would be to sleep late the next morning.
Sleep late? I mentioned to them that we only get so many sunrises in a lifetime. Shouldn’t we get up to look at a few?
They stared blankly for a second then shook their heads in unison. No.
In the wee hours of the next morning, alone in the dark, I started the short walk from house to beach guided only by dim lights above the boardwalk. It was eerily quiet at…
I’d love to show these beautiful pictures. In an Australian summer, as these are, it’s a pretty rare thing to see dew.
It’s been so hot and humid lately, with bouts of rain. I learnt a new word today – thundershowers, and that’s what we’re having tonight. When I woke up a couple of days ago, it was super early and as I let MissG out, I noticed the grass was covered in a white sheen! The closest we get to snow here in Brisbane (LOL) – a gorgeous light dew covering the entire lawn. So, coffee and camera at the ready, I went out and lay flat on my stomach on the tiles and took some macro shots of these lovely dew drops. Beautiful start to the day.
For sometime I have been toying with the idea of installing a small aquaponics system in my yard. Part of the sustainable lifestyle I am trying to lead is the important responsibility of raising as much of the food we eat as possible. So the thought of breeding my own fish for eating, while their waste water recycles as nutrients in my veggie patch, cycling, cleansing and returning to the fish, really appeals to me. I want some living systems to learn from as well as to grow my own provisions – at least within the capabilities of my (very) small garden. I want to spend more time immersed in ‘nature’ than I do. So all hyped up with that in mind I decided to visit a recommended aquaponics retailer. Now I must say, although my research showed I’d have to wait a while for the fish to grow large enough for harvesting I was running a few recipes through my head on the way there. As you do. Unfortunately discussion with the helpful staff made me realise the tank I thought suited to my courtyard is not suited to having edible fish because of the small area. Pop!! A bubble bursts, there goes that dream. But in its place …. more room, bigger systems. A girl can dream! And speaking of learning – something I observed in the vegie beds which had just flushed with water, beautiful, buzzing, thirsty little bees. It’s a perfect drinking hole for them because they cannot drown. So there is another part in a wonderful cyclic system we need to care for. These industrious little creatures play such an important role in maintaining our complex food structures. Without them, it might be life, but not life as we know it.
From working seven days a week in three different jobs I finally managed to connect the dots to get three whole days off work in a row. Pure magic! Exmouth had a pin on the map, now I was getting the opportunity to visit, even if briefly. There is much to feast your eyes on in North West Cape of Western Australia. Try snorkelling on the Ningaloo Marine Park World Heritage Site! It’s hard not to imagine you are a fish in a tropical fish tank, at least that was how I felt on my first float. However, one of the simple things that truly took my breath away was possibly of less interest to many. As a West Australian I think I can sometimes take long, empty stretches of white sand beaches for granted, as you can do with things that become everyday familiars. But now I have another kind of beach to compare with that fine, soft sand.
Pebble Beach in Exmouth is made up of, you guessed it, pebbles! This is not the norm for me. I was totally astounded. They were not rocks or coarse broken shells as I have seen in foreign photographs, but small, rounded pebbles which appeared to have been tumbled. Each precious little rock had been rubbed smooth, as though having been lovingly touched, rolled around in a small hand over many years by a little boy to whom it was the most precious of items. For me it conjured up all sorts of questions, who? how? when? I lay on the rocks, as someone unfamiliar with white sand would lay upon sand. I suspect with a similar sense of wonder. I trickled those rocks though my fingers with a certain reverence. I am not a religious person, but when I realised each rock fell straight from a larger rock, each one already “tumbled” as the parent rock eroded and let it roll free I guess I came to wonder yet again at the magnificent simplicity of nature. Dear Reader, I hope you too have the opportunity to experience such a sense of awe for something today.