There’s a little ringtail possum living in my garden, in a nesting box my husband and daughter built about three years ago. We were told it could take a few years for someone to move in, and every so often we would check the box - held high up in a gum tree near our fence line - for signs of life. For years: nothing. I had almost given up hope, when one of the girls noticed recently that the opening had been scratched and chewed a little. Then, one day, a tiny claw was hanging out. The next, a little sleeping face framed by the circular entry. Another, a slim white-tipped tail lolled out. It seemed our small friend was a rather exuberant sleeper, not worried in the least about us chatting and arguing and squawking at the outdoor table at the base of the tree.
In a beautiful speech at the 2024 AACTA Awards, Costa Georgiadis spoke about the importance of storytelling. He said, ‘stories about nature matter more than ever today, more than ever before.’ This struck me, because in amongst a world of terror and horror, sharing stories about nature is something I love to do, but often wonder if it’s ‘important enough’. When I slow down to think about it, witnessing and sharing the vitality and beauty of nature feels like one of the most important things I can do. It’s something I maintain as a critical aspect of parenting my growing children in an age of capitalism, globalisation and destruction. And besides all of that, it’s something I love to engage in myself, to balance out the horror of the world that is all too easy to be consumed by. What do you think? Is engaging with stories about the natural world (either real or fictional) important to you?
This morning I took the dog for a walk after school drop off, and listened to a few podcasts along the way. One was Sarah Wilson talking about why hiking ‘works’. It was about 40 minutes into my walk as I listened to Sarah, that the multitude of concepts swirling around in my overactive mind reached a small moment of clarity or discernment as Sarah describes it. Things become more certain when putting one foot in front of the other, and even when I don’t understand it, I just know that walking is one of the best things I can do for myself. I found an owl feather around about the same time and, if you believe in such things, finding a special feather always feels like a message or sign.
I’ve just begun training for a long group hike in the high country in November this year, which I’ll tell you more about down the track, and it felt good to be out on the trail this morning, spending my time outdoors, letting my thoughts spiral around me. Last weekend I went out with my walking group and walking with company offers another type of connection and embodiment with our surrounds. I always feel better when I’ve been able to get out for a walk.
Other things…
I’m currently reading Pachinko by Min Jin Lee, and I’m about three quarters of the way through. I won’t say too much now, but I will share the most perfect riff on chopping radishes from page six: Hoonie’s mother kept her head down, handling her sharp knife confidently - each cube of radish was square and certain. When a large mound of white radish cubes formed on the cutting board, she transferred the load in a clean swipe into a mixing bowl. Sigh, lovely. I’ll share more about it when I’ve finished.
Some of you may know I am partial to taking a sound bite while I’m out walking, and piecing these together with an image later on. Via Sophie Hansen’s newsletter (check out her beautiful cookbooks too) I discovered TreeFM and Sounds of the Forest, creating a soundmap of forests and natural places throughout the world. I could spend hours listening to these recordings!
These chickpea ‘mookies’ landed in my girls’ lunchboxes this week. It took 15 minutes to whip them up and unceremoniously slop them onto a baking tray. And, they ate them. That’s a win.
I’m thrilled that the Read This podcast is back from their summer break. Have a listen to this episode interviewing Briohny Doyle about her most recent novel Why We Are Here. I haven’t read it, but I’d like to. In the episode this book is also mentioned and piqued my interest for sure (it had me at ‘apocalyptic’). A couple to add to the TBR pile.
It’s my day off work today, and I am a few days late with this edition. For the rest of my time before school pick up, I’m ignoring the washing and other domestic detritus and instead, am listening to Zoë Keating (which I always find thought provoking), doing some librarianship admin before classes start next week (!) and maybe writing some notes on the essay I’m currently working on, which (cryptic clue) is (very loosely) about shells and classical music (comment below if you know what they might have in common?). This afternoon I’ll be driving girls to netball, dropping our 95 million overdue books back at the library and nutting out life’s biggest question: what’s for dinner?
Until next time, travel light (and, go for a walk).
Lucinda x
A lovely letter this week Lucinda. Walking in nature and reading and sharing nature stories are things I love too. Thanks for sharing