Recently, colour has started to emerge from dark places. Native orchids, daisies and grevillea are all beginning to bloom. Already the hakea has passed (such a brief but bright hurrah) and late winter wattle is popping. When I look out my window I see clouds of yellow where before wattles appeared unnoticed in the landscape within a sea of muted greens.
This past month saw me take an unintentional pause from this space; one fortnight came and went and another is already upon us. I’m not sure how it happened. Life has felt like a slow rotation of term three things: ferrying kids here and there, school notices, appointments, assessment tasks, food shopping, reading, resting. I’ve been living an ordinary life with ups and downs, some good days and some less so, and it has been perfectly suitable.
Yesterday, fighting against a feeling of ‘I don’t have time for this’, I encouraged my family into the car and we took the dog down to Birrarung. We arrived, walked, and were back home within an hour, and it felt replenishing.
The water was low, revealing a series of rockpools embedded with clay and riverstone. A clump of wattle was held gently in water within a small curve of rock. It reminded me that I don’t have to carve out hours in a day to meet with nature, to step outside the everyday doing.
Other things…
I mentioned Saving the Franklin last time I wrote, and between then and now I went back and listened to all the episodes again on my drives to and from work: bravo.
The other podcast I’ve been loving is the new series of the Bush Heritage pod, Big Sky Country, hosted by Tiahni Adamson, and it has been a joy to listen to so far.
I finished Kate Grenville’s book Unsettled, a curious and honest story where we join Kate on a physical trip down her lineage, to expose Australia’s violent colonial past. It’s a book I’m sure many of us can relate to.
I bought some fuzzy red wool from a country wool shop and if the stars align I will cast on this hat between now and when you hear from me next.
Sunset has edged further into the evening hours this fortnight and the tilt of the sunlight through my windows tells me we’re tiptoeing towards a new season. Where I live it’s the end of the Wurundjeri season of Guling (orchid season), and in tandem with the creeping sunset we’re moving towards Poorneet (tadpole season). What small changes have you noticed, where you live?
Over the next couple of weeks I’d love to pick up my knitting once or twice, and finish reading another book (as well as submit a dreaded librarianship assignment about metadata). What small things will you attempt, this fortnight?
And that’s quite enough for now.
Until next time, travel light.
Lovely to hear from you Lucinda. Our garden is waking up, slowly slowly, its beautiful to watch, the return from winter. Thanks for the podcast suggestions, always great. Take care, Kate
Everything is waking from winter here too, the wattle was spectacular!