a backgammon game is happening on the east verandah

John  Mick and a bottle of home brew.

usually john thrashes him and mick takes the beating with excellent humour .

he has not yet developed the strategies needed

to best John,

who gives no ground .

the wind is blowing thru the trees and the garden

leaves and sticks crackle and snap onto the roof.

strips of bark flap and tear off

 a whirling swirling  motion

a dance

an action of life exploring it Self.

tree creepers stab their beaks in  up and down the trunks

butterflies dip in and out of the buddleia flowers

black snake lying next to the water tank

a glistening coil in the sun.

water skinks play  chasing inside and outside

they wander along the bedroom window sill

climb the mud walls

scoot behind the stove and the wood pile

never minding us.

daddy long legs start to rebuild in the windows

following my cleaning .

little swamp wallaby rests under the shade of the lemon tree

eating the artichoke plants.

all things are going about their business

being their life

never minding us.