A littlebig story

helloo

singsongs the young voice.

hello I say

hello grandma

has mummy gone to bed?

past 7 o’clock I knew I was winging it

yes he tells me

ok well how is she?

she’s good, feeling much better.

that’s good I say

she did another yeti

terrific

so she had a neti and went to bed with Haydee

giggling over the line

as he got the yeti neti joke.

give her my love

ok, love you grandma

love you Kingston John.

a simple interaction

an easily forgettable moment.

the bedroom door is flung open

Haydee stands there head cocked on one side

all of 20 months

having a sleep over with her family.

the young kings sister is formidable

uh

hello sweetheart we croon

in bed with our cups of tea and sardines on toast.

a summers dawn

a chatter of birds

a magpie melody

kookaburras chuckling.

coming up then

uh

hoisted up by grandad

and wobbly crawling plants herself in the middle.

uh  uh   hand pointing

I pass her a piece of toast

we sit the three of us

wonga pigeon wanders across the verandah.

she babbles away

rarely saying words we recognise

at home in her own language

at home in her own skin.

a tall lad blinky eyed appears in the doorway

startled to find his spot usurped by the little sister

we bunch over to make room

the toast is shared again.

this is a moment of loving connection

a gift for the soul

a treasure for the heart

a gem to wear in less savoury moments.

again a simple interaction

an event not worth mentioning.

But for

the love that pulsates in the ethers

enveloping us within its force field

renewing connections of feel good neuron activity

supporting

nourishing

benefiting

unifying .

this is the realm of Little Big

a yin yang thing.

if you have read the third policeman it is the point of the needle

if you haven’t it is the time between breaths

the space between smiles

part and parcel of the eternal Presence of Now.

a hardly anything moment

like so much of life

and yet

we can if we choose

be Present

and milk it for all it is worth.

 

Exif_JPEG_420

W : welcome …

welcome to the land of the mist spiders

 

Autumn:

some early morning mist shrouds the forest in a thick silver grey blanket of moisture. Slung between branches and grasses are hundreds of webs, some as small as my hand, others bigger than a dinner plate and some shaped like baskets. Dewdrops hang poised on the gossamer threads and flash rainbows when caught in a sunbeam. A swamp wallaby sits under the wild cherry tree, having a bit of a scratch. A tiny head pops out from the pouch and looks around. Mother wallaby leans over and deftly clips a blade of grass to chew. Baby leans further out and clumsily sprawls onto the ground. It jumps up, leaps on Mum tumbles off has a scratch, ears twitch, a nibble then dives head first back into it‘s warm pocket.

Winter:

days shorten and darken, very few hours of sunlight reach thru the tall canopy of gums. Under cold moonlight the wombat moves unhurriedly thru the bush pausing often to listen scratch think and munch on grass.  A superb blue wren flies into the house each day and gathers rent from the bench tops while upstairs in the roof a diamond python sleeps.  The dead trees of the forest supply us with firewood which becomes our focus, a meditation of wood gathering, chopping, splitting and stacking. Beside the fire we dream warmly and stories are told.

 

Spring:

from the kitchen window we watch two red belly black snakes dance in the garden. They raise their sleek bodies up off the ground and exerting great force twine around and around each other pushing and swaying until one gives way. Quick as a flash they chase each other across the yard before rising up again going head to head. This is a male ritual of spring procreation. Over by the pond near the lemon tree a female is basking in sunshine. One of the males has to get his head higher than the other to become the winner, the alpha male. Much later John working in the shed notices the vanquished slink away thru the hedge. The winner glides sensuously over to the pond and curls up near the female where they loiter with intent well into the evening. The next day we discover them as coiled loops of black and red gently vibrating. Unlike the mating habits of the rooster and the hen this continues for hours.

Summer:

an echidna with a back full of quivering spikes shuffling along on tiny feet stops and sticks its pointy nose deep into the earth and slurps up the ants. Goanna wearing its tough leathery coat and long sharp claws has responded to the heat and cruises the forest hunting old deaths and getting scolded by kingfisher and kookaburra.  We discover a tortoise laying eggs in a hole in the middle of our track, why there we wonder?  Kingston helps place a barricade around the spot but we never see them hatch out. The white headed pigeon flies in thirsty after its long flight south, perches on the edge of the tank beside the verandah and takes a long deep drink. Another migrant the channel-billed cuckoo an outrider of the storm fronts moving down from up north turns up with a wild screech and looks for a nest to place its egg in. Wattlebirds arrive and immediately start bossing the eastern spine bill, the new holland honeyeater and the lewins.

welcome to the forest

of the faerie embassy

where the mist spiders live…

 

Exif_JPEG_420

 

this is chewed ears , he is the father of the little mob that hang about the house. here he is in a patch of  stinging nettle which he eats. truly .two theories on the chewed ears are a result of ticks on the ears or a bit of scrapping though we have only ever seen them play fighting each other so more likely ticks….

 

***

 

happy solstice

summer solstice

the wheel has reached its point and made the turn

back to a miniscule shortening day by day even though for us summer has arrived.

 

on the bike to the beach

a meditation in which my mindful mind notices my fidgety body

sitting on the soft white sand with the sea thudding in mere inches from my feet.

a small rocky island squats off shore home to cormorants and other sea birds.

in this moment it is  calm and unhurried

the sun warmly intense upon our bodies.

and then when prayers are done we strip off and offer our selves to the salty ocean.

it is kidney aching cold says John but he manages to swim a bit anyway while I hop and bob and dip.

it is refreshing to mind body and spirit.

the beach is a mile long and we are the only souls apart from a little sandpiper who flaps and flares at me – beware beware beware

I stop and see two speckled eggs sitting on top of the sand – oh dear it is holiday time and there will be children and dogs and all manner of activities – how will they survive?

it is doing as it has always done and I offer a prayer that it brings its chicks safely into being.

back home the sky darkens and thunder starts its drum roll .

 

 

Noticings since my return home :

dipodium roseum a pink hyacinth orchid rises up on its single brown stalk – at 110cm with tiny orchid flowers sometimes as many as 40.

christmas beetles – member of the scarab family about 20 -30mm long

they are a shiny bronze beetle with a greeny yellowy iridescence – noisy flyers bumbly and clumsy devouring the fresh new leaves of the eucalypts.

 

turtles aplenty on the dams but no sightings of egg laying sites.

 echidna on the move seeking lunch – this little creature a monotreme or egg laying mammal has no teeth but instead uses its sticky tongue to scoop up the termites and ants.

 

a black snake slides across the track in front of us making us wait – what a pleasure to stop and watch the slow sensual undulation, the head raised probing the way ahead -the tongue smelling molecules of air, a finely tuned sensor that locates  prey shelter and mates.

buddleia bushes are in rambunctious disorder heavy with the weight of bouquets –we have lilac crimson and white and together they provide not only beauty in our garden but a haven for birds and nests bees and butterflies.

 

 

john checks in on the top bar hive that he recently built and added a swarm to,

wearing his groovy coverall mesh safety helmet with  not a scerick of flesh visible he brings back a taste of honey .

oh my goodness an explosion of light sweetness into the mouth, my taste buds explore the wild forest flowers and whiffs of sunshine hail rain and moonlight .

pure unadulterated and humbled joy.

thank you bees,  thank you john who said back in January that this was the year of the hive and he meant it.

 

thank you to all of you

friends family community beloveds and blogging partners

I value each and everyone of you in my life  as I value the rain now falling and the ocean salt on my skin…

thank you all for being who you are and offering me a glimpse of your beauty.

may this year bring you all well being and happiness.

 

 

Happy Solstice