Friday, November 14, 2008
The wonders of nature
The other day, after being awoken by our cat who has developed a very precise inner clock, Hana and I got up and opened the door to be greeted by a misty morn. We stepped onto the verandah and there before us, stretched a spider's web from one tree to the other spanning a distance of about 6 metres. It was bejeweled with dew and at one end was this work of art (below) We wandered about on the lawn feeling the moist mildness of the Spring ground and as we looked up the mist evaporated in an instant, revealing a piercing blue sky. Where there was once a cobweb fairy land, it vanished before our eyes.
A few weeks ago, our mornings were very routine, there was no distinguishing one day from another, but here, every morning brings newness and surprise. It makes me feel so invigorated to see the trees and birds every morning. The magpie we found out the back made my heart sink though, until I walked up to it and it stared at me with one beady eye before jumping to it's feet, ruffling it's feathers with annoyance and stalking away. Phil tells me it's just what magpies do, he's seen it many times on the golf course. It seems to be a magpies' version of a spa and every warm day we've had since, I've seen up to 3 birds all lying face down in the dirt, still as stone.
Yesterday I had to go to the city (Nice to see you Kate!) I took the train and didn't get back home until evening. There was a storm brewing on the horizon, it had been a hot, hot day and as the sun dipped, the clouds were luminescent with a strange platinum glow. Since moving here, my mind is completely occupied with the weather, my garden, the air and the soil, I can't think what concerned me before, what kept my mind preoccupied when we lived in the city.
Over night, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled....and the rain came. It kept me awake but it was so delicious to lie there thinking of all that water soaking into the soil and leaf debris. The storm was welcome but fire restrictions start here on Monday, a sober reminder of the bush fire danger around here. I lay there hoping the ground was saturated, that lightning wouldn't set some remote tree in the forest alight. The bushfire risk is very real and serious here, especially during the drought. But the beauty of the mountain and bushland coupled with an ominous sense of danger makes me feel completely respectful and totally alive.