Australia · floods · friends

The Courage of My Friend

“Courage doesn’t always roar.  Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.” ~ Mary Anne Radmacher

As we bid farewell to the month of January I am reminded that the theme at NaBloPoMo all of this month has been “Friends”, therefore I believe it is only fitting that my final post for the month should include an amazing article, written by one of my online friends, Káren Wallace, at the Calm Space.

January this year was always destined to be a huge month in Káren’s life, with family birthday celebrations, Káren and her husband’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and the looming excitement of the family moving into their newly built home.

What they hadn’t planned on was the turmoil their lives would be thrown into, along with hundreds of other families, during the January floods in Queensland, Australia.

Once Káren’s electricity, telephone and internet connections were restored, she wasted no time at all in sharing her “adventure” with her readers.

I already knew Káren to be a true woman of substance, of integrity, strength, wisdom and grace. But it was in her article published late last week on “Courage” that Káren revealed another side to her personality.

Here we find the vulnerable and very real lady, who has endured, along with her family, the heartache and pain brought about by the harsh realities of the Australian climate.

In speaking of courage, Káren tells us that she is “daring to be real and vulnerable and show my real self to the world.”

And that, she does.

But perhaps Káren shows us a very large smattering of psychic intuition in writing this article also. You would think, for all the world, that she had written the article “The Courage to be Me, The Courage to be Real” after picking herself up and brushing herself off after the recent floods.

In actual fact, Káren wrote the article last October, during the month of the theme “courage” at the Calm Space. And for some reason, she didn’t publish it back then.

The timing wasn’t right. It was too early for these words to be revealed to the world. This article needed to be published now, in the aftermath of the floods.

I do hope you will read and enjoy “The Courage to be Me, The Courage to be Real” and join me in sending my friend Káren, along with all the other Queenslanders who suffered in some way during the January floods, calm thoughts of strength and love.

“May the sun shine, all day long,
everything go right, and nothing wrong.
May those you love bring love back to you,
and may all the wishes you wish come true!”

~ Irish Blessing

Photo credit.

Australia

Visiting Point Danger, With Eyes Wide Open

Colours of Light

“Keeping my eyes wide open, I will show gratitude for all of the Everyday Inspirations I find in my life, recording their appearance to me in my Gratitude Diary.”

I wrote the above quoted words myself, on January 6, 2011, in my post “My Year for Freedom and Gratitude”. Little did I realise, as I wrote these words less than three weeks ago, just how closed my eyes had been.

For here, virtually right on my door step, is a veritable Touch of Paradise.

(Note ~ Run the mouse over each photo and click on it, to enlarge.)

Breaking Waves

Oh, for sure, I always knew it was there. The trouble is, I have been taking it for granted.

I Love Her Far Horizons

“Oft the colours are pitched so high
The deepest note is the cobalt sky…” ~ The Colours of Light, Dorothea Mackellar.

Point Danger lookout is situated right on the border of the two states of Queensland and New South Wales, with the border line running straight through the Captain Cook Memorial Lighthouse.

Captain Cook Memorial Lighthouse

The lighthouse itself stands 45 metres above sea level, or 146 feet.

This “Slice of Heaven on Earth” would be no more than fifteen minutes drive from where I live.

My first series of photographs were taken late yesterday afternoon. Although these pictures were all rather stunning, I figured the morning light would produce a far superior result, as Point Danger is located on the eastern side of Australia.

Crystals on the Ocean

The weather this morning was spectacular, with not a cloud in the sky. The salty-air wind howled around my ears as I walked around the lookout, taking photo after breathtaking photo, while the foamy white of the waves crashed into the rocks below.

These photos do not do the area justice. The colours surrounding me were magical. The bluest of blue skies, the greenness of the Southern Pacific Ocean, progressively darkening as the waters deepened and the ocean swelling and crashing in cascades of white bubbles against the rocks and along the shoreline of Duranbah Beach.

Duranbah Beach

In certain places, the sun glistened like shiny little crystals dotted across the ocean’s surface.

As I headed back to where I had parked my car this morning I came across a little fellow who my son had spotted yesterday afternoon, lazing on an embankment of rocks on the cliff face, probably 20 feet below us.

My attempts to photograph him yesterday had produced the result of a mound of brown rocks; he had camouflaged himself so well!

This morning, however, there he was as large as life, sunning himself on the grass beside the pathway, posing beautifully for a photo! After our photo shoot, he headed back to the safety of his rocky embankment.

Eastern Water Dragon

I’m confident in identifying my little model as an Eastern Water Dragon.

To say that I have reached an epiphany would be an understatement. I need to get out more; to explore my home area, my Touch of Paradise, with my eyes wide open and all of my six, (yes six!), senses, completely in tune to my surroundings.

And all of my discoveries will be written of, with accompanying photographs, right here. 🙂

Snapper Rocks
Australia

The Colours of Light

The 26th January is a day of celebration for Australia, a day which we simply call “Australia Day”.

In honour of Australia Day, I would like to share a beautiful poem by the famous Australian, Dorothea Mackellar.

The Colours of Light ~ Dorothea Mackellar (1885 – 1968)

This is not easy to understand
For you that come from a distant land
Where all the colours are low in pitch –
Deep purples, emeralds deep and rich,
Where autumn’s flaming and summer’s green –
Here is a beauty you have not seen.

All is pitched in a higher key,
Lilac, topaz, and ivory,
Palest jade-green and pale clear blue
Like aquamarines that the sun shines through,
Golds and silvers, we have at will –
Silver and gold on each plain and hill,
Silver-green of the myall leaves,
Tawny gold of the garnered sheaves,
Silver rivers that silent slide,
Golden sands by the water-side,

Golden wattle, and golden broom,
Silver stars of the rosewood bloom;
Amber sunshine, and smoke-blue shade:
Opal colours that glow and fade;
On the gold of the upland grass
Blue cloud-shadows that swiftly pass;
Wood-smoke blown in an azure mist;
Hills of tenuous amethyst. . .

Oft the colours are pitched so high
The deepest note is the cobalt sky;
We have to wait till the sunset comes
For shades that feel like the beat of drums –
Or like organ notes in their rise and fall –
Purple and orange and cardinal,
Or the peacock-green that turns soft and slow
To peacock-blue as the great stars show . . .

Sugar-gum boles flushed to peach-blow pink;
Blue-gums, tall at the clearing’s brink;
Ivory pillars, their smooth fine slope
Dappled with delicate heliotrope;
Grey of the twisted mulga-roots;
Golden-bronze of the budding shoots;
Tints of the lichens that cling and spread,
Nile-green, primrose, and palest red . . .

Sheen of the bronze-wing; blue of the crane;
Fawn and pearl of the lyrebird’s train;
Cream of the plover; grey of the dove –
These are the hues of the land I love.

(Photo from Google Images)

gardening · Tweed Valley

Shattered Silence…For a Worthy Cause!

Before 7am this morning I awoke to the distinct sound of a voice; a loud, female voice, outside my bedroom window and not too far away.

My next door neighbour is not known for her dulcet tones. When she has something to say, the whole street hears it!

Upon inspection, my sleep-eyed cat and I noted our neighbour of loud voice fame escorting workmen down to the bottom of her garden.

Shortly after 7am, said workmen, wearing hi-visibility yellow safety shirts and wielding large chainsaws, had shattered the peace of my last sleep-in before my family returns home today.

They’ve been hard at it all morning, firstly cutting down large limbs of trees, after which the wood is sawn up into fire-place sized chunks for my loud voiced neighbour’s stockpile of wood.

The lady with the loud voice arrived in our peaceful little street six or seven years ago. She purchased a quaint little cottage, built next door to our house at around the same time as we were building our house.

Although only a small two bedroom home, the first owners ensured that only the best quality bricks, timbers, tiles, etc. were used during construction.

Over the next few years the first owners worked tirelessly, spending every spare moment they could find, in planting trees throughout the garden…that would be the whole garden…every available inch of the one acre garden!

The fresh manure that they regularly dumped around any available space at the base of the trees worked wonders in helping the trees to grow…and grow…and grow…

To cut a long and sad story short, we lost the majority of our beautiful view of the Tweed Valley, and we spent a number of years living in the shadows of a veritable jungle.

We rejoiced when the “For Sale” sign appeared outside the house next door!

When the house was finally sold, the residents of the street all rejoiced!

Enter new loud voiced neighbour. Another tireless gardener, she really has worked wonders with the garden.

Huge expanses of neatly mowed grass can now be seen, edged by carefully constructed garden beds, which contain a variety of neatly pruned, flowering shrubs.

Our view is not fully restored to its former splendour, although my loud voiced neighbour has assured me that a lot of the trees remaining are still tagged to go. It all takes time, she assures me; time, and a bank load of money, to have those trees removed!

The trees she inherited with the purchase of her new home were never intended to be grown on a one acre block of land in a sleepy country village, nor should they have ever been considered for planting in such a situation as to prevent the enjoyment of an amazing view.

Some of the rainforest trees planted in our loud voiced neighbour’s yard are expected to grow up to two or three hundred feet in height!

Being in an area where we have regular electrical storms, I shudder to imagine the devastation just one of those trees could cause if struck by lightning, causing it to fall, as has been known to happen with smaller trees over the years we have lived in this area.

Just as soon as another tree is removed, our neighbour relaces it, with a suitable, lower growing tree. As I have said, she is an avid garden and opens her home and garden at least twice a year for the members of a local garden club to admire!

Yes, the hi-visibility shirt wearing, chainsaw-wielding men are still hard at it, shattering my peace, along with interjections of my loud voiced neighbour’s loud voice, conveying instructions to the workers.

And on this very rare occasion, it is all music to my ears!

Moral of the Story ~ Do the research first; plant trees in your garden which are suited to their environment. Your neighbours will love you for it!

(In the photo above, taken three years ago, much of the jungle has been cleared away, although plenty of work is still neccessary. Click on the photo to enlargen).

Uncategorized

On Being Alone, Without Being Lonely

“If you make friends with yourself you will never be alone.” ~ Maxwell Maltz.

The universe, in its infinite wisdom, has handed me, (on a silver platter!) the opportunity to have some time alone, at home, without leaving me so much as a vehicle in which to venture forth into the big, wide open expanse of the world.

Alone for three, maybe even four days.

No family to run around after. They have gone away.

It was mentioned in passing, almost as an obligation, that I may accompany them, if I so wished. They already knew my answer.

But why did they even bother asking, I wondered?

Let me consider for just a moment, which would I prefer? ~

  • Four days, baking on a beach, watching a surf carnival in the searing heat, sleeping in a communal room with maybe fifty other people (make that mostly noisy children and complete strangers!) on a camping air-bed, no electricity and an outside garden hose for a shower….OR
  • Time at home, alone, with my comfortable, familiar bed, and all modern conveniences?

You would be forgiven at this point if you are considering the possibility that I have absolutely no sense of adventure whatsoever. The truth of the matter is this ~

In the summertime, as people are flocking to the beach by the million, I favour the indoor life. The garden is my limit. I’m not, nor ever have been, a summertime beach-goer.

I prefer the beach during the winter!

If you are to believe the above quote from the author of the book “Psycho-Cybernetics”, Maxwell Maltz, (and I do!), I have made friends with myself.

I am not lonely, being alone, however I do have a problem.

What is one to do, when one’s list of what one would like to do when spending time in one’s own company, would cover a ten kilometre linear strip?

During this morning’s perusal of articles on the internet, I discovered an article of interest, written by a minimalist, who suggests writing a list of just the most important things you wish to accomplish.

If there are thirty things listed, halve it. Then cut it back some more, until there are just three items on the list.

Setting the task of accomplishing three tasks, one task at a time, is achievable.

The secret to achievement is to stay focussed on the task at hand. Do not become distracted by the phone, checking your emails or finding out what your friends are up to on Facebook.

I can do that. That’s the easy part.

However, how does one compact nearly twenty-six years of “want-to-do’s” into four days of alone time???

Old habits die hard and I am in danger of choosing firstly to vacuum the house and catch up on the ironing, however, I have resisted the temptation, whilst giving myself a well deserved pat on the back!

Three sub-headings seem appropriate….

Writing ~

1 – Work on a draft for all of the blog posts I have running around in my head. The words can be itemised into separate posts at a later date. Once the words are written, whilst uninterrupted, they are not left to memory, which can, at times, fail!

2 – Start up the new blog I have been toying with for a few weeks now, again drafting posts to be edited later.

Craft ~

1 – Finish the crochet project that my dear, departed Mum was working on over seventeen years ago. She would appreciate that!

2 – Finish the vivid blue scarf I began making for my daughter, two years ago. She would appreciate that!

3 – Work towards finishing some of the cross-stitch embroidery projects I have been working on for myself for, maybe, ten years. I would appreciate that!

Gardening ~

1 – Potter around the garden, removing any dratted weeds that have reared their heads during the recent weeks of rain.

2 – Prepare the ground for the new garden out the front, to run along the full length of the driveway and along the boundary between ourselves and our neighbour.

With three headings now prepared I will think no more. There is only so much one can fit into four days, even when one is alone!

(Photo credit for today goes to the unknown photographer who last summer took a photo of my surfie-son, alone on a board, face all zinced up, out in the Pacific Ocean somewhere. I have it on good authority that he was not too far from the shore!)