NESTING TIME
Often before bed, a
few minutes are spent out on the verandah enjoying the beauty of the
night. No lights are turned on, so the stars are in their full
splendour. Last night, the light of the full moon diminished the usual
number of stars. It was a glorious evening though. The full moon
shining through the mist, silhouettes of enormous gum trees sleeping in
her light. It was magic. The frogs singing by the creek added to this.
With so much going on with my work at the moment, I find I am getting up earlier and earlier, happily so. There is no pressure, only excitement. If I keep getting up any earlier though, I will be getting up before I go to bed!
Kookaburra laughter is the first sound of the day here, and in a lot of Australia. It echoes through a silent world about half an hour before all of the other birds wake. It is also the last sound you hear near sunset, again about half and hour after the other birds have settled in for the night.
So once that first kookaburra's laugh is heard, instead of smiling and rolling over, snuggling back in for a bit more sleep as usual, I am up in a flash, meditating, doing my yoga and out the door walking the paddocks.
Returning to country life was something that was always going to happen. But each day, I am more in tune with everything going on here as I move in time with the seasons. It is springtime now and glorious here. Driving up the road the other day, I saw a young cow licking her newborn calf as it tried to stand on its wobbly, little legs. New life is everywhere and it is beautiful.
The mulberry tree is starting to burst in its abundance. Every couple of days sees me with purple fingers as I stand underneath it eating them from the tree, never managing to bring any home as intended. But with mulberry trees, newborn calves, and spring growth, also comes swooping magpies. When they are in a good mood the song of the magpie is one of the most beautiful and unique sounds, which is about ten months of the year. They do have another sound though. It is their warning cry which can be heard from high in the gum trees for a couple of months, as they nest and fend off any other birds.
I understand they are just being mothers protecting their babes, but I wonder if they have to be so agro about it! Maggie attacks make the news every year as some poor person is minding their own business walking down the street, only to be swooped on by a maggie. Sometimes they only threaten but come close enough for the wind of their wings to brush your hair. Other times, they hit home, knocking you from behind on the head.
Apparently the trick is that they don't like eyes. And if you stare them out, they give up on their intended attack. This seems to work, although the staring out thing does come with a bit of a verbal warning from me. So I am not sure whether it is the eyes or the tone of my voice.
Different magpie mothers currently close in the cottage on three sides, so it is a case of having to endure that first one hundred metres in order to enjoy walking on the farm. This is even more important right now because walking will very soon be hindered by the arrival of snake season. So getting in as much walking is imperative for a lover of the activity.
So this morning after I come back from a beautiful, glorious wander, I go out to the laundry only to find that a nest from other birds has been built at the top of the mop, which hangs on the wall. Then these birds start hassling me, even inside my own home! The laundry door is permanently open, so I am not surprised to see wildlife has decided to benefit from it too. But can't they just lay off and stop hassling?! They are only little birds though and in truth, I am delighted they have nested there. It doesn't look like the floors will be getting washed until their babes hatch though. If I move the mop, the nest falls apart.
These are all small prices to pay though for the joy of living with the songs that the birds share. Each day I find my ears tuning into new sounds, more subtle or distant, until I am hearing the complete orchestra. It's beautiful, truly beautiful. If you have ever watched that wonderful film August Rush, you will appreciate the power of the ear and the music that nature offers. If you haven't seen the film, I recommend it highly (and even more so if you are a hopeless romantic).
The ear is a muscle that like any other gets better with use and training. Sitting here now on the verandah, the songs of at least ten different birds can be heard, as well as insects buzzing around in the spring sunshine and frogs singing. Is it any wonder babies live in a state of joy, free of busy thinking, simply enjoying the sounds around them?
A single red rose has bloomed on the old, wild bush in front of the cottage. Everything else is green, about fifty different shades of green. Mostly though, on this spring morning, it is the birds that have my attention.
Wherever you are right now in the world, I hope that man made sounds don't totally drown out the sounds of nature. Even in a city, there will still be a bird singing somewhere.
Today's article is just a simple appreciation for the beautiful planet we live on. I am blessed. We are all blessed.
Thank you for sharing this lovely morning with me. Happiness to you friends.
With so much going on with my work at the moment, I find I am getting up earlier and earlier, happily so. There is no pressure, only excitement. If I keep getting up any earlier though, I will be getting up before I go to bed!
Kookaburra laughter is the first sound of the day here, and in a lot of Australia. It echoes through a silent world about half an hour before all of the other birds wake. It is also the last sound you hear near sunset, again about half and hour after the other birds have settled in for the night.
So once that first kookaburra's laugh is heard, instead of smiling and rolling over, snuggling back in for a bit more sleep as usual, I am up in a flash, meditating, doing my yoga and out the door walking the paddocks.
Returning to country life was something that was always going to happen. But each day, I am more in tune with everything going on here as I move in time with the seasons. It is springtime now and glorious here. Driving up the road the other day, I saw a young cow licking her newborn calf as it tried to stand on its wobbly, little legs. New life is everywhere and it is beautiful.
The mulberry tree is starting to burst in its abundance. Every couple of days sees me with purple fingers as I stand underneath it eating them from the tree, never managing to bring any home as intended. But with mulberry trees, newborn calves, and spring growth, also comes swooping magpies. When they are in a good mood the song of the magpie is one of the most beautiful and unique sounds, which is about ten months of the year. They do have another sound though. It is their warning cry which can be heard from high in the gum trees for a couple of months, as they nest and fend off any other birds.
I understand they are just being mothers protecting their babes, but I wonder if they have to be so agro about it! Maggie attacks make the news every year as some poor person is minding their own business walking down the street, only to be swooped on by a maggie. Sometimes they only threaten but come close enough for the wind of their wings to brush your hair. Other times, they hit home, knocking you from behind on the head.
Apparently the trick is that they don't like eyes. And if you stare them out, they give up on their intended attack. This seems to work, although the staring out thing does come with a bit of a verbal warning from me. So I am not sure whether it is the eyes or the tone of my voice.
Different magpie mothers currently close in the cottage on three sides, so it is a case of having to endure that first one hundred metres in order to enjoy walking on the farm. This is even more important right now because walking will very soon be hindered by the arrival of snake season. So getting in as much walking is imperative for a lover of the activity.
So this morning after I come back from a beautiful, glorious wander, I go out to the laundry only to find that a nest from other birds has been built at the top of the mop, which hangs on the wall. Then these birds start hassling me, even inside my own home! The laundry door is permanently open, so I am not surprised to see wildlife has decided to benefit from it too. But can't they just lay off and stop hassling?! They are only little birds though and in truth, I am delighted they have nested there. It doesn't look like the floors will be getting washed until their babes hatch though. If I move the mop, the nest falls apart.
These are all small prices to pay though for the joy of living with the songs that the birds share. Each day I find my ears tuning into new sounds, more subtle or distant, until I am hearing the complete orchestra. It's beautiful, truly beautiful. If you have ever watched that wonderful film August Rush, you will appreciate the power of the ear and the music that nature offers. If you haven't seen the film, I recommend it highly (and even more so if you are a hopeless romantic).
The ear is a muscle that like any other gets better with use and training. Sitting here now on the verandah, the songs of at least ten different birds can be heard, as well as insects buzzing around in the spring sunshine and frogs singing. Is it any wonder babies live in a state of joy, free of busy thinking, simply enjoying the sounds around them?
A single red rose has bloomed on the old, wild bush in front of the cottage. Everything else is green, about fifty different shades of green. Mostly though, on this spring morning, it is the birds that have my attention.
Wherever you are right now in the world, I hope that man made sounds don't totally drown out the sounds of nature. Even in a city, there will still be a bird singing somewhere.
Today's article is just a simple appreciation for the beautiful planet we live on. I am blessed. We are all blessed.
Thank you for sharing this lovely morning with me. Happiness to you friends.
