In a world that daily diffuses our concept of value and holds our focus hostage if we’re not vigilant, I’m passionate about the truth of the wild and the remedial effects it has on our souls and the respite it offers our overloaded minds. Surviving in nature cannot be faked. We cannot live off the identities we create for ourselves. We’re not at the top of any man-made, civilised food chain rolling around in a safety net of certainty and comfort. We’re part of an intricately designed eco-circle, an ancient land, holy waters, rich with power, history and culture, frontiers of potential and unknowns. I love that. We all ache for truth on some level, and many of us lose ourselves searching for it in the wrong places. It’s hard not to fall in love with our planet when we’re immersed in its splendours, and if we want it to last for generations, it’s going to take A LOT of love.
I want to pique the interest of my teenage friends, our precious youth, some of whom are doing it pretty tough, not so they look at me, but so they might pause their troubles and dream about their own “river”. I want to lead by example for my sons. I want to offer a perspective for women, particularly for mothers. Having children is challenging, but dreams don’t die when a mother is born, they’re only just beginning- because we understand having a reason to fight and no time to waste. One thing I firmly believe is that we can’t possibly teach if we stop learning. And one of my greatest teachers of all continues to be my Mother : Nature.
Yes! I stumbled across a frogmouth a couple of nights ago, whilst photographing the Milky Way, what a weird, wonderful and slightly adorable creature! Then, last evening I observed two galahs preening, the body language between the two was such that it was clear they were in a relationship. I know we must be careful not to anthropomorphise, but looking at them it was a reminder of what depth exists in the animal kingdom, who’s to say love doesn’t exist in the avian world. I later read that galahs mate with the same bird for life, similar to the albatross, I wasn’t surprised in the least. Just this afternoon I spotted an Eastern Rosella from the kitchen window whilst doing the dishes, an unexpected treat; the technicoloured flash couldn’t fail to add a dash of joy to a mundane task, concurrently bringing a smile to my face! What a wonderful world we live in, nature is more surprising, more beautiful, more beguiling, more improbable, more gentle, more powerful than anything synthetic. And let us not forget humans are animals too!
Al ~ you paint in the most moving hues, stirring beauty in me…that I feel profoundly grateful for. Your curiosity is masterful, your embroidery of meaning in the mundane, artisanal. Thank you so much for taking the time to sketch this beauty. You would so love the birdsong that carried me down the river. Voices, so many symphonic voices, so many I had never heard before. There is a special species of kingfisher that makes its home in the banks of the first third of the river. It is toffee and turquoise and nests in tiny burrows, excitedly darting from branch to branch before hiding again. I only ever saw one bird at a time. And each time the tiny creature would fly from its nest on my approach, land on a branch, pirouette joyfully before flying to the next branch and replicating the dance before moving on, often three or so more times, before hiding again. It had the moving effect of making me feel as though the one tiny bird was accompanying me the entire way down. I loved it, or rather ~ them, with all my heart.