Being mid-Summer in Australia we are celebrating Litha, the Summer solstice while the northern hemisphere celebrates Yuletide. Over the last few days the water temperature in the pool has been a comfortable 28-30oC.
Afternoons spent frolicking with the undines of the pool flow perfectly into evenings on the deck surrounded by the gnomes of the Earth while celebrating the salamanders by candlelight and honouring the sylphs of the air with sandalwood incense.
Blessed be to all.
I count myself fortunate to be able to enjoy the pockets of green in an urban landscape.
I feel drawn to places like this. While it appears to be the same each time I visit, there is always something I haven’t noticed before that captures my imagination.
Born on July, 1st, 2010, Stan’s loving, playful, bossy nature keeps us on our toes. His favorite toys are a platted rope and a ball that he will happily bring back when thrown, after he’s killed them of course. Stan positions himself close to us, facing out and is quick to alert us to potential visitors. He has an amusing way of alternately raising his eyebrows while lying close to the ground. We’re never quite sure if this is bemusement at our antics or a sign that he’s analyzing our behavior. Attentive and independent, Stan’s always ready for a tummy rub.
Imagine a tree with a trunk that twists this way and that, swathed in a maze of deeply cracked bark. It’s gnarled dark brown branches jut out in a contorted mass, effortlessly supporting clusters of ballerina shaped blooms gently bobbing in the breeze.
A gale develops that catches the branches, causing them to creak and groan as the blossom is torn from their grasp. A silky blizzard of white petals tinged with pink dance in downward spirals as they are carried to the ground by the whistling wind.
Order returns to this snow dome scene, the skeletal tree appears naked in the Spring light. Gently undulating white chiffon forms a shifting circle surrounding the base of it’s tortured bulk. White, fluffy powder puff shapes speed across the azure sky above.
refracted light
I have always enjoyed rainbows; it took a physics class for me to realise that they are created by light refracted through water droplets. I remember directing white light at a prism and being amazed at the colour spectrum emitted from the other side.
magic bathroom
This fascination sparked my interest in candle magic, auras and chakras. I count myself fortunate to live in a house that has a leaded, coloured glass window in the bathroom. Some of the clear glass panels have bevels that catch the bright northern light (southern hemisphere) and project rainbows onto the white porcelain fittings and tiles. The effect is heartening and magical.
Birthday baking at Brasserie Bread
I enjoy food, especially when created from scratch containing whole-foods. A work colleague asked me whether I had done any baking recently, when I replied no, she said that must be disappointing for me. When I explained that I had been spending time writing, she said “you can’t eat words”.
Hmm could this be the answer to weight loss?
Hunter’s moon
Acting on impulse I left the warmth of the house, to capture an image of serenity. Diluted fluffy white clouds against an inky sky. Flare from an exterior light. An itchy mozzie bite to remind me of where I live.
Spring, through the window
One of my favourite spots to sit and contemplate the World is at the kitchen table looking South. The view is by no means unencumbered. The lower half of the sash window is at the perfect level to gaze over the boundary fence toward a federation house. While I find the style of house aesthetically pleasing, it is typical for the suburb. In the warmer weather the occupants enjoy a smoke on the front porch. The height of the weathered timber, boundary fence has its benefits; I can’t see passersby or vehicles using the relatively quiet street.
A clue to the time of the year takes the form of the bloated trunk and branches of a frangipani tree standing within the boundary of the house across the road. For a couple of months it had stood bare, a skeleton of its potential glory. The Spring Equinox was on the 23rd September, since then the tree’s small, shiny, elongated buds have been replaced by a scattering of vibrant, olive green, surfboard shaped leaves.
By looking up slightly I can see the sky above the house. An electricity carrying cable sheathed in a yellow and black, diagonal striped cover is the only obstruction to a clear view of the sky. It reminds me that although Australia is considered a developed country, underground power cables are mostly a thing of tomorrow.
Where do you like to sit? What can you see?
I smell the intoxicating scent before seeing a backdrop of shiny, viridian leaves. A myriad of five petalled stars tumble in a frothy wave towards the ground. The intense fragrance hammers my sinuses. Spring is truly here.
Lack of a clear direction
Do you ever feel like you are trapped in a maze?
You can’t see, touch, smell, taste or feel it, yet you know that its there?
Does the maze adapt and evolve to contain and prevent you from finding your way?
Is there an invisible bond that pulls you back in?
How many dimensions does the maze have?
Are the routes straight, curved or spiralling?
Do you glimpse alternate paths and places?
Is it a maze within a maze?
How do you escape?
Is it light or dark?
Are you alone?
