Shoreline

The tender moments between sleeping and waking … a shoreline of sorts … when sleep has been deep and untroubled and waking is equally quiet and calm. A slippage between states. A visceral satisfaction with the heart at rest and the mind quietly attentive to first waking impressions – air on skin, bird sound, light permeating consciousness. Then the unfurling awareness of the accumulating sounds of the natural world creating a more complex ambient environment. It is Sunday and the last day of the year. No traffic sounds permeate my waking ears. If I listen closely sometimes I am sure I hear the ocean lapping. Birds, I realise, are my companions. My chosen companions. Their wildness beguiles and inspires me. I have two water dishes, front and back to entice them. The dish facing the park is visited all day by crows, magpies, magpie-larks, honey eaters, wattle birds, doves, and seasonally pink & grey galahs. Kookaburras hold their distinguished distance! A plethora of birds, some of whom I am sure know my voice and presence. Especially the crows, who eye me intently as they perch on the fence or pergola before descending to drink. A very special moment was seeing a crow have a bath in a large shallow black bowl filled with water, very close to my living room window. Intended as an aesthetic addition to my garden not a bird bath! What does the crow care? One day I witnessed an astonishing playful vision … a crow was plunging in and then perching on the edge over and over for a full immersion bath! Clearly enjoying the experience which they repeated many times to my delight. The dish facing into the central space is not visited by birds, but bees enjoy the water and the respite. I had no idea that bees need water also – why not? However yesterday an astonishing clarion sound pierced my home from the direction of the front courtyard. When I ventured to look there was a willy wagtail perched on the edge of the water dish and singing in full voice the most gorgeous song. I always remember my sister Phillipa telling me that Daisy Utemorrah (indigenous author, poet and community leader from Mowanjum), told her the wagtail is the messenger bird. So little bird what message do you have for me or for us at this time in our turbulent world?