This morning I awake to dawn in the city. It’s 4:44 am. The past two mornings I woke to a country dawn. The birds chatting. Different birds in the country. Pink and Grey Galahs greeted me the past two mornings. Today, well despite my parents being avid bird watchers, I am not sure which birds are around. The sky is grey, overcast and cloudy. It’s Spring. But Queensland’s weather is very different to Perth. My son has just crawled into bed. The perils of shift work throw human biorhythms out of synch. For years I wished I was a dawn person, battling to rise before the sun. Now this is normal for me. Problematic when I want to snooze mid-morning or early afternoon at work tho.
Early morning is magickal, wherever I am. The smell of the fresh earth, especially after rain overnight. The rapidly changing sky, lightening the earth. The sound of birds waking, chatting, greeting the day in search of breakfast. Dew on the grass. Light breezes. Watching the sky change is incredible. It fills the soul. The first rays of the sun as it rises in the east. Ready to light our world. When the sun peaks over the horizon, begins its visible ascent into the sky, and the rays touch my physical being, it’s breath-taking. Years ago a friend shared with us a dawn meditation. I battled to get out of bed to partake. Now, although not doing the full meditation, I still recall the morning greeting. Feeling the suns rays fill my body and soul, cleansing, warming, enlightening and invigorating. Preparing for a new day. The wonder of standing in country as the sun drenches my being is beyond description. Pure feeling. Pure wonder. The wonder of being alive, blessed by the earth and nature and the beauty of its majesty.
Behind my parents house is a number of newly built houses. Incomplete, unoccupied. Waiting for roads, connections, and people to buy. Investment properties. The rent is cheap, the houses themselves comparatively inexpensive. Memerambi has a population of about 100 people. 10 minutes away from thriving, rapidly growing Kingaroy, in the heart of peanut country. Rich, red fertile earth. 3 hours across the Great Dividing Range from Brisbane. Thistles abound everywhere. Their seeds blown across the lawn, like fairy wings. But they are weeds. Problematic. Food for the galahs who have moved in. The land cleared, the wrens have moved on. Progress. Slow at times. Rapid at others. But the sky remains, ever-changing, wide overhead.
Of course, when I’m up at tiny Memerambi with my parents, I cart my cameras with me, everywhere. At times the morning provides a treasured sight. Other times the sun remains hidden behind grey clouds. Either way it’s spectacular.
Waking the first morning, galahs lined the fence line. The second morning they were feasting amidst the thistle. How I would have loved a telephoto lens. It’s becoming more of a must buy for me.
Early morning tracks through the grass
Peaking out behind the houses, the sun begins his ascent
First rays begin to spread
The rays warming, enlivening
Bursting through the sun greets me
Casting his rays wide, the sun begins to cover the earth
Throwing morning light on the waiting trees
Gathering together, pink and grey Galahs line the fence
Breakfast time among the thistles
Soft pink and grey, the undercarriage is vibrant pink.
How I would love a good telephoto lens
Overseeing the morning, a solitary crow
Sunday morning, cloud filled skies
Like fairies, thistle seeds scatter the grass.