Nature's Place

Gently raining, small drops. Wind blowing a little. And all the Swallows parked on the wire, or is it Swift’s. It must be a pleasure for them or why not find shelter, there may be a good reason. Maybe their wings are not suited to maneuvering among the branches. They do build mud nests after all. In accessible, to them, places.

There are a few of the Magpie Lark’s, or Pee Wee’s as they are commonly known, come to harass the swallows. But they are just not fast enough. The Swallows scatter in all directions and the others can’t keep up. They are just trying for an easy bite to eat I reckon. There are a few other pied birds about. The Butcherbird and the Magpie. Anything that can be eaten is fair game if it can be caught.

Walking in the light rain today reminded me of the child I was in Dublin so many tears ago. I used to spend a lot of time ‘outside’. It was a gentle soaking I got. Hat, shirt and flipflops is what I wore. It was cool but not cold and the small creatures were not deterred.

There were yellow butterflies, dragonfly’s and a few birds and other creatures. But no mozzies. And all the little toads, or is it frogs, jumping around the place and out from where my feet are about to land.

The camera isn’t waterproof so I didn’t take it with me today. The wind was from the south and I stayed in the bush to walk against it and came back along the beach to walk with it. I still got soaked.

The sea was almost warm after the day and nights rain. That’s because the rain is warmer than the sea and the warmer water sits on the colder water. I’d say it’s warmer because it’s closer to the sun. It’s how the water got to be rain in the first place.

Eventually the heat and cold will equalize, mix, until the water is uniformly one thing or the other, cold or warmer. It’s the way of things that without the contrast we wouldn’t notice, anything. If everything was the same temperature, or colour, or shape we wouldn’t know the heat or cold of it.

The difference is where we get our sense of self, me, not me. What that self is depends on the heat or cold of it. It’s a matter of degree. But heat always rises.

I was looking out the kitchen window earlier and I saw a Rosella balancing on the barbed wire fence. It was eating grass seed at the top of long stems so the fence was a good place to reach it from. I crept out the back door, slow and quiet so the little beauty wouldn’t see or hear me.

The light was poor but I’m not too concerned with what is called good photography or not, I just do the best I can with what I’ve got. No problem, and some lovely pictures. She, I’m sure it was she, stripped one stem of grass of its seeds and moved on to the next.

And the next. Moving along the wire towards me as she did. She was distracted by her food, a potentially fatal attraction. Until she was so close she couldn’t miss me taking pix and off she went. Jump, swoop and flap flap flap into the distance.

I have seen a pair of Rosella’s out on the wire fence lately, I wonder if she’ll be back with her mate?

All copyright reserved / Mark Berkery