A Colourful Garden
It has been very cold at night in Wooyung but soon after sunrise, say a couple of hours, it is warm and sunny. Beautiful weather.
Early in the morning the pollen collectors and nectar eaters are in the garden checking out the flowers for something to take home. Or to take them to the next feeding place.
Bees, Birds, Hoverfly’s, Wasps, Flies, Butterfly’s. There is the appearance of inactivity in the cold of this winter but it is relative – in the mind.
Dandelion’s are most profuse at the moment, having been let grow for some time, beautiful yellow – leaf green yellow. And all the other flowers you see, I can’t remember names.
What can survive the cold of night does so well for the golden sunlight during the day and the ever present moisture from condensation – the nights gift to the day.
It is really quite deep, green, golden natureful. Red. Yellow. Beauty. Simple colour, texture, sound.
Sense. Beautiful sense.
It is a pleasure examining the nature for inclusion here. To acknowledge the beauty the sense of nature is – is to acknowledge the purity of the psyche that nature is inside.
Acknowledgement occurs inside. And the more I do it the less of the ‘other’ there is. Subject to testing, of course.
Want to know the sound of self dying? It is the same old stuff of unhappiness, in all the forms you know. Culminating in, ‘There’s something wrong here!’ No need to name it any more than that.
As long as I don’t grip it in belief I pass on through. Or it passes on through. Either way it dies.
In the end. Where endings happen.