The NR runs right down to the beach at Wooyung which is where I went in from today. It’s a lovely meandering walk twisting this way and that so I can’t really see what’s coming up round the bend till I get to it. I enjoy that, the unfoldment of the trail, one bend at a time.
Expectation, knowing, takes the mystery out of it. And the trail without mystery is mere mechanics.
There are a number of pools on the track as wide as it in places and ruts, sand and mud. It is lined with all sorts of plants and flowers, wild ones. And really rough in places, pleasing to me. Natureful.
A ways in on the right is the old sand mine which is now a big hole in the ground filled with water and alive with plants and animals, lizards, birds, snakes and things. Though it is still too cold for much activity the birds are ever visible in their search for food. Tis a delight to watch the little ones when they get close enough to discern the action, seeking out the tiny creatures they often survive on.
Further on I turned right into a field of reeds, a boggy area with wallaby tracks criss-crossing it. I had to step carefully in places not to sink in the sodden soil, mud and peat. An open expanse of reeds and grass tufts bordered by trees of all kinds, the Aussie kind.
This is where I found the Violet, if that’s the right name. So far I have only found it in the one place, shaded and off the beaten track. You have to really look to find some of the flowers pictured here. They are often so small and quiet – is the word – and hidden, they are easy to overlook.
In another place I came across a bee reveling in a big yellow flower. I have never seen a bee spend so much time in one place. It went busily round and round the cluster of stamen and seemed to be just tucking in with wild abandon, oblivious to the observer. Scrambling, bumbling. Feasting in the afternoon sun.
Pollen, or honey heaven to a bee.
Another bee came along and tried to push his way into the flower but the first wasn’t having it. There was an exchange of loud buzzing and a bit of pushing until the newcomer buzzed off to another flower. It must have been a good one, flower that is.
It was delightful to see the vigorous engagement of the bee with the flower. Almost making love, you might say. Bees love flowers, especially fresh ones.
Later, as the sun was going down, I was returning home along the same trail and noticed a few small flowers I haven’t seen before. With a few tiny visitors, invisible to the unaided eye – mine anyway. The light was low enough to need the flash to capture the image.
All things have their place, an integrity that serves in the particular which serves the whole. Sometimes a little science enables a clearer, sharper reflection.
And balance is preserved no matter what.
Copyright Reserved / Mark Berkery