Nature's Place

There Is No Such Thing As ‘Just’ A Bee …

There is the magical messenger of the spiritual Earth, carrying the music of creation from flower to flower until the symphony is complete and the mind of Man is at peace.

And when will that be? Well, there is only one ‘real’ time. More real.

It comes down to what you give your attention to – first.

No ‘pop’ religion intended. ((:


A nomad bee from a nearby field at sundown on a cloudy afternoon.

Little beauty, to me.

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge



… is now.

And the Lord said “Let there be Light”, and there was light enough to reveal the earth, here and now. And there ‘was’ movement – of form – on the face of the deep – non existence.

As the pre-born bee stirs towards existence, coming slowly into its senses – the same ones as you and me in the morning – it reaches a point that must be called born. Warm and blind in the darkness of its solitary being, sound and smell rapidly expand as it breaks the curtain of its leafy cocoon and light strikes its eye for the first time, as the hammer to a bell.

The light of the sun, father of earth, strikes the centre of intelligence bee is and instinct turns to action and quickly comes to speed for the prevailing conditions of sense.

What, what is this new world to me? Sense, form and function, what else?

And something to do. What beeings do, of course.

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge


The Mythical Bunyip Of Oz …

… of Aboriginal lore, or Koori as I believe they prefer to be called. Said to inhabit swamps, creeks, waterholes – anywhere there is water really. Apparently the native Australians held this entity or creature in awe and dread and could never tell the white man its form or character, though the white man tried to rationalise it no end – no way.

These are just one of its many forms and its character is represented in the colours of Aus, where life is there will be the Bunyip in some form and colour.

The spirit behind, the nature and teacher of man.

Well, now we know for sure one of its forms since I caught it on camera, two in fact, quick shots as it was a precarious position hanging over the railing. I would say it is the water spirit and reaches into the land of Aus the way blood permeates the body and its character is one commanding respect for the Earth but especially water in all its forms and functions as it is the basis for life emergent.

And woe-betide anyone who dares ignore its telling of lore – the fact and truth of life – through experience and negation.

Anyway, I found these two Bunyips beside a bridge in a local rainforest garden. They were just standing in the shadows of a darkening afternoon saying nothing in particular, hearing the colourful birds chattering their day’s events to each other before sleep, tasting the coming rain, feeling the wind on their faces. Clouds rolling in.

It was time to go.

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge


Pearls of Clarity

Falling with ease, tumbling, colliding, splashing big soft drops that soak in as they hit and drench in the beat of a wing, cool summer rain. Wonderful wet washing water from the sky. What an amazing thing that is.

Tup, tup, tup on the big broad leaves of the palm trees outside my window. Crashing into green. Leaves bounce as they are hit and rain water rolls down and drips off to explode and soak into the earth below. Life to some thing, many things. Death to others.

Wonder, wonder, wonder. The way things are in existence, how every thing is separate but fits exactly where it is in the web of form and function that is nature. Reflective of the vitality below, above the formlessness that powers it all.

And here I am sitting on top looking ‘down’ with nowhere to go but back, back home.

Or … What is left to do, for a wet bee.

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge


Mystic Nomad

Nomadic by nature, doesn’t mean they have no home. Any place is home to a nomad as long as their need is filled. And in the filling of their need Nature’s need is filled, they are not separate.

One need fits to another the way a tree does to the Earth, as all things fit to some thing at some time.

There is an out-of-the-way place where these little beauties go to sleep at night. I am the only one I know of that goes there and I can’t see that changing. It’s a small clearing in the middle of a field at the edge of a forest and off the beaten track. It is a special place for these beautiful creatures.

Towards the end of their day they fly in and circle their favoured roosting site, a dried out grass stem in this case. They land at the top of the stem, as far from the ground as possible and grip it in their jaws as they settle in for the night, face to the ground – usually, but there’s always the odd one.

Face down, probably because that is the direction danger would most likely come from while they sleep, it’s a defensible position and can easily be abandoned if necessary. It just makes sense to have your array of detection senses, antennae, eyes, mouth and feet facing any danger.

I often watch them at dusk as they jostle for position on the twig, seeming to prefer to join up from above, makes sense as they fly in from above. When one does there is a pushing and shoving with legs and jaws, from the front and back, but no violence, as positions are adjusted to fit the newcomer.

At times dislodging one or another so it flies off the twig and comes in from behind again and the process begins over until there’s not enough light and they have settled positions for the duration of the dark hours, it takes a little time to get to sleep time.

It looks comical and sweet at the same time, innocent, and makes me smile, what a wonderful nature we have.
They are not unlike children in their innocence, and how they might sleepily jostle for space in a bed they share.


It’s a popular place for the little creatures, with native bees and wasps of different kinds making a home of it, a safe harbour to rest at night. Care must be taken not to blunder into a wasp nest or disturb the roosting bees, don’t want to get stung or intrude. I approach the bees slowly, careful not to strike their perch or loom threateningly over them.

It’s not a hunt, it’s a prayer.

There are times when it seems my presence at a metre or so is enough to disturb them, and times when they seem fast asleep while the sun is still up and I can shoot away to my hearts content.

They live their little lives noticed by few but their own sweet selves, but are well accounted for in the tapestry of nature. Little weavers of life that they are.

Their big green eyes and long white furry manes, specks of pollen showing where they’ve been. A tale yet to be told.

Without them we would surely be less.

Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge

Tick Tick

Gi’s a hug!


Nobody’s favourite animal, the tick. Except another tick, maybe.

This one is in shock after I brought it from upstairs wrapped in a tissue. It had hitched a ride home on my clothes and lucky enough I saw it before it dug in. Not so lucky a couple other times recently when one had dug in, hip and back of head. These ticks can cause paralysis and death if left long enough, the former would not be nice. The odd thing is you don’t feel them until they are dislodged and the site becomes swollen, itchy and often a running sore from some exotic bacteria.

You can see its eating gear between the two flaps, it looks to have serrated or barbed edges that make it easy to get in and difficult to get out. The flaps to either side open out for it to insert into the body and suck away, and deliver a neurotoxin at the same time. This one is a mother too.

I have seen them in the long grass, sitting at the tip with outstretched ‘arms’ waiting to embrace some passerby. These creatures have such a grip they won’t be flicked off easily, like Velcro, something to do with the little white pads on the end of the legs – I reckon.

Ambush parasites, relentless and tenacious – that’s just nature, at times – our nature. If you walk in the rainforest, or the concrete jungle, it’s only a matter of time before one grabs you – if you need the experience.

Everything has its place in our nature, that’s for sure.

You just have to deal with it when it bites. ((:

© Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge

Except another tick, maybe.

Sweetie the Lizard

A beauty, isn’t she. Black eyed beauty. I found her under an old fallen log in the woods after the rain and she was struck still, for a few shots. Little finger thick and five inches long her friends and relatives are more usually gone as soon as I lift the wood.

There is a certain pleasure in the silent communication that is in the meeting of two creatures, me and her, where no offense is given or received. A simple pleasure, a simple good found only in nature – in my experience.

It is also my experience that wanting, no matter what, leads to the trouble – the conflict of looking to what is not now. A fundamental division of being that is inevitably known as pain. To realise unity, being one, not two.

But, perhaps, having given up wanting enough, it is possible to want the simple good without the conflict of division. More a kind of realisation or acknowledgment than wanting.

Then how to want rightly, if such a thing can be. We’ll see.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge

Civilized Ant

Travelling along an old rotting tree that had fallen in the forest, these gentle silver-backed ants. To get them to slow down I gave them a drink. They loved it and also took time to groom themselves, time out from the incessant but unhurried search for food to survive – among their other daily doings.

It’s not all work, to live as long as possible without a wasted effort, just to survive. The simple pleasure of a walk in the woods, or a drink of water without consideration of significance or consequence – real civilization.

The beast, with always an eye on a different moment to now, brought home to the being of sense from the frenzy of mind.

These ants know something, even if they don’t know they know it.

Relaxed is the way to enjoy the simple life.

Truly Civilized Ant. ((:

© Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge

Fly on Mushroom – Yum!

With the afternoon sun streaming through the trees, and after a few days rain, the mushrooms had pushed their way through the settled soil and grass. Not a lot of them, but enough to notice. And some bugs noticed too.

This fellow had commandeered the cap of this one and was chasing any intruders off with a virtuosity, perfect flight control. It is a pleasure to watch such mastery of the wing at work and play.

Have you ever seen bugs at play? Have you noticed they do?


Bugs are not the dumb creatures they are often taken for. They do have their own simple intelligence, according to their form and function. Not unlike us people. They sense, and in their way they know what they need to know.

Chase off that intruder. Need for a pee or a poo. Time to eat or sleep. And time to mate. And die, just like us.

And there is always that ‘something else’ that may emerge. A little creativity perhaps. A little god. Just like us.

In a flash of colour and form, or graceful dance. A little beauty.

Just like us.


Unlike us they don’t have or make a problem of any of it.

Intelligent little bugs.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge