, , , , ,

I spent the morning in a brain fog that simply left me feeling zombie-like. It was just the tiredness that accompanies fibromyalgia but nonetheless, immobilising. At 9am I had a nap. It was a dreaming sleep that removed the fog, if not completely restoring my sense of self. Restful and adequate sleep has eluded me most of the last 20 years. Some days I can nap and compensate but others life demands more from me. 

None of my creative endeavours will flow when I am in deep, sleep deficit. Just over a week ago I received notice from WordPress that my subscription was due, so I renewed. And then wondered why? I sometimes go ages without the muse visiting me, or without being able to act upon it when she does, because my brain is so tired it simply doesn’t want to play.

But here I am clicking along on the keyboard after my dreamy nap, wanting to tell you that there is still magic in life. That is always my intention, though my writing skill may not always accomplish the goal.

We seem to have dodged another bullet…or two. Last week we were in Adelaide, primarily for me to have my yearly oncology check. As the years tick by and things remain clear I sometimes wonder if this is a waste of resources to keep checking. But it is part of the self-care we need to do for both mental and physical reasons, not just for ourselves but for those who love us. This year was particularly difficult to organise due to Covid restrictions and regulations, but we did it…a few months late, but we did it. The bright spot is that we always get to visit with our daughter who lives in Adelaide when we go for the appointment. And that is never a small thing. A parent loves to see with their own eyes that their child, who has been through a difficult time, is doing well.

We always enjoy our time in Adelaide, good food, coffee, a little shopping, a little nature, more coffee, and a change of scenery.

This time we also enjoyed new street art that has appeared and enlivens the place.

After a couple of days in the city, I usually feel the need to get closer to nature. A botanic garden is seldom far way here. It was such a lovely morning spotting all kinds of native and wild flowers and plants, as well as some exotics. As we were leaving the Mt Lofty Botanic Garden something called me to look back, and up, the way you feel when someone across the room is staring your way. When I turned around there were eyes looking at me…from trees. Do you see them? Thinking I might be the first weirdo to have seen this, I photographed them. Turns out an Australian, artist Joshua Yeldham, observed the same thing in Aspen trees of Colorado. I have only today learned of the trees and his short film, called ‘Providence’. It was a tiny little gift to see this after having that recent experience. Had I not seen the eyes with my own, I might not have believed him when he spoke of feeling the woods looking at him. These marks are made when a limb falls off. What if the woods can see us, but by means we are yet to understand? Read The Hidden Life of Trees if you think I’m being silly. I would almost believe anything is possible after reading this.

On Wednesday, November 11 we returned home. Four days later it was announced there was a new Covid outbreak in Adelaide, where previously there had been no community transmission since April. It has now been a week since our return and we appear to have once again had good juju on our side. Yesterday we have learned of the hard lockdown of Adelaide for six days, in an effort to create a ‘circuit breaker’ and keep the virus from becoming transmitted more widely. It was brought into Australia by a person traveling from the UK and the strain is a different one than we have previously had. It appears to infect people more easily and make them infectious to others more quickly. It began in a quarantine hotel, probably from a contaminated surface, and then transmitted to a large family group. Tracing practice is gold standard and they are on top of it, but things are changing daily, of course. With holidays nearly upon us…we wait…and hope. Our governments, both state and national have looked after us during this time. That is no small thing either.

Meanwhile, I have harvested my first cherry tomato. A very small pleasure, to be sure, but very enjoyable. The garden is demanding regular care and attention at the moment as our temps hit the 40’s (105F-111F) last week. The pests are out and have my juicy morsels in their sights! I have erected shade cloth and added more watering to my schedule. The promised rain did not reach us here in town, but 15 kilometres away at the airport, where the official gauges are, they measured 14mm. Who said nature was fair? We have had more dust and hot, dry winds. With the din of cicadas whirring at high pitch, The Apocalypse is seeming more possible.

Those three small falcons that hatched high atop a sky scraper in Melbourne six weeks ago, are no longer small. The day before we left for Adelaide they looked decidedly ugly, but on our return they had nearly finished with their downy feathers, looking as if they had put on fine suits to attend their launch into the world. The next day…they were gone. I miss them, but am so happy to have seen them grow and that all three survived is a testament to the miracle of nature.

November 5, and one week later they were gone.

There is always a small thing to be grateful for, whether it is the sleep of dreams, the miracle of nature or a small red orb that disappears in a single juicy mouthful, pungent with the warmth of summer sun and dispensing childhood memories.

Appreciating small things is no small thing.