I'm talking of course about flight. The absolutely amazing parade of air creatures I witnessed as late afternoon sank lazily into evening, and the sun gave over control of the skies to the night shift, being the stars and the moon. And the day creatures made their exodus from the dying day to wherever it is they go while the darkness is here. A fascinating show.
I often say that I never get the time to just lie on a sun lounge in my back yard, and just be. So tonight, armed with a few books of course, I made my way out there. Coated in repellant of course, as a nod to those Queensland flyers that I hadn't come outside to enjoy the company of! Mosquitoes and midges, begone. I'm not your buffet tonight.
The first thing I realised is my back yard simply rocks as a bird watchers paradise! It's not big, by any means, and with a large sandy coloured tropical pool plonked right in the middle of it, heavily framed by lush foliage of all kinds; golden cane palms, foxtails, rainforest, flowering gums and, well, other trees I don't know the names of, not professing to be an arborist, there's not a lot of room left for much else. But there's lots of open sky above, and I noticed for the first time that it's a veritable superhighway up there for my feathered friends. I put down my book and laid back to study the sky, as the last rays of sunlight beamed onto the uppermost fronds of those glorious golden canes waving gently up there, in a breeze I simply couldn't feel on the ground. An interesting idea, seeing a breeze and not feeling it...
Every few seconds, something would fly over and by. Rainbow lorikeets, singly, in pairs, in fours, in larger groups. All heading west, and noisily! A stray magpie here and there. Some predominantly green birds with white bellies and long beaks, came to roost in the palms for a bit, and take turns enjoying a bath in the pool, shake their feathers, and rise up again to hang out to dry. A lone white cockatoo arrived to perch high in the tallest gum tree, making his raucous cry as he surveyed the underworld below that lofty perch of his, me included. I have hopes of seeing that elusive creature, the Black Cockatoo. I'm told they are everywhere. But I've never seen one. I hope to one day.
Over in the equally tall hoop pine which towers over my house, a big glossy crow was having a loud conversation with another crow that sounded quite distant. I could hear Hoop Pine Crow communicate his side of it, then he'd wait for the almost instant reply, listen, and then speak some more. And I noticed they never spoke over the top of each other, or out of turn. This civilised banter went back and forth for a good two minutes, at the conclusion of which he rose up into the air and also headed west, possibly to meet his friend.
Each species treats me to a sample of its own special language. Are they like humans, I wonder? Do they speak different dialects? They certainly sound that way. Are they like a huge vast cosmic roomful filled with Australians, Chinese, Germans, Indonesians and Arabs? All speaking at the same time, and nobody understanding each other.. and yet they have this common mission.. to head west. Does the Universe simply direct them, because they are not bogged down with the thoughts of a thinking being, and therefore they can simply feel the vibrations and know what they must do, and go forth and do it. Will they pass by here in the other direction at sunup?
About a minute later, I was treated to the sound of a big swoop of wings, and about ten long necked and legged ibises flew gracefully above me in tight formation, arrowing towards the river and the setting sun. That elicited a "Wow" from me, as by now I can't believe what I'm witnessing. It's another world up there, and tonight I'm part of it, simply because I've put my books down and there's no Apple item in sight. I have to do this more often.
A few more flutters, some more stray lorikeets (but quieter now) and the daylight is fast disappearing. A couple of ducks pass over now, beating their wings to meet their deadline. And I notice the first star come out, and it's bright, insistent, shining straight down on me. I think it's my mother, in fact I know it's her because that star is just so bright, just like her smile always was.. and she's smiling a massive cheeky shiny one at me, approving of what I'm doing tonight. This is our Now. I can feel myself smiling also, looking up at that bullish too early star twinkling up there, way before any others have turned on the lights. I start to search for the others. It is a clear warm velvety blue sky, and it is going to be one of those magical night skies "shot with stars." They are slow to come out, but... here they come. They arrive in a bunch; they are more reticent, subdued, but they are there, forcing their way through what's becoming an almost inky blackness. And the show still isn't over.
A cacophony of kookaburras has a loud group giggle over something. It's their party, and I'm lucky to get to hear it as I lie here. I'm waiting for the fruit bats now. I know they're coming, but of course I won't hear them. They will just suddenly start to fly over, their oh so silent wings cutting through the night air, bearing those furry streamlined bodies ever forward. Sometimes there's hundreds, maybe thousands. But tonight there's just two. Also headed west. It's gonna be standing room only in the West tonight, I think to myself.
I can just make out one adventurous feathered soul heading the other way, and I admire his alternative direction. He's not going to follow the mob, but is going to blaze his own path tonight. I wonder where he's going. Did he forget something perhaps? His partner, a piece of string, or his way?
The things you can wonder over and marvel at, when you allow yourself the time and space to do so...!
So it's dark now, and I pick up my pile of unread books, pat Boof on the head (he had been sitting beside me, holding my hand with his paw, which he likes to do when he hangs out with me; never worried or judgmental or analysing, because he's just being there, along with me, and he gets it. My little red dude is a cool guy, and hanging out in the moment is his craft. I learn a lot from looking at him also. Bless the beasts and the birds and the trees... we get to share their world and we are truly lucky when we can embrace it the same, beautifully simple way they do.
I'm thankful for the glorious hour I've just spent communing with nature, the stars, Mum and the Universe. And I'll be back to do it again real soon. It's the end of daylight saving tonight, and our part of the world is heading into its winter slumber. It's a time to rest, recoup, regenerate and reflect, count our many blessings and enjoy the slow and ever changing ride that is this wonderful world we hang out in for a while....
Till next time... Xoxx
