SUNSET THINKING

 

As the sun sets behind her, she is thinking. Thinking of all the little wonders around her – the dog, the sister, the people she loves in her life. She spots a bird, an ant, a footprint in the dirt.

She asks questions. She is four. She asks LOTS of questions.

Why are those trees knocked down?

Why do we need oxygen?

What’s that orange stuff growing in Daddy’s paddock?

How do you know he had a dog that bit someone on the bum?

Where was I when my big sister was born?

What do you mean I wasn’t here yet?

Where was I?

Was I visiting Maa Maa & Grandad?

What are those insects doing?

What’s your favourite colour?

Are you old?

How much longer do I have to wait to get a new number?

When will I be a grown up?

 

Hmmm, what does the future hold?  I’m much older than four and I still don’t know. I’m not sure anybody ever does….

But, she can dream. She dreams BIG.

RUN THE WIRE

Today the sky is blue. The clouds are thick. White. The Buffel looks like discarded straw. Moisture is minimal.

The fence stands strong. Four barbs with wooden posts in the black soil. It stands strong, against the odds.

If that fence could talk, what would it say?

In recent years it could describe the Station employees and their work ethics. The colour of their shirts as they bounce past on the nearby track, one elbow protruding from the window frame as they casually rest their hand on the steering wheel.

It could use several kinds of adjectives, I’m sure – to describe what it has seen – heard on the wind and carried from the nearby shed and its activities.

In the mornings, and again in the afternoon, it watches a frazzled parent, relative or Nanny high-tailing it to meet the school bus. The tell-tale signs of the rush out the door still etched in the furrow of the driver’s brow. The youngest of the children probably wave….or smear Vegemite on the window – Same! Same!

It silently counts the increase in traffic as the local mining industry booms. Bitumen over yonder would be nice. Less dust to be collected in my splintering Gidgee.

The seasons pass. Not four, but two. It’s hot or it’s cold. There’s not much in between.

The fence stands strong. Four barbs with wooden posts in the black soil. It stands strong, against the odds.

IT’S DRY

It’s dry.

The cattle are thirsty.

The wheat can’t put down more roots.

It’s dry.

If the skies don’t open, life on the land goes on, as best it can.

If the skies do open, life goes on. But there’s more of it.

More greenery, more progeny. More miracles of the bush that we don’t always see but often hear – The birds in the trees, the koalas near the creek. There are old red kangaroos lounging in the shade.

More smiles of wonder on little human faces as they notice more of life all around them.

We want rain. We will survive without it, for a little while longer, but we’d be more content if it came……

Though, drought is a less expensive form of weed control, I suppose.

WHEN WALLY GROWS UP….

 

The life of a dog is not complete without space to roam and follow all the smells to their source. Without mud to romp in, grass to roll in and water to splash in, how can a dog truly be content?

An urban dog might spy freedom between the fence palings or veer occasionally from the concrete path depending on the length of his lead. But a working dog earns his keep, is worth three paid humans at least and is respected for his wit and intelligence.

When Wally grows up, he wants to be a Labrador. He watches the retired yellow pet in his ageing years and thinks he’s got life sorted. First dibs on the scraps, comfy bed by the front door. Nothing bothers him and he doesn’t listen. He dozes all day and snores all night. Perfect!

But first, Wally must earn his stripes. He is a pup. He is agile. He is kind natured with good blood lines. His parents have proven themselves worthy of the game and learnt their lessons well. Soon it will be his turn to ‘step up’ to the fence that bounds the yards. To tail the weaners and muster the steers. It will be Game On! But not without some practice.

Luckily for Wally, his apprenticeship involves plenty of belly rubs and food treats. Soft grass to play and Little People to chase around the slide. He bounds at our feet at his meal time and sits quietly in hope at our meal time.

He is endearing, he is obedient. He is Wally :)

 

#DearLittlePeople

Dear Little People

I love you more than….

All the stars in the sky.

All the fish in the sea.

All the sand on the beach.

All the leaves on all the trees.

All the hair on your head.

All the teeth in your face.

All the spots on your flannelette pyjamas.

All the stripes on your blanket.

All the hay the Alpacas can eat.

I love you more than you could ever possibly imagine……it’s so true!

Love Me
xx

THE NIGHT CIRCUS | BY ERIN MORGENSTERN

 

THE OFFICIAL BLURB:

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway—a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battle of imagination and will. Despite themselves, however, Celia and Marco tumble headfirst into love—a deep, magical love that makes the lights flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

True love or not, the game must play out, and the fates of everyone involved, from the cast of extraordinary circus performers to the patrons, hang in the balance, suspended as precariously as the daring acrobats overhead.

 

MY GLIMPSE:

If The Night Circus were a person, I’d be tempted to call it eccentric. There is definitely a whimsical flare of underlying ‘quirky’…. But because it is a novel, I will call it instead, ‘clever’.

It is definitely clever. The magic, the challenge, the venue for the competition, the hidden love story. I feel sorry for the victims who were made collateral along the way but I like that the girl could be a hero for those who needed her.

The Night Circus is not for everyone but it does highlight a different perspective on how and who your actions effect and the consequences of said actions, big or small….

 

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