Coming back to the wild

It seems I’ve been away a while, and yes I have. Away writing essays and away living a busy grand-mothering role and then….away to Paris in fall. Paris by the Seine with a courtyard garden of exquisite beauty. How lucky is that! All of the mystique and history, culture and charm of Paris held me spellbound. But it wasn’t until I returned and walked outside next morning into a sparkling luminous spring garden shouting its aliveness and its wildness, that I realised what I had missed.

I had missed the close connection with Nature in the form of my familiar heart friend; the leaping wild energy of my local rural area and my unruly rambling garden. What surprised me most was the strength of the presence of wildness. The vibrantly independent, free and self-aware consciousness of Nature leaped into the morning light, leaped up behind the visuals of new leaf and sunlit branch, as though calling out a greeting; an invitation to me to engage and respond.

Before I left for Paris, during the month of August, “Touching Nature’s Heart” was featured on Balboa’s Bookstore homepage as a recommended book. It was an unexpected pleasure for me to see her featured once more. The google preview has returned to the Balboa webpage for my book and so it is once more easy to browse and see the interior images and layout.

Sometimes I look up from a weeding or planting job and notice the changes Nature has wrought to the familiar garden vistas that I captured as photographs within “Touching Nature’s Heart”. A moment from amongst the seasons and within the growth pattern of trees and plants was portrayed. Since then, leaf and branch and ground cover have been constantly redefined and newly expressed. There is something comforting in this constant renewal and continuing growth. Life and Nature as always go on; blossoming, maturing in abundance and in beauty and providing physical and spiritual sustenance from the harvest of growth.

There is a koala grunting his mating call from a gum tree branch outside my window, such a lazily self indulgent, and finally almost purring sound he makes. Who can blame him, it’s spring on a late afternoon and the sun is warm, the sky blue. This is wild Australia and he is free to be.

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