Colour Me Gold

Some reflections and some photos. Colours get me thinking. What else is there to do?

Colour is the place
where our brain
and the universe meet

~Paul Cézanne

Colour Me Gold – Life In Colour
Sometimes life is solid gold.
Powerful, strong, warm.
Bends light and flows.

Green light is inefficient.
An invisibility cloak.
When gold dusts green, people pay attention.

Good old Aussie green and gold.
Green and gold light combine to make white light.
No moral in this story, only questions.

Would our story be more inclusive, if it had more earthen tones?

Without light, we need a torch to see where we are going.
Bathe in warm light. Bathe in gold.
Could this be Australia’s golden hour?

Shine a warm light, ladies and gentlemen.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.
(coming to you from Canberra, Australia’s national capital, which is located in Ngunnawal country)

I Guess We Have To Try

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

There are no winners in this pandemic. Today I would like all of us to spare a thought for our friends with loved ones who are currently undergoing medical treatment for life-threatening illnesses. Now just imagine that you couldn’t be with your loved one in hospital due to Covid visitor restrictions. Next, imagine that hospitals and emergency services are so overwhelmed with Covid patients that medical treatment cannot be provided in a timely fashion for all those in need. That would be unbelievably traumatic. It’s happening. My heart goes out to anyone in that situation.

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Soft Voices

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

Music when Soft Voices die (To –)
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

My music selection today is Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K 622: II. Adagio, performed by Thomas Friedli. For J.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Walk In Their Shoes

Welcome to a little bit of everything – my Friday Song day, the Lens-Artists (Keep Walking) and Last Photo (for August) Challenges.

I jokingly said to someone recently that I like my solitary walks because when I go walking with my True Love, he always points out some small, fast moving creature that is off before I ever set eyes on it. Then, I feel like I’ve missed out on something. Over the years, I’ve found that is a feeling I have to let go. In any case, there’s always so much else to see if only I care to look. Do you feel that you must bring a photo home from every expedition? Do you always expect a medal for something good that you’ve done? Maybe we should focus on participating rather than the prize? If I can’t snap the small, fast moving creature, I am perfectly happy with a tree. Trees – there should be more of them.

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The Changing Seasons – August 2021

Canberra (Australia) – Waiting for spring, waiting for Covid to come to the national capital, waiting for vaccines for young adults and kids. Waiting.

In the lull before the coronavirus arrived in town, I bought some native plants to create a fire hazard woody grassland on the nature strip (aka footpath) out the front of my place (no photos as the plants are too small). I then spent the rest of the month trying to keep cars from driving over my babies. I was also preoccupied mosaicing on a few sunny days. Consequently, I did not stock up on groceries. I also spent time worrying about the growing coronavirus case numbers in New South Wales and Victora (Australia). And, of course, waiting.

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Child

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

I’ve been distracted recently by world, domestic and local crises over the past few weeks. This week, however, I would like to return to my musical journey around the world. Shall we go the Philippines today for a song about misspent youth and family reconciliation? In some cultures, children are expected to rebel, in other cultures it is the reverse. Rebellion is kids’ way of saying, “I’m not you.” Anyway, the song is Anak (meaning child), written and performed by 70s folk singer, Freddie Aguilar. Lyrics in Tagalog are included in the video so that you can sing along. Enjoy.

Be gentle, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

To Rescue Or Not?

Several years ago I attended an informal estate auction organised for friends and family. It was organised by my friend and her family who had been given some bits and pieces left over once the formal disbursement of a family friend’s estate had concluded. The plan was to use any money raised from the auction to support the physical care needs of my friend’s niece who had suffered an acquired brain injury at birth.

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Take Me Away

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

It has been a distressing week here and across the world for many reasons. These troubles have been the subject of extensive reporting so I won’t go into those matters now. Instead, I would like to acknowledge the incredible work that everyone has been doing in Australia to respond to the growing Delta outbreak here.

The New South Wales government has made some mistakes which has allowed the virus to grow exponentially. We don’t know whether it would have been possible to contain it anyway, but they hesitated. This, however, in no way diminishes the huge effort of frontline and other essential workers, as well as Sydney residents who are turning out to get vaccinated, to try to minimise infections. Thank you all. Great jab.

Many will know that the Sydney outbreak has made its way to Canberra. Here in Canberra, we have just completed our first week of quiet time and movement restrictions. Canberrans have been re-organising their lives, monitoring the growing number of exposure sites, getting tested and otherwise staying at home.

I don’t often heap praise on politicians, but I hope you forgive me this one indulgence. I have been greatly impressed by the responsiveness and swift actions of our local government to keep Canberrans safe. It has been a huge effort and I really, really appreciate it. Of course, I cannot speak for those who have been in quarantine after having caught the virus or who have been a close or casual contact. Our youngest son’s timing was impeccable, missing “the excitement” by a mere hour. Commiserations to those who haven’t been so lucky. I hope you have friends and family who can keep the chips and chocolates flowing to you.

Speaking of chips and chocolates, my eldest son who is in his mid 20s, got tired of waiting for the Pfizer vaccine, so he got the AstraZeneca yesterday. He rang my GP and it took him less than 24 hours to get an appointment to get the jab. Despite my other son’s lucky escape, he has decided to wait for the former. It will be an experiment to see who is fully vaccinated first. There is one thing for sure, and that is, whoever wins will have to go out and get the chips and chocolates. Given the difficulties in obtaining grocery deliveries, I wonder whether this is a reason some people are breaking quarantine in Sydney?

Anyway, I need to turn off the wondering and the wandering for a while. Let’s have a song. Is Norah Jones singing Come Away With Me acceptable? Take us away, Norah.

Stay safe, stay sane, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Canaries, Currawongs and Cockatoos

No canaries were harmed in this story.

Shall we have a story about what really happens at Tracy’s house? It is a difficult story to tell because I’m not sure we are doing the right thing by our pet canary. He used to be one of a small flock of house canaries. The little flock had a lovely life together, with free flight across the lounge room, luxurious baths, fresh greens picked for them from the garden, and seed treats, before being tucked into their cages for the night. Life was rosy but, like us, the little birds got old, until, only one, Pan of the wild song, remained.

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