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No Escape

From the photo archive.

A glare or stare makes all the difference in the realm of raptors. Glares are the domain of goshawks, stares are left for sparrows, sparrowhawks that is. Impending darkness obscures the form and casts confusion. The pied currawong does not engage in such esoteric debates. Nor does the raptor. There will be no escape for the hawk with no name as the currawong launches its attack. Such interlopers will not be tolerated.

It looks like a glare to me. What do you think?

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

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Shake It

Welcome to another 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’s been a newsie week which leaves me with many options for this week’s Friday song. We had the sudden announcement of the Aussie government’s cancellation of its French sub contract, and instead the government will purchase you-beaut US nuclear-powered subs. Oh wait, the French have nuclear-powered subs but we didn’t want nuclear subs at the time. Did we even give the French a chance to bid for the new contract? Maybe not. Consequently, and apologies to the French, ABBA’s Waterloo and Fat Boy Slim’s Weapon Of Choice, immediately popped into my head!

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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)

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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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Bob’s Hope

For Covid’s sake, a spring procrastination and shopping poem.

Bob’s Hope

Pleased to say nothing much
is going on here in these tetchy,
dodg’em Covid days. So while I might
be quite contrary, I am certain I shall not
be overcome by questions on epidemiology.
Let me explain.

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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.

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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.

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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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