March — Australia creeps toward lockdown. The weather is good but.
Warning: this story contains many bird and nature photos.
It seems an age ago that the smoke of bushfires polluted my lungs and we hunkered down for the summer in our small abode. Then the drought broke and the new corona virus reached our shores, causing chaos and disruption, and threatening to kill a generation. I confess that my summer experience made me hyper-vigilant for danger. Like the virus, my preparations and anxieties gathered momentum as March marched in. Read more
February (Australia) – another month of what Tracy does best. Catastrophising. Still, I’ve included a few nice photos.
After so much stress last month, it was not surprising that I seemed to have more than my fair share of illness. I started the month with a terrible head cold and I am finishing the month the same way. Lucky me. Many of my fellow Canberrans have been similarly affected by the strain. Read more
January 2020 — Not your average month. In aridity, smoke and fire, we excel.
Watering park trees.
Wish someone would water me. Read more
December (Canberra summer) — Caught in transition.
I feel compelled to take photos, both of the mundane and the unusual, as if to bear witness that these places, things, people and creatures, once existed and that they mattered. Read more
November — Words fail me actually. The photos are kind of nice though. Read more
October, all my bags are packed ….
The time has arrived. It is the time of year when, out walking, I look anxiously over my shoulder or scan the trees ahead for danger. It is the time of year for which I have been training these last six months. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is magpie swooping (ie. breeding) season. Read more
September — spring rituals in the Canberra region of Australia.
August — lives in the moment, not for all time. And for holidays. Read more
July — Winter. Fade to red.
I am the first to admit that July almost always represents the winter of my soul (not discontent; that would be going too far). At this time of year my mind tends to dwell on the negative and by some unconscious impulse, I dress in mourning. This year my existential July crisis has been exacerbated by some serious hypoglycemia incidents that I have suffered, leaving me wondering each night whether this will be the time I don’t wake up in the morning. So I often don’t go to bed. That’s tiring and ineffective. My little dog also requires a full-time carer. (That’s another story. Also tiring).
You know that feeling when you are so tired that you think it wouldn’t be so bad if you died but, at the same time, you want to cling on to dear life because your family, friends and animals need you? It is a conundrum. (My apologies, ladies and gentlemen, this is turning out rather more solemn than I expected. Also, Martha Kennedy has written a blog like this recently. Bear with me.) By some other unconscious impulse, I seek sanctuary outdoors. Made glorious by the sun and wind. (Sorry. I couldn’t resist). What did I learn? Read more
June – the Serenity edition.
June – you cast your spell
dappled greys through sunlit days
frost upon your breath
chill winds bring the winter solstice
earth tilts, turns
a ballerina in slow motion. Read more