The Wintersmith

I have been inspired by Robin, a woman who describes herself as “a photographer, mom, grandma, wife, and occasional traveler living in the secondary snowbelt of northeast Ohio.” She is currently involved in a 365 commitment to get outside every day, learning a lot by walking some of the same paths on a daily basis.

I read her post (the link is here 216: A visit from the Green Man) and decided that as part of my “Post-a-Week” commitment that I would comment on her lovely description of the Green Man visiting her area. What delightful images sprang into my mind as I read about the beauty of the northern hemisphere springtime.

I haven’t been too successful with my “Post-a-Week”, this being only my second for May and the last was on the 1st!! However, I will work at turning that around in June. And here is my response to Robin’s wonderful post.

Here in the southern hemisphere the Wintersmith has already begun to touch the countryside with his icy fingers. Whereas Robin spoke of new life and the Green Man, I am looking out over the bright yellows, oranges and deep crimsons of autumn. Even though most Australian native plants are evergreen, we have many exotic trees in our area and the vibrant splashes of autumn colour make this a beautiful time of the year.

The day I first decided to write this post we had snow in our local hills!! This is very, VERY unusual and made us realise that the Wintersmith has decided to visit early and with an uncommonly heavy hand.

The callistemons are flowering. We have a few native plants that flower in winter, adding extra colour to those vibrant autumn leaves. Because there are so few flowers around now, these bright red bottle-brushes attract the honey-eaters and wrens and so my garden is alive with twittering, flitting little visitors.

The bigger birds – magpies, currawongs, kookaburras – are here in force too and are very happy to accept any tidbits that I put out on the deck for them. They sing and warble with delight.

Looking east I see the rainbows over the hills and hear the chorus of frog-song as they relish the rain that we are receiving at last, after such a long time in drought. All the local dams are full to overflowing and the paddocks emerald-green for the first time in many years.

The views that I can see contrast the observations that Robin has made in her northern spring and yet, in some ways there are so many similarities. I too have found the fairies in my garden are a little camera-shy, but I can see their presence in the toadstool fairy-rings scattered about my front garden. The green paddocks, the bird life, the frogs, these are the things that exist in both places at this time of the year.

Like Robin, I have been coaxed away from in front of my nice, warm fire to step outside and observe the wonders of nature. No matter whether you are coming into the warmth of summer or the cool of winter, Mother Nature always has some beautiful, unexpected treasure to offer and all we have to do is wonder at her kindness in sharing her creations with us.

Memories of My Dad

I joined up for the Weekly Post Challenge last week. I thought this would be a good way to get myself really motivated around my Blog. As part of this you can sign up to be sent ideas to write about and this morning I have received my first emails with suggestions. There were a couple of topics that were interesting, but I didn’t really want to write about and then there was this photo -  blue and white balloons. And the first thought that came in to my head was my Dad.

My beautiful Dad left this life on Grand Final day 2001. He had gone from being pretty fit and healthy to not OK in a few short weeks and the final stage from diagnosis of bone cancer to his passing was only 10 days, not enough time for us to come to terms with his illness let alone prepare ourselves for his death. He was admitted to hospital on Mum’s 67th birthday and his funeral was just a week later on Mum and Dad’s 47th Wedding Anniversary (which also happened to be my 25th Wedding Anniversary). So what have the balloons got to do with this?

My Dad was a passionate follower of Australian Rules football. Actually he loved all sport. He played tennis and football when he was younger and was a very competitive and aggressive player. That’s what happens when you’re one of seven and have five sports crazy brothers! In his playing days he was a member of the East Ringwood football club. Even after Dad stopped playing, he continued to follow the club and so we would spend every Saturday afternoon during winter watching ‘East’ play – the mighty Bluebirds!!   East’s colours are Blue and White and so the connection to the balloons is revealed. At Dad’s funeral we draped his casket with Football memorabilia and so there was a Collingwood scarf (his other football passion) and his East Ringwood scarf and then we tied balloons to the handles and, although it is the blue and white balloons of this image that brought all this to mind today, on the day of his funeral it was black and white balloons – for Collingwood, of course. At the end of the service, when he was taken out of the chapel, we released the balloons and set his spirit free. 

I love you Dad.