This time and space.
Microbats breed and scurry by the hundreds
In the ceiling of my forest shack.
There is constant life and death here,
Which feels more like survival than danger.
Unlike the human intense world
That smothers this planet.
Breathe deep.
This website deals with sadness and practice.
In the words I have available,
In this time and web-space,
Rooted in the foothills of the Border Ranges,
Alongside bloodwood, cedar and ironbark, brush box, flooded gum.
A place of water, green, and birds.
Many birds.
A dawn chorus complete as the universe,
Always arriving, quietening
Like the pulse continuum of day and night,
The swell and ebb of seasons,
Erratic as they are, yet seeking balance
Like the pull of gravity on water.
We begin here.
"As we extinguish a large portion of the planet's biological biodiversity, we will lose also a large portion of our world's beauty, complexity, intellectual interest, spiritual depth and ecological health...[the] future we're presently headed toward...is a future of soul withering biological loneliness."
Dedication
Made for water.
Made for Trees.
Acknowledgement
I acknowledge colonialism as the death of life, of the entire system we are all threaded into, and not poetically, literally.
I acknowledge the Gullibul people whose Country I live on/with, and the Ngunnawal people whose land/Country is where my umbilical cord enters the soil, and all the people who originate from the land/waters of this continent and relate to it as kin - I acknowledge you as the wisest culture/s on earth and among the most decimated. I pay my respect to all those who have suffered by the acts and at the hands of the Settler and Immigrant cultures I am descended from - mine is a long dense history of humans locked in battle.
May our species evolve into living complexity - connection/ interdependence/ balance/ scale, and resume our collective responsibility as caretakers of this wondrous home.