there is a bird

whenever there is flight

and there is a tree

when there are leaves in sight

there is a storm cloud

when there is light

from the sun setting down

just before night

Yes, this blog is not biographical nor is it a diary, I cannot write diaries.. This blog a daily notebook of feelings, thoughts, modes of expression, rational bits, and then mindless dreaming from time to time.  I wait until the sun has gone down on the day, and it is night.  Sometimes thoughts worth writing burst out in a rush to get down.  I started this blog some 150 posts back, but i don’t count them,. Nor do i religiously blog toward a niche or an agenda nor a numbered sequence.  But as the TV dies down, I think of the bird in the sunset against the storm.  It’s alone, having caught enough lizards and worms for the day.  What is it thinking perhaps ?  Will it go wandering in the night, or just call it a day and repose.

Why  in Australia do all the animals decide to come out at night.  Night requires special senses.  Granted it is much cooler, but the darkness is there, defeated only be the starlight and whatever the moon can muster. In the darkness, the scents and sounds of  the bush get louder as you slip quietly through the trees and shrub grevilia by the path.

You walk for miles through the faintly lit bush, past the creeks and streams and clamber up the rocks in the dark. You hope to make it to the streetlight on the top of the hill before it gets too dark.  It’s already too dark and cooling down rapidly.

Are you frightened of the dark. What is that fright like. Do you wait like a bird on a branch for the sun to set, only to find that having set, you are now alone in the dark and wondering ?  It was beautiful, but now it is cold and it’s time to move on up the hill.  Will you come with me ?  It’s not too far.  I’ll hold your hand as we walk up the hill.  You won’t notice the gloomy owl or the nightjar or frogmouth sounds.