Surface Tension

Have you ever wondered what the last straw is? Today I was filling the ice-cube tray and was admiring the rounded curve of water in each cube..........got to thinking "At which point is your breaking point? When are you at saturation point and can hold on no longer?

Pretty deep silent dialogue with my ice-cube tray, huh?

So.............got to thinking how we all survive on a daily basis with our own individual surface tensions going on.

At work, there is a point where we can't take anymore before we say something/do something/ignore someone/quit.....

In friendships, we tolerate and take a lot and there is a predetermined point, that we may or may not be aware of, where friendship or not, we have to push back/bite back/ withdraw/quit the friendship.

In our relationship(s), we go so far and then take another step for love but that, too, has it's breaking point.

Food for thought..........nothing deeper than that, though, folks......just something that an ice cube created in my little mind.

My Beautiful Yarra Valley

It was my home for 8 years and I that is always where I return when I want to get back to myself.

This photo was taken last week - opposite Chateau yering - and now doesn't exist. That tree in the far distance is my favourite tree and in the far far distance are the trestle bridges that I've taken only a few people - for that is my retreat from the world...and they no longer exist.

These beautiful pastures are now charred remains...... the photo on the left is what is the paddock on the right - burnt out, smoking and charred. One week ago, it was luch and green.

Strange that I called this particular picture "Phoenix" because that is what they have now named the clean up project - Phoenix. This was taken the week before the fire.

Please have a look at what used to be and is no longer.....but will return one day.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/shazzah/sets/72157613694373542/

Spirit of Australia

Not the ferry between Tassie and Melbourne.........the real thing!

Aussies are such an unique breed of battlers. We are very resilient and have quite a pragmatic attitude to life. Dusting off and starting again is par for the course. Hey True Blue...

Black Saturday was my 45th birthday and one I will not forget. I'd rather not have the stigma attached to it but there it is. It stands for a very sad day in Melbourne, in Victoria, in Australia.

But, as with all things sad, some good does come from it. Aussies have this amazing quality for putting in when all the chips are down. It's always been that way and not even 5 days after our worst disaster, we've all dug deep and come up with $45 million so far.

We have floods up north and fires down south. Yet we're still digging deep to help those who've had so much taken away from them.

We dust ourselves off, we take a deep breath and then we move on. We rebuild our lives, our emotions, our homes......we help our neighbours, our families. We go without so that all may have.

It's one of our proudest moments - in tragedy comes our greatest untangible asset - we're Aussies! We look after each other.

The Book of Life by Nanushka

The book of life begins

with pages virginal and clean,

proclaiming innocence

yet strangely tempting to the childish mind

behind the unformed hand

to make its presence felt.

and leave a mark to show where it has been-

and as we write upon the pages

each life

as stories lived and written by us all,

of drama, mystery or comedy

of heroes, villains and adventurers.

some written with a carefree flourish

some neatly following the lines,

and others in a careless scrawl-

No matter if our book is short or long,

or if it is remembered down the years,

we must expect

that even in the happiest of fairy tales,

there will always be some chapters

blank with boredom-

there will always be some pages

smudged with tears .....

By my favourite poet, Nanushka

From The Thoughts of Nanushka Vols 13-18

Not Quite Sure

I'd like to think that I can elevate above my silent grief for the bushfire victims today but, alas, I can't.

My thoughts and tears have been with these people all day. All day.

I can't find anything funny or interesting to write unless it's about the bushfires.

I have read the papers and scoured the websites with every waking moment that I've had. It's touched me to the core - just like everyone else in Melbourne and Victoria. There are moments that my brain is in utter disbelief of what my eyes can see. The rubble, the ash, the charred wooden remains mingling with ashen brick, twisted and tortured corrugated iron roofs bereft of support, lying like exhausted bones. In this rubble lies the unidentifiable remains of families, of parents with their children, husbands without wives, animals left in the race to save lives.

Insurance, for some, will help them rebuild but the scars will remain far beyond. Not just for the victims but for the volunteers, the firefighters, the emergency service people - they, too, will be scarred.

I know my last couple of posts have been a little sad and depressing but that's all I have in my heart right now. I can't pretend that this hasn't affected me because it has.

I feel lucky/guilty that I get to have so much and, not that far away, people have lost everything.

Victoria's Bush Fires

Under normal circumstances, bush fires are a part and parcel of life in Australia. I can't speak for anyone else but my usual reaction is to nod once or twice at the news reports and then I don't normally pay much attention to it, aside from that.

http://www.abc.net.au/news/events/bushfires/

However...........this one is different. I am confused and distrubed into periods of silence because of the magnitude and ferocity of this bush fire, still burning in parts of Victoria.

Last night, I watched the latest news flash, after having spent a wonderful day strawberry picking and going to the Mornington market (albeit in the rain). Here I was, feeling satiated that I had been out in the fresh air, having filled my mind, soul and belly with some good people at my side........and on my TV, I was watching people who have had their homes reduced to a fiery, hissing rubble.

Spirits were crushing as they told the journalists that they had lost everything. With each word solidifying the truth - because sometimes it doesn't seem real until you utter the words that you've been avoiding - tears trickled, mouths buckled and furrows knitted brows with the unspoken "Where to from here?"

As I sat and watched these terrible news flashes, bright orange and grey smoke clouds crept over my house, signifying the mass cremation of home and life that was simultaneously being broadcast on my TV. As if I didn't believe that this was happening not that far from home, the clouds loomed over my suburb, almost as a reminder that I am, this time, very lucky that it hasn't touched me or my loved ones.

Not 30 minutes away is the Yarra Valley, which was once my home for 8 years. Lives and homes have been reduced to ash and cinder there. Winery crops toasted, grapes turned to dried fruit.....our lovely de Bortoli's winery, where many a picnic has gathered has succumbed to the fires. Yarra Glen - featured so highly as a photographic mecca for me - was black with smoke.

Not since Ash Wednesday have I been moved by so much. Yesterday we donated money to the fire cause but it doesn't seem much in light of how much has been lost.

Alex's best friend, Liz's father has farming land, smackdab in the middle of the worst fire in King Lake. He's lost a lot and that's when it really is brought home - when you know somebody who has lost. Liz's grandmother rang them to say, urgently, that fire had surrounded the home and she couldn't get out - I don't know whether she was saved or not.

So today was going to be a day spent with just Grant and I......spending private time together, going to some art galleries, lunching by the Yarra, taking photos in the city. Yet my heart isn't in it. I feel terribly guilty that I have the luxury to enjoy myself, selfishly, when others don't have a bed for the night, children don't have clothes.

As a mark of respect, we are cleaning up our block of land today, whippersnipping grasses, cleaning out the gutters of all the dried leaves and twigs and generally tidying up. It sounds silly but I feel like I owe this much, not just to my immediate family, protecting our home, but as a silent message to those who don't have a home anymore - that I won't take it for granted that these things won't happen to me. That I will respect the forces of nature - especially in Australia and, in particular, in Victoria right now.

To ignore this would be highly disrespectful and dismissive of the tragedy that some people are currently experiencing.

I will value what I do have by doing what's necessary to protect it.......it can be quickly and unpredictably taken from you.

Voyeur or Participant

Do you prefer to watch or are you one of those that like to be in the middle of it?

Me? I teeter between the two. Sometimes, I just don't want to be a part of it and would rather watch. Other times, watching just doesn't thrill me and I like to dive deep into the foray.

What are we talking about????? Life. What were YOU thinking, you filthy animal?

Life.

There are moments in life where I like to whip out my beloved camera and watch. Watch for facial intonations, for emotional expressions, for moment of joy or moments of wonderment. I love it when I can anticipate and capture that millimoment of joy, fun, laughter - and sometimes even anger or sadness. Mostly laughter though because who really wants to relive moments of sadness over and over by looking at a photo of it?

Other times, like today, I prefer to be in the thick of it. it is an either/or choice. Either I can take photos and watch from afar and not be involved or I can choose to put the camera away and be in it. Today we ignored the rain and went to a market. The rain persisted but we persevered and then went to an antique warehouse. The rain cleared and we ended up hightailing it to Sunny Ridge Farm and went strawberry picking.

I have never been strawberry picking before and had this romantic notion of what it would be like. And it was......it was truly lovely. Rows and rows and rows of strawberry plants, some weighed down with bright red, sweet, bursting with flavour berries. There were small little children, squatting in amazement, at the sweet little bubbles of juiciness and I could have chosen to get my camera nd take some very arty pictures.

However, today was one of those days where I really wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to go strawberry spotting and picking. Some of the strawbs didn't make it into the basket. What a difference fresh strawbs taste like compared to supermarket berries! I don't like supermarket strawberries - they're tangy and crunchy....yes, crunchy....and I don't like tangy, crunchy strawberries.

But these strawbs were plump and bursting with flavour. They were juicy sweet and delicious, like I imagined strawberries would always be. I ate a whole belly full and then bought the ones that didn't make it to my mouth.

What a wonderful end to the day! Today, I was a participant. It's not always going to be like that but today was worth locking my camera in the boot of my car like a naughty child (I'm not supposed to say inappropriate things like that, am I? *stifling laughter*..... and being involved.