
I’d forgotten (not really) how special lockdown can be.
I’ve never forgotten last year… that first chapter of the virus… as lots of things shut down for a while… including most of the planes. It was extraordinary. Witnessing Mother Nature blossoming before our very eyes. It happened in many places around the world.
It put on a special show here in my back yard. It felt like an ‘other worldly’ experience… or that your senses had been activated by an hallucinogen.
Out back of me is Simpson’s Creek… an estuary of the Brunswick River. It’s tidal… but never dry. It’s a special place… with Magick Mangroves on either side. Well on the more human active side of the creek the mangroves aren’t doing that well.
Despite it all it retains its magick.
Witnessing that blossoming during the early stages of the virus back in early 2020… I thought surely we’d never forget. Surely people would never want to ‘go back to normal’ after witnessing this. Not after witnessing this miracle.
Sigh… we forget.
Letting go of what we’ve known is not easy. We create a sense of security in the familiar. What will we have if everything changes, if things are taken away? We hold on. Even when we see our ways destroying the very planet we exist on.
Change will come… whether we let go or not. Some things are much bigger than us.
The kindness of Life allows us choice… gently reminds us, gives us a shove. Tries to open our eyes.
I went for my first swim in the river/creek today… first in months. We’ve had heaps of rain and cold weather this year… and after what seemed like constant rain for months and months and months the river took ages to clear itself of all the runoff and debris.
It’s back… back to it’s most extraordinary self… a colour I struggle to find a word to describe. It’s the palest, see-through, mesmerisingly light green mixed with blue. It’s spellbinding.
We’re in the end of winter here… so water temperature is cool but not cold. It’s wonderful… invigorating and revitalising. It’s magickal.
I look out to a huge open expansive of stunning water… held and supported either side by the sacred mangroves. Two lone fisherman in the distance… one north, one south. A paddler in the distance. The rest just open empty space… inhabited by the special creatures that call it home.
An Osprey glides overhead.
The sky a brilliant blue… above and all around. A scattering of stretched-out white clouds lying low in the south.
Sunlight, light, bright, brilliant and warm.
I wish we didn’t forget. We know (surely some place deep down) we really can’t ‘go back to normal’… I mean look at the latest warning… ‘the highest alert’. Screaming Red.
Will we sit and watch… the destruction of our precious Earth?
Or draw on all our courage and strength… gather together and say ‘Yes’. We can change. We can create a new future.
We’re running out of time.
Heaven is here… it really is.
much love… marilyn 🧡🧖♀️🧡