Social interaction with other humans is not one of my biggest pastimes. Communication to me is calling the magpies (to come and feed), reason with the cats (surely I don’t have to substantiate this), reciting poetry and the alphabet to our Doberman (he is extremely literate), conversing with the sheep (they are keen listeners), apologising to the plants and the trees (either for a lack of water, hot drying wind, overactive insect incisors making their mark, hungry kangaroos, nibbling rabbits, bored parrots, or seldom, but it happens, flooding waters), discussing history with the rocks (they are so wise), complaining to the sun (it always seems to smile, whatever I throw at it), questioning the moon (it seems so knowledgeable), expressing sympathy with the spiders (when seldom I do have to remove their intricate spider webs), laughing with the ravens (they do dance and sing for their money), sympathising with the ants (for altering their course of direction), whispering to the little birds (they are so dainty), croaking with Brompie the frog (he seems so lonely), empathise with the soil (because of the drought), praising the stick insects (escaping the spider webs), chatting with the ringneck parrots (they love to talk), gossiping with the galahs (they do it so well), philosophising with the bobtail lizards (they are ancient and unique), plotting with the worms (to hide them from the birds and the ants), singing to the rabbits (I still remember the song about bunnies from when I was just over a year old), complimenting the kangaroos (they are such good mothers).
Companionship comes in different shapes
And then I still have time to reason with myself, a lot of inner dialogue, questioning human behaviour, self-conversation, self-criticism, silent humour, general philosophy. I find answers to all the questions I dare ask (mostly wrong - the questions; and therefore also the answers). I resolve all the world’s problems (believing that I single-handedly can change the world). I lament, I ridicule, I moan, I protest, I laugh, I cry, I wish, I dream, I despair – all by myself. Or in the company of books.
Just when I decide to hate the harsh Australian summers, and think it is time to move to greener pastures and long for things like rain and water and snow and cold, nature winks her eye and points us to the wonder of life always surrounding us. We just have to open our eyes and look around us …
Moeder Makou and Kleine Piet
Moeder Makou en haar kleine Piet is a poem by Jan F.E. Celliers (South African poet/writer). It tells about the tender love of a musk duck (Moeder Makou) and her young son (Kleine Piet) with his satin yellow feet. It talks about love, parental care and protection; the anxiety she experiences for her little one without allowing him to see her concern for their safety. It tells about her love for her child; that nothing in the world is more valuable to her than her child. She has him and he has her, and all life requires of them is to love and love.
Perfect dress sense
Each year we have this quiet couple – yes, our Moeder Makou and Kleine Piet are not a mother and child combination, but rather a real couple, wood ducks – appear on our property end autumn/winter, when the rain obliges by leaving some puddles in the neighbor’s dam and in our winter creek.
Polite etiquette
They potter and forage in the freshly sprouted grass, picking and pecking, smiling and talking. They are a couple in love, never wandering too far from their partner and you can almost hear them exchanging polite table manners and etiquette. They are settled in happy companionship and complete trust.
Happy companionship and care
They form monogamous breeding pairs, and stay together throughout the year. When breeding starts (usually round about September), they take turns calling in for food and nibbles. Both parents feed and nurture their brood (usually 8 to 11 eggs, laid in tree hollows or similar). The ducklings remain with their parents until a month after they have developed and are fully fledged. And each year, I fret and I frown, I sigh and I worry, for the survival of the ducks and their eggs. And if they succeed in getting beyond the egg stage, I worry endlessly about the ducklings. The foxes are over active in this area and regularly joined by eagles and other birds of prey, not leaving the ravens and magpies beyond suspicion.
... an outing and a picnic after a short sudden outburst of rain ...
This past summer: the green made way for dead prickly grass, our own savannah … but wait, there is movement … Moeder Makou and Kleine Piet came to show off their breed, ELEVEN 11 ducklings, no longer fluffy yellow but rather mature enough to almost leave the nest.
... so much to see, so much to do ...
... more food choices over here ... no, there ...
Despite the foxes, despite the egg snatching by scavenging birds, the two wood ducks have succeeded in successfully and safely rearing their brood of 11 …
When I was little
I had to draw our house
I also drew my mother and my father
Two cats and a mouse.
The roof was a lovely blue
The color of the skies
I loved the purple walls
The windows were two yellow eyes.
The orange chimney looked so swell
Turquoise made a lovely door
I picked another crayon
Shocking pink for the floor.
My teacher [...]
Droughts, winter floods, forest fires
bore-worm assault
stressed to extreme
bravely fighting, struggling, growing
our Eucalyptus trees
sun-bleached branches
white, demure, nude
vitiated
devoid of leaves
fruitless
barkless
stark angels etched against the night-sky
cliff-hanging gums bearing against the wind
living on the edge
rooted in the rocks
sloping outcrops
survivors
fallen soldiers, amputated limbs
contusion, ant infested
eschatology
defying imminent death
prostrate
sprouting new growth
vivified
alive
trees waiting
eager receptacles, keen anticipation
holding its breath
cumulus clouds
touchable silence
plonk … plonk
water
laughter
then
after the [...]
Humans are programmed to see sheep as followers, unintelligent, without initiative, of no particular value, unnecessary space fillers in the bigger picture, not green or ozone friendly. Sheep look at those humans and sadly shake their heads, pitying them for such ignorant assumption.
Sheep experience intense emotions and are on par, if not higher, than humans [...]
