Four more of my Writing Stones

January 8, 2012 at 9:15 pm | Posted in Australia, Nature, Writing and Life | Leave a comment
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Sunset

An evening sky, lightly painted in pale pastels – soft blues and pinks, with a touch of lemon.

But then the setting sun comes along, an artist with a heavier hand and a richer palette, and splashes the sky in flaming orange-red and gold, against a rich teal background.

As the sun disappears, the colours fade, washed to silver-grey in the fading light.

Gradually, the dark of night strips all colour away, but there will be another sunrise in the morning.

 

 Paper Wasp Nest 

An old paper-wasp nest, made from tiny scrapings of wood, and saliva to bind them together, has been dislodged by the wind from under the tree branch that sheltered it.

 So beautifully constructed, so light. Each cell forms a womb for the developing young, which feed on caterpillars supplied by the adults.

 With this home now lost, the female adult must create a new one, perhaps just a few cells at first. In these, she will lay her eggs, to begin a new generation.

 And so the cycle continues. Despite adversity, Nature finds a way to carry on.

 

 Misty

 Misty rain from a pale grey sky

warm and gentle on my skin

brings to my mind the soft fragility

of my unborn grandchild –

so full of promise.

 

Two Feathers

 I see a small, grey feather in the back yard and pick it up. It is sturdy and dense – probably from a Noisy Miner.

There is another small feather in almost the same spot. This one is ultra-fine, downy; unbelievably soft and wispy; speckled brown and white – from a young Tawny Frogmouth owl.

I hold them high between finger and thumb, one in each hand. When I let go, the breeze carries them away.

The Noisy Miner’s heavier feather falls first;

The Tawny’s feather floats high on a soft current of air, and lands lightly further up the slope.

I leave them where they land;

The elements will take them back to themselves.

(c) Linda Visman 2012

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