Day before we leave

This isn’t poetical..it’s a free write that I wrote into my phone as Mr. S and I sat on the foreshore overlooking the beach. It’s..well simply me..being ‘Mums’ and writing what I felt and saw.

Mountains in the distance..
but not that far away, tree tops
that are broccoli fully grown and
depending on the angle of the sun and
shadows cast, something in-between

the foreground of the sand trees
a brighter green, shrunken against
the back drop of the hills
yachts whose sails are brilliant white
flutter against the sun, into
the breeze

flat is the ocean, a dinner plate
not yet filled, until the crest of
white disturbs it’s calm, the dish
now starts to fill, sitting on the
foreshore with late sun
observing teenage love holding hands
and impressing

remembering the openness
of kissing, casting inhibition aside
the cloud that stops the sun
not darkening thoughts of love, as on the path
people walk dogs, ride bikes or jog
and palm tree fingers flicker
in the summer air

thinking who I love in this world
how privileged I am to feel this way
to witness what I do, knowing tomorrow
the plane will take me home
the cold will hit my skin
I write as the sun heralds its goodbye

a tear surfaces in my eye, a knot forms it’s
way into my stomach, I breathe deep, stay
centred..knowing…our lives are here
and now, how beautiful our surrounds are
if we only stop and open our eyes… to think
each day a holiday and not just for now

Winter in Melbourne

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Photo Credit: Dandenong-Range-Photography.com.au

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As ice clears on my winters morn
heavy dew melts ‘tween the blades
that crackles under shoes
I smell the smoke of open fires
creeping from houses nestled in my
neighbourhood, circling from chimneys
into the atmosphere, vanishing
as it dances with the grey
I wonder if I will feel the sun again
my body warmed against the chills
the smell of hot scones freshly baked
plated on kitchen benches toasty
warmed from those that sit
conversations with hot tea

no snow, but cold enough in Melbourne
in a winter, frost that paints the windows
of cars parked along the streets
house windows, trickle panes with water
as cold clashes with the heat
and I rub my hands together to stop
the chill entering my bones
rugged in boots, coat and scarf
I walk the path, the biting air
nips my cheeks, breath exhales white
into the air, teeth chattering

the sun will come around once more
a few months, is all I have to bare
of waking in the darkness off to work
returning in the same stilled black
but I know, as sure as every season comes
longer lit days will arrive once more
where smiles are more readily seen on faces
venturing out of doors, ceasing the will
to hibernate as short beaked echnidas do
for we have no bears that hide in caves
as I wish at times I could

Taking The Time

I am elated, today I finished taking a video of my father giving me his life story from his early childhood up to when he came to Australia from Czechoslavakia.  He arrived here in 1951. Speaking in English with his Czech lilt and sometimes (but not often) pausing to remember details, he spoke over two sessions (over 2 days) the total being 4.5 hours.

We did have a break today in which I took them out to lunch at a nearby Cafe and we took a very slow and gentle walk along the strip of shops afterwards in the brilliant sunshine. Mum held dads hand I held his as the three of us ambled our way along the pavement. To see my parents now and remember them being able to walk in a brisk and sprightly manner made me a little downcast. Fortunately they are trying to keep their humour up by saying, “Don’t ever get old girl it’s a bugger”. To which I can only laugh my reply  “I’m on my way Pop”.

When I brought them back home, it was mums turn to tell me of her life in England, Rochdale where she grew up, she was quite panic-stricken before hand saying she had nothing she could say, or wouldn’t be able to remember, but it was magical to start the video rolling and to listen to her suddenly remembering her past.

This is a moment in history that I can hand down. My children’s children and theirs will be able to see them, hear them and listen to their life stories. I am so pleased I took the time and for them to agree. As this is my keepsake of them and for generations of our family to come.

Conclusion: If you can take the time to do this – please do, I am sure you will not regret it.