Shimmerings

Lady Bay Beach at Port Elliot in South Australia. So called because in the Victorian era it was where women would bathe. 

On this morning the bright shimmer of light, swirl of water, the rush to shore, return to sea, curl around rocks, a silvery shape  just in the dividing moments of sand and water.   

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Places Known

There are places that seem to know us before we arrive, perhaps, even before we’ve thought of them. Sacred places, special places that resonate with memory in the fold of rock upon rock, sea against shore, a mist that drifts in light and moist, a single standing stone come upon unexpectedly, there, singing with the breeze. Places we can return to, again and again in our minds, hearts. Or perhaps they’re one off places, something deep, renewing, confirming.Image

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Healing Places

If the body remembers, as it does, what does it have to say? How do we hear it? Do we?

In the last few days I’ve experienced an unassailable sadness, thick and dense at one minute, slippery and faint, teasing, at another. Then vanishing, only to return as if never absent. So much so I burst into tears when I saw the doctor, a gracious, humane, brilliant man with whom it’s easy to talk. Yet all I could say, repeat, was I don’t know what to say, what’s happening.

Having a committed listener such as my doctor, unobtrusive, very present, itself creates a healing space, is such a space, a container where the boundaries of space expand and contract as need be, but always remain, there and yet open.

When people are present to each other, they begin to hear themselves, the other, differently, perhaps even in new and undashioned ways. 

My visit was important not only in the medical exchange, but also in the way I heard and felt my sadness. Felt my shaking hands, the quiet, insistent flow of tears that I’d held back earlier in the day, zoning out. Sadness had swelled, almost choking me as I choked it back.

Silent places speak too. Have sounds, shufflings. Shadows. Edgings. Are rough,smooth, Indistinct.

Pare raw. And in my case here, felt like a burning in the throat, at times, cold, insinuating. I could smell burning oil,  tar, hear other men’s voices, Ayr and full, callous. 

 

 

 

 

 

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say yes and and not yes but

It’s been a dog day afternoon. Everywhere I’ve gone, the dog’s followed. From lounge to kitchen to office; even the bathroom. She’s near my foot as I type this, hopeful of signs I’m going to take her for another walk. But outside it’s gusty, dusty, fragmented, as cooler air confronts the warmer air from the inland.And there are no footpaths here. I usually have to drive to go for a walk. Such is life in Victor Harbor.

I read last night : say ‘yes and’ rather than ‘yes but’ to the day.

So I’ve taken the opportunity to secure some things around the yard. In the process, tidying up, getting exercise and periodically playing chase with the dog.

Time for dinner.

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Renewal

A long time since I posted here. In the past I think I was trying to write rather than letting the words emerge.
Sea country – yarluwar ruhe – means a lot to me. Helps locate me in something so much more than the spreading seaside sprawl that is disfiguring this area.
I wouldn’t be who I am without either- the sacred, the sprawl. In some ways, they create chaos and pain, the dialectic between them, as well as serenity and peace.

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Heritage & Concrete

Heard today that the Victor Harbor Council in South Australia has passed a redevelopment plan for a local hotel to be revamped and turned into a nine story monolith (my word).
This new building will be totally out of character with the existing built environment and goes beyond the Council’s own rules. No problem says the CEO. Every proposal is dealt with on its own ‘merit’.
Clearly- thus- rules ain’t rules for developers but rules are rules for ordinary ratepayers. Welcome to Victor Harbor folks.

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changes

How quickly a day can change! I let our dog out this morning and then when I went to check on her she’d disappeared. Very unlike her to go out on to the road so I suspected someone had taken her. Rang the Council and the dog catcher and after two hours heard the very good news he’s picked our dog up on a street not far from ours. Dorrie’s gone to get her now.Good work Victor Council!

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