Who is feeling everything like me?
Yesterday I went out for the first time in a
Yes Perth is in down again
One traveller lands into hotel quarantine and passes it on. Unaware HE HAS IT he goes on walkabout and leaves a marked trail of COVID app registrations in 17+ different places.
At the sight of everyone in masks and my own I found myself welling up with . It was not the first time that week. In the same week bush fires have started and still uncontrolled have had devastating impact on wildlife and families. Eighty one homes and climbing have been razored to the ground.
Yes, I was feeling the emotional impact of it all.
I turned to the ocean, my daily solace from it all. But it seemed unreal as runners like masked raiders passed me by and out on the water two lone paddle boarders in masks, with their dog balanced in-between floated by.
Reluctant to leave nature I sat for awhile to write this; my back pressed up against the wall, pen in hand and my toes sticky with sand. I let my eyes wander to the scene; people dotted around like hospital workers; their faces obscured by masks and sunglasses. It was a comical sight if it wasn’t so sad. Was this I thought going to be the new norm?
Next to me a seagull swaying side by side, minus a foot, no doubt ripped off by some fishing line or another lack of human care and I burst into tears again. I spoke to him as he struggled to stand and walk in the uneven sand as to me he represented everything we have hurt or destroyed in nature. I apologized on behalf of all of us.
I’ve never seen our blue skies heavy and dark with soot and I feel a heaviness as big as the world.
But then as I sit with my back to the wall the sunshine touches my toes and a flint of light cracks through the clouds and for a moment there is blue sky.
It’s a reminder again of hope, a reminder that there is tears before happiness, dark before light and a future after a past. It’s just another cycle in the passing of time and I am still grateful and still happy to be alive.