Happy New Year Me Old China

Apparently, six jumbo jets laden with Chinese citizens arrived in Cairns yesterday in time to celebrate the new year, but still the buzz of the town was barely discernible over our whispered conversations. We met old friends from Melbourne, caught up with people we hadn't seen for years, spoke with others we'd never met, made promises never to waste another precious minute of our lives and all of this at a pace that was ever increasing.

Today it was breakfast in Cairns, brunch in Townsville, pizzas from the oven in Daisy Hill for dinner,  (Happy Birthday Sue), then home late.

Roger is still near the front of our thoughts, but already we are beginning to wonder if the last few days actually happened.

We have been riding the Orbitron.

In Memory

Four years ago, Roger and Wilma planted a gum tree below their bedroom.   After three years, it had grown happily, but simply refused to flower.

They had a bit of a chat with it, and threatened it with a big axe if it didn't get its act together within the following twelve months.

Last Sunday, a single flower erupted in the very crown of the tree.  Roger excitedly took a photo of it, printed it on a ten by eight glossy paper and raced up to the hospital to Wilma.   

She could only move her eyes in response, and in his words "they just shone".

On Monday, after she had gone, he returned home in his sorrow, and stared out the window in silence.

Numb in body and in spirit. 

The tree stared back, waving as it did a complete canopy of lush bloom, buzzing with all manner of bird and insect life.  New life, vibrancy, where yesterday there had been none.

He knew then that she was truly at rest.  

In peace.

Up Here

Cathartic catchup last night, breakfast in Cairns, lunch in Port Douglas, sad again this afternoon.

Unplanned

Another sunrise

For once the sleeplessness and early waking caused by overthought serves a useful purpose.  We are awake in time to drive to the big smoke and its airport.  The valuer's report has been delayed by his own family circumstance, and should be finished today but it is far from our minds as we fly to Cairns for serious family time.

"Sorry business" it is called by some in our community, and I know of no better way of expressing it.

The Split

Today was a big day for our poor little Trigonias (Australian Native Stingless Bees).  We split the hive to double our stock, and it would be fair to say that it causes a bit of disruption to the poor things.  Hopefully they'll settle down in a day or two, and life will get back to something approaching normal for them albeit in a strangely reconfigured abode.

We seem to run our lives in parallel, our bees and us.  

(Photo by Michael Storer since I had my hands full at the time!)

Perspective

A shock of white in a sea of tears.

The tiny water lily flower emerges from the black. 

We contemplate Roger's grief, try to share his burden, and gain a crystal clear understanding of the triviality of our own concerns of the past months.

Taking Counsel

The first canoe trip of the new school year came by today.  Usually we hear them coming long before they arrive on the outbound journey.  We give them no chance of spotting any living thing as they chatter and clatter away in their excitement.    The return journey is somewhat different though as late in the afternoon a gaggle of deathly silent, exhausted children drift downstream waiting for their agony to end.

Today, the river is full of rain washed silt, flowing swiftly with the tide and with a nasty crosswind, so the normal on-water instructions could not take place.  We listened attentively while "Sir" explained the finer points of boat handling and safety from the shore, noting that we were the only ones who actually were.   Then we watched as ten boats took off in every direction but the one in which they were intended, failing entirely to respond to the uncoordinated commands of their crew.

It's quite fun listening to the shouted information about the mangrove roots and the kites nesting just a few metres behind the trees and about how sensitive all this fragile environment is,  but I wonder how he will make himself heard in future years above the noise of the freeway and whether, standing on the concrete abutment, he'll tell them that once there were nesting kites and oyster catchers and flying foxes in this very spot.

I wonder if he knows just how seriously endangered this habitat is.