I really did see this morning, morning’s minion. As I was coming out of the side gate of the centre I noticed a slight scuffle and there on the pavement about 15 feet away was the same bird I had seen plummeting into the bushes last week. For a split second we looked each other in the eye before he flew off. A kestrel?
I had been thinking about what it is about going to the Creek each week that has been transformational. It is a word I have used in describing my experience there but until now had not thought to try and clarify exactly what I mean or how, or what or who has been transformed.
These things are very difficult to put into words but there is something about doing something simple like going to the same place on the same day each week, becoming conscious of the weather conditions, how you are feeling in response to those conditions and the relationship between yourself and the outer world that results in moments of clarity and calm. For the short time I spend at the water’s edge it is possible to forget about everyday life and live in the moment. You become very attuned to how you are feeling at a particular moment and who you are in relation to the world around you. There is no escaping it.
Really surprising memories are dredged up out of the blue. There is something about noticing small changes every week, simple things like how high the water is, the smell of the Creek mud, whether the insects are making any noise, the clouds, the rain, the sun.
The realisation that in the middle of the city there are wild places and wild creatures going independently about their business in a parallel existence with all the noise and bustle and sirens, commotion and violence. There is a kind of freedom and intentness about animal existence that I am always searching for in my work, a clarity of purpose.
The inherent complications of life drop away. Something crystallises.