Notwithstanding the resurgence of summer over the past week, it feels like autumn has arrived already this year—today, of course, being the autumn equinox. For weeks now the mornings have been cool, and at times rain and mist have set in, making for days that are almost, but not quite, cold. The evenings are closing in earlier, as well, which I find comforting. Still, as soon as the sun reappears after the rain there are skinks running around and sunbathing—including the tiniest babies—and everything is green and warm and at its height. It will be some time before autumn-proper settles in, but I know it is coming.
As usual, there have been birds galore. This summer I spotted a species I have never seen before, no doubt because they are tiny and quite shy—the red-browed firetail. I’ve been lucky enough to sight them on three seperate occasions, and even to photograph a couple (not an easy task!). The first bird here is a juvenile, without the red crest; the second is an adult.
Here is a sweet little striated thornbill.
And here is a magnificent female yellow-tailed black cockatoo, one of a family of three. It’s rare to be able to get close enough to take a clear photograph, so it was quite a privilege to be able to get this shot.
The footage below is of one of the other birds, another female, possibly a juvenile. You will need to turn up the volume a fair bit to hear her speaking.
Summer has brought a great many things—new thoughts and sights and dreams. I am sure autumn will bring even more, as the painting of the inside of my studio begins, and as I continue studying the ancient Witchlines of Old Europe. Everything is changing and growing, blooming and dying back. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by it all. But I want to learn to embrace the uncertainty of change, the glorious unknowns ahead of me, and within. So, now that the first autumn violets are appearing, I will be drinking violet tea, and contemplating what happens next, who I am (un)becoming, and what I can bring into being.