Lockdown Walk No. 15, Drama, beauty and pathos by Colleen Keating

 

Like any good story, musical  or opera this lockdown walk is filled with drama,  beauty and pathos. Each one or all can be included in any such moment or  experience.

DRAMA         Copulation

When we sat for lunch at Karagi Point
on the north side of the lake
the native miners
put on a a gregarious noisy performance.

It was a frenzied communal event.
The song was of soft low frequency
(compared with their warning and feeding calls).

The female flew down
onto a warm sandy patch of ground
spreading out her grey wings
in a splayed fashion. . .
called a bowed-wing display
her wings arched, head pointing down
tiny pattern of yellow exposed.

Michael suggested she was having a sand bath
until he read up google and we realised
we were witnessing its copulation ritual.

The chatter of miners flying
low from tree to tree
and then the mating and necking on a low branch
kept us entralled

The music was our lunchtime concert.
It was constant and persistent
with shades of  play and play and drama.

Some people dislike the native miner
(sometimes called the noisy miner and the garrulous honey eater)
for their songs but for me
it is a joy to the ear and the spirit.

BEAUTY           Nankeen Kestrels performance

The sudden awareness of catching
the first glimpse of the ocean
over the rim of the sand dunes
and its aqua-marines of blue and green
brings us alive.

Like the shock of jumping into cold water
we catch our breath in amazement
declare ourselves
thalassophiles over and over again.

We find our familiar table
to have a cup of tea
and sit as poets contemplating.

As if on queue it comes
out of the cloudless sky
circles out and around –
the air its partner
in a Vaughan Williams dance.

Closer and at our eye level
with its tail to us
it hovers
the air its magic rug.

It slender wings open wide
fanned tail quivers
in its perfection of
buff and tawny brown lines.

Quivering excitedly
it drops
a daunting direct drop
into the grassy dune
reappears, poises on a fence post
and then takes off
not even leaving an air brush on the sky

What just happened?
An  extraordinary gift.
We hardly remember breathing
entralled by its drama and beauty.
We know it didnt come  for us
but it was something of ours to behold
a brightness we could marvel about

and who can explain ‘coincedence’
or ‘serendipity’
and the tawny kestrel coming just now , just here.

we had slowed down,

were open,

were present

and it was there.

 

After lunch we walked to investigate the fenced off area
all ready to welcome the flights of Little Tern that migrate
from Japan to breed in the summer .
Thrilled to see the signs: educational and warning and the CCTV

PATHOS     A graceful pilot under threat

it makes a heroic journey
to find warm sand-dunes to breed

it risks lonely blue wipeout
baffles wild winds and storm

it traces a memory it does not have
until it flies to remember it

alone and together
it lifts off

navigates with the pull of the moon
and hummed magnetic tones of earth

it is endangered in this civilised world
how good to find

our council has fenced off an area
leaving drift wood and sea grass

to welcome the little terns
this summer.

 

Lockdown Walk No 14, Full of surprises by Colleen Keating

A Walk full of surprises

Surprise No. 1   A phenomenon

 

The sign list wild flowers
as ground cover
along our dune walk
planted to hold the earth
from a hungry ocean
eating away the beach
threatening buildings
built too close to the edge.

From the headland the ocean
spreads innocently today
like a dark silk quilt
slightly ruffled with silver lines
by a gentle breeze.

Along our track
we marvel at the array of gazanias
yellow to orange to deep tangerine
as if an artist had come with her brush
painting petals with dots and lines
extra patterns for variety.

Pig face, pink to purple
bursts brightly, its showy array
taking our attention and with
bees and butterflies we delight
in its sunny face.

The blue fan dune flower
goes unnoticed . . .

till we notice it.

We sight our first.
Thinking this was a lone plant
and we were lucky.
Down on my knees
I make a fuss
admiring its delicate blue fanned petals.

Then a phenomenon occurrs.

We start to see it dotted amongst
the ground cover of gazanias and pig face
everywhere.

How excited to find this phenomenon
has a name
Frequency illusion *

which states
once a thing or idea or word finds your attention
your mind tends to see if often.

* Frequency Illusion first noted as Baader Meinhof Phenomenon
It’s the difference between something actually happening a lot and
something you’re starting to detect a lot. When your awareness
of something increases  leads you to believe it’s actually happening more, even if that’s not the case..

Surprise No 2      The coming and the going

(after The Snake,  D.H. Lawrence)

 

A heron came to my walking track
on an early spring day
and I on a hike to enjoy the heathy dune and beach
on a dry balmy-scented path lined with bushy banksia trees

I came along the track
and must wait
must stand and wait for there it was
on the path
before me.

It had dropped down
on slender stilted legs spyed kikuyu grass
at the edge and remaining stealthy-still
fully focused on the unseeable in the grass
and with pickax precision struck
lifted its neck tall
gobbled back its prey
its long slender throat lumpy in its impulsion.

Silently.

Someone was before me on my walking-track
and I, like a second comer, waiting.

It stretched its neck after eating as herons do
and looked my way as herons do
and tucked away a leg
pondering on one leg
mused a moment
and refocused fully engrossed
being like a taichi master of mindfulness
on this spring day in mid September
during my hour of exercise
out from a pandemic lockdown.

This is where I differ from DH Lawrence
the voice of my education had no sense
to do it harm. Of course I had no fear
like one might with a yellow snake.

i liked being close to it and wanted it to stay
just for awhile to admire
its silvery blue-grey down
its fine white lined face.

This was my chance encounter
and like Lawrence’s next thought
it delighted me.
I too have to confess how I like it
How glad I was it had dropped down onto
my sandy path
like a guest, come in quiet, to feed in the grass
to depart peaceful, pacified and thankless
into the blue clean air.

Was it perversity that i longed to talk to it?
Was it humility to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured. . .
that we should meet here on this path on this day.

It fed enough
lifted its head dreamily
as if sniffing the scent of the lake once again
stretched its whole body into full height
and looked around like a god or goddess
unseeing into the air. My still statue did not deter
as it slowly, very slowly drew its body in,
legs like the wheels of a plane tucked under
wings with the lightness of an angel
lifted into the air
becoming a white air brush of the sky.

And I was thankful for my education
in being aware that this creature
is one with all of nature
and we are part of the whole
to be in reverence before it
and to be astonished.

I regret it had gone as if in exile
for i feel I am the one in exile
in demanding  this my track
my habitat
my world before its rights
and so foolish to think it my heron.
For it seemed like a king or queen
and in a world of enlightenment
crowned sacred
i shared a moment with one of the angels of life
and i have reason to be gratefull:
for the presence of grace.

Surprise No 3      Out of the blue

from the lookout
on the sand dune
sea and sky all blue

the tawny winged Kestrel
hovers into the wind
as if a show for us
its perfect audiance
and as if curious
flies over us
and i too afraid to look up
for fear of being pooped on

it circles around us
as if a grand performance
then stock-still on the air
focused below
it pins its wings
as if pegged back
drops down
swiftly with harpoon speed
into the foliage, feeds and returns
to play on the wing.

 

Tanka

dune walk 
clumps of gazanias
colour my day 
with all the moods
of the rainbow

 

 

Countdown to Hildegard’s Anniversary 17th September by Colleen Keating

Countdown : Hildegard’s Anniversary 17th September. She still speaks to us today . Her encouraging words to us to care for our planet, her sacred music, her knowledge of healing plants, love of the cosmos,

is all there for us in the 21st century . . . 842 years after she passed.

We celebrate you Hildegard.

Hildegard writes,
“The earth is at the same time mother, She is mother of all that is natural, mother of all that is human. She is mother of all, for contained in her are the seeds of all. The earth of human kind contains all moistness, all verdancy, all germinating power. It is in so many ways fruitful. All creation comes from it. “
~ Hildegard of Bingen
My photo “Veriditas” was taken of the moist undergrowth in the Wyrrabalong National Park on Darkinjung country Central Coast.
Veriditas – ‘the greening power of the divine’ – or ‘the healing power of green.’ Hildegard believed in the unifying power of the divine as reflected through growth. The “greening” in nature serves as a symbol of spiritual and physical health and reflection the divine in nature

Celebrating Hildegard of Bingen: Count down to her Anniversary 17th September.

The Story of a Young Pilgrim

in search of Hildegard of Bingen

by Colleen Keating

I take a train out of Bingen
through the Rhine Valley
on this  summers day
trek up a steep hill
relieved to find an old sign klosterruine
which points to a verdant track
into a cool shady grove

here remnants of the twelfth century monastery
moss-mottled stone walls
mostly buried by vines
and embedded tree roots
is Hildegard’s world

standing in this moment
with the outlines of another world
time is shapeless
the divide of centuries a blur

only my mind’s eye can see
a spirited young woman
flourishing herb gardens

she prepares salves and tonics
attends the sick
listens to the breeze
and finds God in the hills above her

the earth is our mother she would sing
revere and care for her
if we exploit and savage her
she will be out off balance
and the price will be high

then silence for nine hundred years

I lean against the wall marked Hildegard’s cloister
in the lush shade of an almond tree
hanging fruit voluptuous now
is falling to emptiness
the void
the nothingness
how human to fear the waiting
for fullness to return

scattered around me
are rotting almond fruits
flies enjoying their feast
the decay fodder for the soil

my eyes scan for her presence

a maiden hair fern
grooved into a crumbling niche
catches my eye
delicate and tenacious
I feel a quickening
like a first flutter of new life

too often the fragile the intimate whisper
the lightness of touch
the flicker of a sanctuary lamp
like the breath are portals and easily missed

I ponder the rise and fall of my breathing
listen to the rhythmic heart beat
hear veriditas chants in the crumbling walls

veriditas murmurs hildegard

hildegard is here
I do not flinch i expect her

nothing like the grey statue at the abbey
holding the orb and feather

her presence is intimate
light glows luminous
her arms full of herbs from the garden
and her muddy hand-made sandals
make me laugh

by Colleen Keating

Commended in Society of Women Writers Poetry Award. Giving women a voice. 2017

“A triumph of reconciliation” Emeritus Professor Lyndall Ryan AM FAHA

 

 

Only being aware of the past 

                 can we understand the present 

                                   to live into the future 

The radical and idealistic Olive Pink worked on the edge of the

 frontier of Australian history through the turbulent first 75 years

 of the 20th century. A woman warrior for Indigenous people, she tolerated

 no cover-up by individuals, society, governments or the law.

* * * * * 

With a meticulously researched, absorbing verse narrative, Colleen Keating

brings Olive Muriel Pink’s significant, neglected history to life with distinctive,

beautiful imagery. In powerful lyrical stanzas, she tells the story of Olive’s struggle

for recognition as a female anthropologist, her life-long work for the rights

of the Warlpiri and Arrernte people she loved and lived among, and the creation

of her arid garden. ‘High on a camel swaying to and fro /with a straight back

and a broad smile / Olive rides into her future.”  Olive’s persistence, her triumphs

and her passion for justice make for uplifting and compelling reading.          

   – Pip Griffin, poet

 

Olive Pink is one of Australia’s  unsung heroines.  In this original and

deeply moving biographical verse novel, Colleen Keating enables Olive Pink’s

experiences with Aboriginal people in Central Australia to emerge with

sensitivity, intellectual curiosity, understanding and grace.  It is a triumph

for reconciliation and will surely enter the annals of Australian literature.’   

    Emeritus Professor Lyndall Ryan  AM FAHA 

 

A play, a dance, books, a proposed film, an opera and now a wonderful

narrative poem by Colleen Keating. I wonder what Miss Pink would think

about all this attention – her battles and passions appreciated at last!!

      Dr. Gillian Ward,   Curator and author

 

Olive Pink’s life floats off the page – very much the character I’ve come

 to know and admire while translating her experience into music across

 this past decade.  Colleen Keating gives us a seriously beautiful work

 based on research that brings Olive vividly to life.  It is wonderful

 to see the astonishing story of this Australian woman Olive Pink, 

given the attention she so deserves. Such a visionary.

      –  Emeritus Professor Anne Boyd AM  Composer of the Olive Pink Opera

 

An invaluable and powerful addition to the story of Australian women who

 lived their lives working for equality and social justice.  A joy to read.

      – Elizabeth Keating-Jones  MA

Lockdown Walk No 13 Out to the trig station and back

Out to the Trig station and back  

the coddled clouds 
were part of a gentle day
their feather touch
calming
even the horizon misty 
a moist lightness on the sea air

the path soft and established 
with sandstone built sides 
the only reason we have hesitated 
before
is the steep gradients of ups and downs
today it seemed right to tackle 

I expected wildflowers at their best
a past memory was a gathering
of flannel flowers 

we met a back-burn
dry acrid smell
black ashen ground 

the air tasted acerbic
it harshened my breath 
agony of  past summer fires
miniture here 
reminded me of loss   
of absence  

yes nature survives fire 
yes banksia uses heat to propagate
yes it can prevent wild-fire destruction

but here I stood before empiness
my mind spinning

will the flannel flowers return?
will the flying duck orchids 
break this hard dry barren place?

all I can say
I grasped for answers
only when I got past this area
did they come
in colours and patterns
resilience and belief in renewal

 

Lockdown walk No 12 Spring today by Colleen Keating

Spring today opens

curious with the willy wag tail’s
chit-chat that encourages our walk

golden as sun-lit candles of banksia bushes
awaiting the  honeyeaters

green as unfurled fronds of fern
basking in morning sun

bright as the morning glory
spangling across the dunes

colourful as the wildflowers
bursting forth amidst the scrub

secretive as the hollow in the  old iron-bark
where two lorikeets hover

joyful as the magpie’s warble
from a high branch of the river gum

cantankerous as the territorial fights
amongst the bird gangs

busy as the scrub turkey scratching
up its mound

cheeky as the cheep-cheep
in answer to its partners sharp whip-crack

determined as the strait backed flannel flowers
preparing  to blossom on time

delicious as the fish and chips
we enjoy together by the beach

wide-eyed  as the one with sea-blue eyes
I wonder with,  walking spring today

 

 

 

Lockdown Walk No. 11 featuring the Sensory Gardens on Tuggerah Lake

A joint project of Wyong Shire Council and Lions Club The Entrance, located at Terilbah Reserve, The Entrance North. The gardens are filled with native trees and plants, a viewing platform overlooking the beautiful Tuggerah Lakes pathways, bridges, restful seats and all weather shelters.

 

A special feature of the garden of course is the sensory aspect. One is able to feel, touch and smell the many aromas and textures of the Australia Bush.   The colours of the Banksias , grevilleas and the three types of wattles  I discovered

 

Our picnics are very relaxing

And some of the birds that came up closer enough for us to observe each other

Spoonbills, heron, cormorant , pelican, egrets, ducks, honey eaters.

 

 

 

Lockdown walk No. 10, Under-cliff rock platform by Colleen Keating

 

Under-cliff Rock Platform 

A low tide walk
to explore the rock platform
snugly hidden
under the grassy cliffs
of Crackneck Lookout.

On the steep walk down
a whip bird song accompanied us
darting in and out of the foliage
with a clear sharp whip
content with an instant cheep-cheep reply

down on the beach
under the undercut of the cliff
through sand and rock and bush
scrub and mangroves

there was a salty feel to the day
out on the rock platform
we found a viewing spot
behind us the high projecting
grassy headlands
before us waves rolled in
dashing with jubilant spray
against the rocks

suddenly we were
the only two people in all the world<
the wide vista of horizon
like long arms curled around us
we relaxed into our oneness
into a cone of happiness
with permeable membrane
that allowed the real world to lean in
crashing of waves, rolling ofocean

then from out of a rock pool
a white-faced grey heron
like a mystic appeared

we accepted it as gift

namasté

our hearts as light as
lifting grey wings

At home I pondered once again the quote that has been tacked to my office wall for years

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.’ We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.  Marianne Williamson 

Launch of Olive Muriel Pink: her radical & idealistic life by Colleen Keating

BOOK LAUNCH

Sun September 19 @ 11:00 am

ALL WELCOME   FREE EVENT

 GINNINDERRA

 PRESS

  warmly invites you to the launch by

          Emeritus Professor Andrew Hede PhD 

  of the book

OLIVE MURIEL PINK

Her radical and idealistic life

by Colleen Keating

Venue: Olive Pink Botantic Garden

Stay for lunch at the Bean Tree Cafe with the author and buy a signed copy.Later join us for a Pioneer Walk in the garden and learn more of Olive Pink with the curator of the park Ian Coleman 

ENQUIRIES: COLLEEN KEATING  touchstoneten@gmail.com

Details

Date:
Sun September 19
Time:
11:00 am
Event Categories:
,

Organizer

Olive Pink Botanic Garden
Phone:
08 8952 2154
Email:
curator@opbg.com.au
Website:
opbg.com.au

Venue

Olive Pink Botanic Garden
Tuncks Rd
Alice Springs, NT 0870Australia
+ Google Map
Phone:
08 8952 2154
Website:
https://opbg.com.au