Don't know about you but I'm exhausted. Seems it's been one thing after another for at least six years.
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Black Summer fires, COVID, Ukraine, inflation, October 7, Gaza, housing, cost of living, Trump, tariffs, Iran, Trump again, inflation again and oil crisis.
Musing on this on the deck overlooking the sea as it turned pink in the sunset, I heard a familiar, reassuring sound. It was the call of the currawong, a bird I always associate with winter. Listening to its melody echoing across the neighbourhood I felt a loosening in the neck. An involuntary "aah" escaped my lips and for a few glorious minutes I was freed from the grip of the news cycle.
The currawong reminded me not only that winter was coming but that sitting and listening to nature is a balm in troubled times. And the bird's curative effect on my psyche piqued my curiosity. It turns out I'm not alone in finding comfort in that call.
The Wiradjuri people of central western NSW say the currawong sings in the rain and announces the onset of colder weather. Another Indigenous belief is that the bird's song is the voice of ancestors, offering spiritual guidance. The currawong is also thought to bring wisdom, good fortune and protection.
On those crisp winter mornings they visit, their yellow eyes bright with curiosity, intelligence and expectation, the currawongs are also a source of entertainment. It feels like a privilege to have them check in, scope the scene, hope down to snatch the stray piece of dog kibble, then fly off again, their calls trailing as they go.
It's reassuring in the midst of all the world's uncertainty to know that nature at least does its best to stick to its timetable. As shadows lengthen and the nights grow long and cool, the currawong reminds us that the world beyond the chaos of human folly remains orderly and punctual.
In just a few weeks I'll sit on this same deck, warmed by the winter sun, with eyes fixed on the sea to catch the spouts of whales heading north to breed. There's a good chance I'll be joined by the local currawongs, dropping in to see what I'm up to and to remind me to tune out the man made noise and listen to country.
Which is precisely what I'm planning to do right now. I'm heading out of the burrow for a couple of weeks to soak up the sounds of autumn. The currawongs, the noisy corellas blown in from the bush, the wind in the casuarinas and the crunch of fallen leaves on the lawn.
While I'm away Jenna and Garry will appear in your inbox.
HAVE YOUR SAY: How often do you stop and listen to nature? Do you have a favourite bird that visits your garden? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
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IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- Australia has locked in another month's worth of fuel, as consumers and motorists brace for higher prices at the bowser and checkout. Energy Minister Chris Bowen said the nation originally had supply until mid-April, but that had now been secured into May.
- US special forces have rescued an airman in a high-risk mission deep inside Iran while President Donald Trump has threatened to rain "hell" on Tehran if it doesn't reopen the Strait of Hormuz for oil flows vital to the world economy.
- Attempting to break a Guinness world record, Australia's youngest female pilot took off on Easter Monday for a worthy cause. Seventeen-year-old Rose Donald hopped aboard a Cessna 172 VHDWE from Essendon airport in Melbourne to raise funds for seriously ill children in the bush.
THEY SAID IT: "Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings." - Victor Hugo
YOU SAID IT: Garry wrote about happiness.
Emily suggested a better aphorism. "Expect nothing and get nothing and there's no disappointment. Everything extra becomes a bonus."
Kath said she always believed in choice - "you can choose to be happy or miserable. Attitude counts."
David said "perhaps our affluent, Western societies have lost sight of a basic truth that it is the simple things that can bring the greatest pleasure; a beautiful sunrise or sunset, a walk along the beach with toes in the sand and salt air in our nostrils".
Donald said: "Beautiful Garry. I reckon my Grandpa and yours would have got on just fine. Grandpa left school at 12 and started shovelling pit coal, and he rose to be guard on the Spirit of Progress after joining Vic Rail as a mere child.
"As I approach his final age myself, I hold his shiny gold guardscoat buttons and treasure the time he always made for me. John Denver's Wild Flowers in a Mason Jar is worth listening to for all grandpa lovers. Time with Grandpa was indeed golden."
Alison thanked Garry for his column. "It reminded me to slow down & take pleasure from the little things, such as looking out into my tiny patio this morning and seeing sunlight coming through."
