No, I haven't been on an airplane since 5 February. This window view offers 180 degrees of Queensland suburb and almost more sky than my prairie view in Nordacotah. The line between land and cloud covered upper limits is a tumbling tree line. Green provides the bottom frame.
Happiness ensues as I watch swifts, crows, magpies, fig birds, and in the evenings Tawny Frog Mouths slip from branch to branch or sweep across the darkening sky above the hillside horizon to the north. There, ancient Queenslander homes have been adopted by entrepreneurs and turned into antique boutiques, curry shops, and fashionable undie providers as well as coffee shops and neighbourhood groceries.
In my absence this lovely space was turned into a bedroom - ambiance lost upon its inhabitant. Once again, the space sizzles with Australian colour, the dust balls have been collected, and the day bed cluttered with comfy pillows of varied colours. My desk once again allows me to sit at the window out of which I am a queen.
Huge storms one after the other file in from the Pacific buiding cumulus conventions. Magpies and crows quarrel over the nest of the smaller birds. At night Flying Foxes hover with huge wings along the fruit trees that fill my right handed windows. In the afternoon, my neighbours play with their youngsters in the back yard pool; the young adults two houses down party on their back veranda. The gasoline driven leaf blowers arrive to interrupt my serene world on Monday morning and I monitor the trash pick up on Tuesday early.
I love being home. I know we all have a sense of what kind of space fulfills. To each of us that sense is unique. This is my space; the one I dream of when far from Oz. This space is the one I love returning to for a short respite at least once a year. It is here that I feel most comfortable, most creative. Welcome to my home. Pics later.