1 July 2001
“I’m taking charge. I want to do the things that make me happy. I want to be the person that I want to be, not the person everybody else wants me to be.”
Hamilton James Bruce, The Brisbane Courier-Mail, Life Section, page 14 , July 14, 2001
Yep, I came to Australia with the same idea. Taking charge? Oh yeah, well, the universe has a few lessons for those of us who believe that ‘s a possibility.
I sit on the back veranda in Brisbane, in a 100 year old Queenslander, which has undergone a little expansion, a little upgrading. Literally, having been lifted, refitted if you will, on it’s sloping hillside.
It’s cooler up here among the hill tops of Brisbane sheltered by the fig tree, which is probably at least as old as the Queenslander itself, maybe even older. My companions are birds who flit beneath, between, within the branches of the trees.
This winter it’s a tad different than it was last summer On my first trip to the ‘down under’ the fruit bats had to vie for the plentiful figs.
The behemoth, the Morton Bay Fig, resembles a house of flats with day time and night time residents. The lorikeets and butcher birds, the minors, and crows are in residence during the day .The fruit bats move in at night.
On occasion when the winds are right, the tower at Brisbane Airport brings the 747 heavies over this northwestern part of the city. They severely interupt the calm exterior mirroring what could be. The mood of the feathered residents is interrupted by gigantic jet turbines stirring the air, fouling the sounds of the lovely suburb.
How ridiculous to think one can take charge. I know, I know. The only person one can change is the self. Maybe earplugs?