Where the Llama Sleeps
Sharon Lee Goodhand
Frog Whispers and a Chorus of Crickets
Hear that? Silence… such profound silence I hold my breath lest I break the spell… First coffee, on the sunstruck veranda dappled light as cascading sun trickled through tangled vines… … below me, on overgrown slopes, chickens ranged far and wide a pure white peacock drifted gracefully by followed closely by two fat brown hens… … a white llama grazed on juicy grass, eyeing me
in a friendly way as he passed in the treetops crow and kookaburra cackled and laughed at jokes only they knew… Watching as the sun slid behind olive-green tree-tops sky a still pale backdrop behind the verdant canopy roosters strutted, raising their voices to the vault of heaven - and I stood in awed silence before a shrine to Mother Earth…. Darkness crept in, in slow moving increments crows and kookaburras chortle sporadically silence prevailing between echoes… - eyes closed for a meditative moment and I smiled… such earthy treasures soothed my soul; A faint blush softly crimsoned the underbellies of streaky grey clouds, quickly fading to wispy shades of apricot Venus greeted me as the sky paled blue to grey shadows clinging deep and dark to the heavy treeline… … such profound silence I forgot to breathe suddenly expelling air in a shuddering sigh of quiet contentment;
The unruffled silence deepened – frog whispers … chorus of crickets and the homely popping of wood
as flames danced merrily in the fireplace… I ate my supper there, sitting on the step in front of the fireplace homemade soup… … I ate it straight from the saucepan savoring every mouthful; Hear that? Silence… such profound silence I hold my breath lest I break the spell… *
First Night I made a bed in front of the fire so I could lose myself in the toasty warm marmalade glow wrapped in warmth eyes grew heavy and I dozed‌ Unfamiliar sounds filtered in from the darkness beyond the windows‌ took me a sleepy moment to realize, a horse, snorting noisily stamping a hoof on the soft ground- and though I dragged myself from my fire-warm nest to peer out into the inky blackness
I saw nothing; how still it was‌ how dark and so blessedly quiet there were no cars no late night train no dogs barking in tandem echo a few drowsy crickets and the sighing breeze and me.
First Morning Kookaburras and Roosters A lone kookaburra greeted me at 6:45 am when I ventured from the morning fire to greet the day beyond the picture window‌ pastel sunrise simmered softly glowing through latticelike branches a renegade breeze rained leaves in billowing swirl skimming across the scuffed wooden floor‌ Winter chill swept across my face
as I bid the kookaburra good morning; Whipbirds echoed in the still morning woodsmoke and bush essences mingling with drifts of nag champa… … Kooka is a constant companion watching me as I spill thoughts onto the page from time to time he swoops to the slanting ground rummaging through long grass and weeds iridescent smudges on each wing bestows color to his many specks and flecks of off-white and brown a smattering of greys add charm to his dapper appearance… A kingfisher joins Kooka and I- a little timid he sits at the far end of the veranda watching us… … he outshone Kooka in hues of vivid blue fading to deep chromatic shades… two roosters continued to sound-off - each one crowing with crested pride from opposite corners of the meadow … occasionally brown-horse snuffs the ground blowing nosily through his big soft nose content to browse on lush nibbles crowding the creek’s edge.
Kookaburra on the back veranda rooster bragging at the door crows calling from sunlit branches not wanting to be ignored winter blossoms bright in treetops in shades of fuchsia flushed… I feel my soul let go, surrendering to Nature’s trust…. *
Midday Meditation Sun-sitting - wintersun a warm embrace eyes close as thoughts hover in soft and tender smiles… … breasts rise and fall in a sigh as tranquil ambience infuses the moment twitter-chitter of unknown birds soughing breeze, so gentle it brushes my face in a hushed whisper… Somewhere not too far away
a crow repeats his 3-ark refrain ark ark ark… ark ark arrrk I almost fell asleep- but ravenous clouds swallowed the sun whole stealing my puddled warmth… … is that what he is doing, that crow – calling in the rain? Still with that rhythmic 3-ark refrain… The breeze graduated to Boisterous Wind heady with bush scents, it scurried fallen leaves across the veranda floor settled momentarily then raced through the tree-tops all helter-skelter… 12:10 pm… the day grew dark shadows clung to tree trunks and polished wood alike the wind pushed open doors closed chasing itself through tossing tree- canopy - darker still for midday birds fell to silence except for a rogue rooster crowing at his own echo… … a smattering of rain fell, the darkness persisting… … beclouded by layers of grey
the day still held a measure of tranquil beauty - varying leaves overlaid in a mantle of greenery swirled in lively game with the wind‌ ‌ from time to time a pipe wind-chime gonged with tingling resonance and still that cocky rooster chortled at his echo, tossed back by the wind‌ *
Second Morning Whip-birds and mist tickle through the canopy of trees morning overlaid in damp shades of grey leafy treetops washed fresh by rain add a profusion of green to the day… Seems quieter, after the rainy night kookaburra visits, in waterlogged flight the farm animals hushed and not in a rush to leave the cover of their night pen even the crow a distant echo … ark ark ark… … so quiet I hear each individual raindrop dripping off sodden leaves…
The early morning dimmed… lit by a twilight rain-glow… … and down it came, clattering on tin roof splattering on a million leaves puddle-ing on the drenched earth rivulets form as water makes its merry way downhill, through weeds and herbs… across dirt tracks and into the creek… nature speaks her gratitude; The rain fell in a silken grey curtain hazing the treeline and hills beyond… … the sky a vast expanse of startling white interspersed with layers of ashy grey the land took on a deeper hue… bark stained dark and leaves in breathless array of green to jade… … thought inducing weather, reflection in each drop of rain- other rain-days, different but the same - gumboots in puddles -running hand in hand for cover - kisses from wet lips that tasted of love and coffee… Such memories tumble in freefall, and having no control of this deluge of rain-induced reflection, I let the memories fall surrendering to the mood of day drenched in grey.
Of Rain and Roosters and Nature’s Song It had been an indoors kind of day sojourns on the veranda to watch the rain a few hens ventured out to inspect the sodden ground - mist and rain creating echoes of sound… … I drifted through the hours, content to float in dreams of yesterdays and tomorrows and might-have-beens happy to listen to Nature’s song knowing in my soul this is where I belong…
As darkness enveloped my world I sat by the fireside, watching as the flames danced rain fell and from time to time I heard the snuffle of llama bedded down nearby… … I almost cried with contentedness and the thought of leaving on the morrow… It took an empty woodbox to send me to bed, but still I could not sleep… thoughts tumbled in on top of each other how could I make this a lifestyle, not just a fond memory? * Morning dawned to the melody of rain and roosters the sun briefly shone through the rain, adding a glorious rain-glow to the start of day… … soon I would have to go away retracing my steps to where I belong- but in truth, I belong here or someplace just like it… surrounded by rain and roosters and nature’s song; *
As I was transported back to ‘reality’ I fancied that I heard
the wind chime say goodbye to me. *
Whipbirds in Morning Mist I feel it so keenly, now I am back from the silence of my rainforest retreat… that unseen pressure of suburban living spaces… pressing in on all four sides. Horizon close and confining hovers just beyond rooftops and low mountains. No concept of distance here, everything huddled close-at-hand… no open spaces that lure the soul’s eyes to linger in faraway gaze… How blessed, at least, to dwell near those low mountains floating in winter mist beyond the rooftops… richly wooded in verdant layers of green… I hear the catbird call out in the still morning… the whipbirds bell-like echo clear and musical in the cold air.
A timid female bush turkey wanders across the lawn, looking for tidbits; they have adapted to sharing space, roaming the neighborhood, wandering down to the creek… roosting in trees at night… - they have adapted why can’t I? Somewhere a dog barks… a power drill grinds into wood… Sun and mist and remnant rain cloud play musical chairs with the morning a magpie warbles in such honeyed tones I pause in my reflection to listen to his sweet melody. * Yes, I feel that unseen pressure of suburban living spaces pressing in on all four sides… Still, how blessed I am to share that space with catbirds and whipbirds and mist on winter mornings. * But I will always remember the silence of that rainforest retreat where the beauty of Nature is complete. * Sharon 2015 *
These thoughts and photographs were written and taken of my stay at the Rainforest Organic Farmhouse surrounded by stunning rainforest, bushland and an abundance of wildlife; My short stay there soothed my soul and fed my spirit and I was very reluctant to leave. Host and owner Janine is a lovely warm woman who has created a place of comfort and welcome, peace and tranquility. This little book is in appreciation. * Sharon Lee Goodhand June 2015 sheleeme@y7mail.com