Winter is Here

I felt the first pangs of Winter today. It was comforting in the world still not doing anything about the Climate Crisis.

It's usually mid to late May when the first signs of Winter start appearing. The warmish winds of Autumn disappear, replaced by the cold gusts that seem to come straight off Antarctica.

This, I have to tell myself, is comforting.

The world has now seemingly passed a point where it is impossible to stop dramatic climate change occuring in the next 100 years. We had a chance about a decade ago, but that has now passed.

Winter Winds

We had so many chances. Too many. I think that was part of the problem. It was always seen as a problem for the future. A problem that the future would deal with, eventually.

But we didn't.

And now Winters like this might be a thing of the past.

But for now, when I feel the cold wind on my face, I smile; it's a refreshing cold. In the mists of winter everything goes into a kind of hibernation, with the promise of rebirth in just a couple of months. I couldn't live in a place without Winter.

It's a time of reflection. You can't reflect on yourself in the heat.

But by a fire, with a hot drink, a pen and a book, all you can do is reflect.

The Call of the Currawong

It's around this time of year that suddenly the skies sound different. The squaking of the cockatoos and the warbling of the magpies is replaced by a sound that is so hard to explain.

The Currawong's call is much more musical than any other call, and seems to fill the cold air; carried on the winds off the mountains. I've felt surrounded by these birds before; they've seemingly been in every tree around me but I've not been able to see them.

And then you catch a glimpse of one of the most magnificent birds in nature, one of the most regal, one of the most intelligent. A mix of magpie and crow.

Winter is here.

All is right with the world.

Even with everything in a mess