goddess of mercy, I had the privilege of occupying the front seat of
our rental Ute alongside Della, our resident plant specialist. She's
like an encyclopedia of plant names – much faster than looking things
up in a field guide. I asked and she defined.
"What's that white flowering tree?"
"Tea tree."
"What's that orange flower alongside the road?"
"The orange flower and stem is Watsonia, the orange and yellow flowers
are evening primrose."
"What's this field of fluffy-looking white flowers?"
"Pyrethrum. It's a plant-based insecticide they grow here."
"What's that tree with the long needles sticking straight up from the branches?"
"I think it's Norfolk Pine – it was one of the major imports Captain
Cook brought over from Norfolk Island. I think it's related to the
Monkey Puzzle tree."
Monkey puzzle trees are a permaculture plant – their seeds are
delicious, like pine nuts, I think.
You'd have to ask Della to get the real dirt.
**
With all the rain lately, I made up a new song. It goes like this:
Rainy rainy rainy rain
Windy windy windy wind
Cold & wet & cold again
When will this weather end?
It expresses some of my...not frustration, but fatigue at the
situation. It's supposed to be warm – summer! I'm still sporting two
pairs of socks!
**
Going back to the plant identification. Tea tree struck a chord with
me – it's an essential oil, so perhaps I could pick some, dry it and
burn it as incense!
When we returned with the new (to us) excavator, we had a bit of
trouble unhooking the trailer from the Ute, and the guy in the ad lied
about a few things about the digger – it's older and more used than
what he said. I put together the idea of smudging – renewing and
blessing a space – to apply to the digger, and that's what I did the
other morning.
Solomon and I walked up the hill into the gully on the neighboring
plantation (and bushwacked plenty before coming to our senses and
simply walking through the grass on the other side of the fence) and
found a bushy, spiky tree with white flowers. I crushed a leaf to see
if it smelled – yep, although I wasn't sure what of. In any case, I
picked some, pricked myself a bit, and just as it began to sprinkle we
headed home.
Later, I bundled it together and tied it with grass, then used the gas
stove to light my tea tree wand. I smudged the shed – our living side
and the tool side, then headed to the excavator so it could come into
its new life in the best way possible. Blessing with health and
longevity, I smoked in, around and under the big yellow thing. After
my conversation with Della about land-dialogue and Tyler's view of it,
I felt a little hesitant to announce what I'd done.
Solomon did that for me.
I just smiled, explained smudging, and looked smug.
Well, not really. I shrugged my shoulders and kept doing what I was
doing. It felt good to bless Abeo, to hold the intention of health and
longevity and bestow it upon the earth and our workings here.
**
The latest: I decided to move on, since I got to meet some cool people
in Franklin and Lorinna (whom you will be hearing about shortly!), so
I'm leaving Monday for Burnie and Devonport.
I'm finding that having the expectation of leaving frees me from a
certain mindset of propriety, of having the need to do things the
right way, or how I'm 'supposed to' do something, to allowing myself
to do things the way I want to. I have a limited amount of time left,
and I don't care anymore what anyone here thinks of me. I won't have
to deal with repercussions for long, if at all, so
I just realized what an interesting mindset I've been carrying with me
all this time. Trying to do things right to be accepted. That's why I
hang back until I have an example to follow, because I think the way I
do things isn't the right way, or the way of this family.
How do I maintain this psychological freedom from caring when I enter
into a new situation? Do I just plan to leave and keep extending my
stay? I'm glad I've become aware of this. Now to allow it to 'set.'
