You know some people never see such things.
John Williamson’s beautiful song “Cootamundra Wattle is my friend” is floating around my head.
Day 7 of what has become a photography/blogging challenge (as one art form nourishes the other), it’s Sunday.
Sunday used to be a day of absolute quiet in country towns. Not so much anymore. People are busy no matter what the day and the sound of trucks on the highway never stops.
Nevertheless, I took my Canon 6D out with a lensbaby sweet 35 down the barrel, and spit out a few shots in the industrial estate.
Steve was also working outside the shed in the sun, welding, so I scared him (unintentionally, but it was a little bit funny) by wandering up beside him to take some photos.
When I loaded a few up to Instagram, I added John Williamsons song in the background. As I did so, I listened to the tune all the way through for the first time in ages.
Such wise words.
He (as the man in the song) is encouraging his wife “woman” to come out and sit down in the sun. He sings about noticing the bees making honey, the sound of magpies, all quintessential sounds of the Australian bush. His wife is a worrier, a person with one foot stuck in tragedy in the past. At the end he reminds her that she “may grow old and bitter cos she missed it, you know some people never get to see such things”.
What a beautiful message for a Sunday.
Be here, relax, enjoy the sunshine, forget about the worry for awhile, and just live.
Header photo from the beginning of my photo challenge. A man sits beneath the wide spread branches of a Fig tree Tickle Park Coolum. Kids are playing. It was last Sunday, and I had just come up from a brisk and refreshing swim in the ocean. Life is beautiful. We just have to notice all of its fragments.
That sounds like a great song. Think I’ll have a listen. Wise words indeed.
That tree is amazing. I would like to sit under it as well!
It’s such a blessing to that park, kids climb it and sit out on the limbs, it’s safe and nurturing and offers deep shade on hot days. There’s just something a bit magical about it.
Thanks for sharing this idea with this song and this park. Anita
wow ! what a tree; reminds me of my ‘mothering tree’; love ‘Cootamundra Wattle’ ; reckon I’ll pop over to YouTube and hear it again 🙂
It’s a beautiful tree John.
Such a great message…
💕
I’m definitely the worrier that may grow old and bitter because of an inability to slow down and appreciate the beautiful little things all around. Case in point, we recently had a cabinet refinishing done and restored our cabinets back to what they were when we first purchased them. But I was so caught up in how bad they looked with all of their scratches and scuffs that I was blind to what those scratches and scuffs represented. A family was raised in this kitchen. My family. Now that the scratches are gone, it’s a stark reminder that my kids are grown and gone too. It’s not that I’m not happy with the new (old?) look, but I feel a resolve to stop worrying about the little things and appreciate the memories that are still yet to be made.
Hi Cynthia. That’s such a lovely story about your cabinets and family. I feel the same. Our boys left marks and dents all over this house and we haven’t fixed them yet, my husband is a builder so..they may never be fixed as he is always busy somewhere else. I’ve grown to reframe my thinking about the cosmetic damage too and recall the happy laughter that once filled the halls instead of sighing over the damage. This house certainly lived and breathed (and cringed) when the boys ran around here. Now it has a peaceful soulful air that I also enjoy.