the frogs know some thing

Sun day

Raining – good steady without pause rain.

somewhere else the sun shines this day.

 

the frogs gave notice a week ago .

Kingston was in residence and I gave him the hose and asked him to fill the pond by the lemon tree.

I had noticed a wallaby the evening before trying to find water below the thick mulch of algae.

‘The wallabies need a drink’ I tell him.

It takes him a long while and he hums a little tune splashing water onto rocks and flicking it over the stinging nettle that is threatening to engulf the pond. We have trouble agreeing on when to turn the hose off and it requires much negotiation of which he is already top of the class.

The bright green mossy matt now perches on top of a base of water.

‘wa wa can drink now’ he tells me proudly.

 

A day later a frog starts up ‘hear that Kingston the frog is happy there is water back in the pond.’

He runs off to see but it goes silent,quiet stalking is not on his nearly four year old radar.

Next day there is a chorus happening and I say ‘there will be eggs being laid next.’

He checks ‘cant see any yet.’ Another day or two and we hear croaking from the dam down in the orchard.

‘The frogs know something’ I tell Kingston.

‘What?’ he asks.

They just know.

I don’t recall when last it rained, the countryside has been looking very browned off what with dry and heavy frosts .

 

I visited Carole yesterday and found her up in the yards doing some sort of filling of containers.

She moaned and groaned at me over the fence,’ flu’ she said ‘been flat on my back. My cousin came over with a bag of grapefruit and blahhh everywhere.I said to her what did you come and see me for? it’s no good sandy I can’t afford to be sick – too much to do. and I haven’t got you those bags of manure  yet’ and the tears spill over.

‘ don’t worry about it’ I tell her ‘I have brought you some tights’ and then we chat about the neighbours who are making her life miserable and our friend Cheryl who broke her arm recently.

 

We are standing smack bang in the middle of her paddocks. I gaze fondly up at the Dumpling which gently rises and then steepens into a knoll some few hundred metres high. A place of so many adventures for us over the years.

Sheep with bells and tails are baa ing about and the creek disappears in a curving line of trees up into the Illawambra valley. This is Caroles landscape her walking tracks her home and she knows every inch of it. You want to talk about UFOs she has seen them here hovering over the Dumpling.

‘Rain is coming’ she tells me as I am leaving, ‘all the signs are here.’

‘goodo’ I wave and turn the car around scattering sheep hens and roosters.

 

Once there was a brown frog and a white frog that took turns inhabiting her kitchen sink and depending which one was about meant rain or dry.

A pee wee peeee weeee ing from the pines near her house is foretelling rain.

A flock of yellow tailed black cockatoos flying over yelling out spells rain.

When the ants come inside making their journey along the sink and down the cupboards rain is not far away.

And if the springs around the Dumpling start filling up that is a sure sign of lots of rain coming.

And if I am wondering what sort of season it will be I ask for the lambs born ratio – more ewes than fellas means a fertile summer and more guys than girls means a dry time a lean time a drought time.

And over the years well… she has my vote I can tell you that.

Years of observation and learning directly from nature

hard to beat really.

Despite Carole, despite  Barry at the Co-op predicting 200mls and the Bureau of Meterology forecast and despite friends calling in rain I did not get in much-needed kindling.

It was on my list of things to do yesterday I tell John when he comes home from a trip away. Giving the bench full of dishes a glance he says not the only thing on your list that you didn’t get round to.

 

mmmm it is Sunday and I am practicing a day of rest. Mum always did.

Doing nothing is my mantra this day and the rain is the perfect companion. Drumming loudly on our tin roof I lie on the couch under a snuggy rug unperturbed by dishes or kindling.

A smile creeps over my face from time to time and I wonder if doing nothing is actually a real possibility or am I just having myself on?

yep that is exactly what is happening , having a lend of myself.

once again

which makes me smile even more.

 

I put on gummies and pick up the brolly and go for a wet walk in the dripping glistening forest.

I love that smell.

Raindrops hang poised on the tips of leaves and tree trunks add other colours to their palate.

I sing – making up a tune about rain and puddles and trees.

Ah ha. That is what I am feeling this day – a surging unstoppable uncontrollable sense of lightness and joy flooding my body my mind my heart and my spirit.

That is what rain can do for a gal give you a deep sense that all is well with the world;

that fertility is assured

that everything is being nourished

that vigilance can be relaxed in this moment

and all I can say is

Thank you

and thank you again.

 

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Author: faeriembassy

the faerie embassy is my home space,a beautiful mudbrick castle in a richly diverse forest. which means I am very passionate about wallabies and pythons and mist spiders and twisted angophoras and the sound of the wind and the feel of the rain . we are an ark ,an island of light, a beacon of common sense in a crazy out of control consumption mad world.we have a composting toilet for goddess sake.

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