What are you noticing?
Today, small squares of papery bark flutter down from the long trunks of the gum trees in the back yard. The big gum, the one that drew me to this place, stands covered in bark peels waiting for a liberating breeze; they look like the windows of an advent calendar deep into the season, most of them opened so that the anticipation is heightened not relieved. A brief gust and the flakes fall like confetti. What are we celebrating? The final cool of morning as the sun starts pulling a hot blanket over these hills for another record-breaking day? How the cycles of things persist, and the constancy of adaptation? The invitation to shed my skin?
