I don’t know about you but my favorite time of day is between 4.30am and 5.30am that magic time as the land awakens when the dark silence is suddenly broken with a burst of bird calls, that moment just before the sun begins to poke his head above the horizon casting rays of reflected color that dance and linger upon any clouds hanging in the sky, a different combination every morning then the bright disc pierces your view and sometimes if you are lucky the clouds obscure the intense light so you can look at his face even if for the briefest of moment and this was on of those moments.
I don’t normally share landscape picture but today I decide to take some shots I don’t have the right lenses that’s why I don’t bother but I thought I should share at least one of these blessed moments, please excuse the quality of the shots.
This is the view I get every morning from my van, this place is so beautiful and what you cant see is I am surrounded on nearly all sides by the very edge of the Daintree rainforest which lays just beyond the cow & cane paddocks.
The vibrancy of color here is insanely intense, I just spent a week in bed with a migraine locked up in my van on and off and one morning on waking I peered out the crack of the open door next to my bed and it was like a big green slap in the face, the greens surrounding me seemed electric and I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me as they can become very light sensitive from the migraines but no as my migraine has faded the colors have not.
I have never seen a place so green it is over whelming at times and I feel like a character in a gaudy cartoon book where the colors aren’t quite right but I figured it was the scattered showers we have had here this week, everything has grown and intensifies in color.
With the arrival of these refreshing showers the grass has decide to up the ante and is growing so rampantly now I recon if you sat still long enough you could actually watch it grow and there are little colorful patches of weedy flower heads popping up looking picturess like some old masters water color painting and the insects are busying themselves collecting the sweet nectar the the flowers put forth but there is a knowing on the edge of mine and their consciousness that it wont remain this way for long as the farmer is on a mission all in the name of aesthetics to tame this chaotic wilderness which we call lawn.
An ever so slightly tummy tickling fear grows inside as I ponder what will happen to all my insect and arachnid now well known and loved neighbors but my concern lies mostly with the spiders as the insects can fly away on their delicate wings from the inevitable dangers of the farmer and his trusty steed of a lawn mower to find sweet delights elsewhere but the the spiders they live their precarious lives right in the depths of the grass forest but as the dawn light creeps in I find my fear unfounded as they seem to survive as they appear like clock work every morning even after the farmer has accomplished his vicious goal, there they are sitting in their toiled over glistening webs their steely strong silk thread weaving the now shortened blades of grass together like little baskets no not baskets but traps which they sit patiently in waiting for their pray to make the fatal mistake and end up as breakfast.
I will be sad to leave this place that has become my home but the sadness is fleeting and fades like a distant school yard memory because I know I will always come back to this enchanted of all places and I’m sure my spider friends will still be here as they always have been.