Ruthless, Red, Romance

A B Paterson created a series of poems titled, “The Animals Noah Forgot”.

The prologue pieces are quite interesting.  Well worth a read.

We were returning from a foray at the Office when in the late evening sunshine we came upon a pair of Black-shouldered Kites hunting to feed their recently fledged young.

Sitting quietly by the vehicle they soon resumed their sweeps over the grasses around the trackside.

All the while being encouraged by their hungry young calling from the fenceline.

Enjoy

Such a graceful bird at hover.
Such a graceful bird at hover.
Locked on and adjusting angle.
Locked on and adjusting angle.
Milliseconds from impact
Milliseconds from impact
Mouse delivery
Mouse delivery
Anybody with a mouse is a friend of mine. Young zeros in on adult.
Anybody with a mouse is a friend of mine. Young zeros in on adult.
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Blogging 101 The beginning from the end.

Three weeks of Blogging 101 and it time to bid farewell to learning and launch out the barque of blogging on my own.

Have learned a thing or three about the blogging universe, but not sure a lot of it transposes into the page here.

We did “S-tra-ya” day, Mahhte  (Australia Day to the uninitiated), yesterday.  Instead of the usual burnt snags and fatty chops we had a spit-roast sitdown meal at the Villiage centre.  And among other things were entertained by Susie and Mel.  These bush poets and songsters took us on a tour-de-force (french on Aussie day mahhhte? )
They have a wonderful way of combining the old of the Banjo, Henry Lawson, The Breaker and other with modern music.  Imagine, (if you will), The Man from Snowy River, sung to Morning Town Ride,  or Waltzing Matilda, to Ghost Riders in the Sky, And then to top it all off an audience participation number of The Man from Ironbark, with several of the village doing the miming parts of said Man and Barber.

Hilarious.  Rolling on the floor funny, and brought the house down, – as they say.

See their website here for a bit of a looksee  at how Aussie, s tra ya really is.
Got me thinking of The Bards of the bush.

Somehow in this modern rush of life, their way of life and the stories they told are at best no longer relevant.  Hard to talk of stock and dry paddocks, and horses and whip cracking to someone glued to their mobile fone, trying to get GPS directions or upload their latest ‘selfie’, or what is the latest You-tube viral nothingness.   But, of course I digress.

Another thing that came to me about all this is that they didn’t deal with the deep emotional stuff.  There is no connection here like T.S. Elliot’s The Waste Land. Nor the cutting insight of Dylan Thomas, nor… and the list goes on. Nor the fine interaction of the universe, sunlight and shadow of the classic Taoist poets. And the old Hebrew rhymers who gave birth to such inspirational works that whole religions grew from them.

Yet.  The Bards of the Bush give us an insight into the life and times of a generation or two who lay the foundation of S-tra-ya as it is in its multi-cultural kaleidoscope.  And,  well, I could go on, but its a photo blog isn’t it.

The Banjo it seems wrote little of the birds of Australia.  Much of the human condition as he found it.  So I’m going to take a bit of poetic licence with his and other works over the next few weeks.   Never know where it will go.

Now when it comes to Bush. Nothing quite says it like Brown Falcon.

These amazing birds so bronzed and upright.  Here’s one of the young from the Office.  That rich colour of deep brown and brilliant tan are always a winning combination.

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