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| I am grateful for Thanksgiving is not a tradition in Australia, it is not a holiday we celebrate as a whole, even though I am sure there are families out there that do. However I do believe that in the territory of Norfolk Island here in Australia they do recognise it. I had an American Supervisor when I was a puppy raiser, she celebrated Thanksgiving and invited us all to celebrate with her each year which I really enjoyed. For me I tend not to celebrate or recognise certain things on an official date, but more so regularly when I feel it is important or I feel the need to. Like Valentine's Day. I myself prefer to regularly show and remind my husband that I love him, appreciate him etc rather than on a date determined on the calendar and when it becomes a hugely overpriced money earner. I am grateful for so many things every day, not just on a particular date. Ask me at any time what I am grateful for and I can give you a lengthy list. I silently give thanks, to no one in particular, for all the gifts and blessings bestowed upon me on a daily basis. It is a private thanks, that needs to be shared with no other, but I like to acknowledge it for myself. At this particular time: Wed 5th Nov 11.40am I am grateful for my life. I could bore you all with the lengthy list of things in my life that makes it just that: my life, but I won't. I have, and am living a life that I am very grateful for and all that it encompasses. |
Prompt: Have fun with these words: twig, leaf, flint, thorn, straw, feather and sunrise. Is there anything more magical than a sunrise? The beginning of a new day, filled with endless possibilities. The chance for a do over, to right some wrongs, to leave the mistakes of yesterday behind. The woods were cool this summer morning and the young woman took advantage of this precious time to herself before the heat of the day set in. She knows these woods like the back of her hands and they hold endless childhood memories for her. Twigs snap as she moves her way through the endless pathways that only the locals are familiar with. These pathways are covered in leaf litter and hide the footprints of those that have gone before. This is not only a sanctuary for this young woman, but the endless species of bird life that call these woods home. This morning their song fills the air with endless calls and birdsong, all vying to outdo each other to be heard. The stunning feather of a Palm Cockatoo descends from the trees as the bird takes flight, moving away from the woman as she approaches. She captures it in her hand as it sails towards her upon the slightest puff of breeze and she admires the inky darkness of it's colour. The Indigenous Australians believe the Cockatoo is a messenger between the human and spiritual world so she tucks in safely through a hole in her hat. As she runs her hands along it's silky length she pulls back sharply when a thorn, stuck in part of the feather bites into her finger. A small bubble of blood rises and she quickly locates and removes the thorn before it can imbed itself any deeper. "The cheeky bugger" she says quietly as she lifts her eyes to the trees to see if she can locate the Cockatoo. Moving quietly and quickly the young woman makes her way towards a small alcove set amongst the trees and clocks the small tendrils of smoke rising from within. As she rounds the side of a tree and comes upon the alcove opening, she smiles as she sees her best friend waiting and warming her hands by the small fire made from straw kindling and a flint they had found many moons ago on one of their many adventures. Sitting down, the two young women do not need to speak. They are there to listen to their ancestors who call upon them this day, to deliver messages from the afterlife to those they have left behind. The young woman removes the feather from her hat and holds it in her hand, feeling the life energy move upon her skin. Soon she stares into the face of her grandmother, gone from this world two years past. She feels a sense of peace and comfort and knows that her grandmother's spirit flies high and free within the Cockatoo. Wild and free, as she always was in life. She gives thanks for the messages her grandmother delivers this morning and lays the feather upon the stones that ring their little fire. There is no greater blessing than to recieve the messages of the loved ones. To be the vessel of communication between this world and the next. |
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