The tree is so silent.

Trees reflected in the Disappearing Tarn, an ephemeral tarn on kunanyi/Mt Wellington. It appears after heavy rain, then vanishes. The 90-minute bushwalk has the feeling of a pilgrimage, as locals spontaneously take time out to wander and wonder in the peace, beauty and enchantment of this secret on the mountain.

August 21st, 2009

The tree is so silent. All around there are birds making their dawn calls. They call and sing out from the silence of trees. A lovely still morning, mild and calm. The ground is no longer so cold. The wattle mulch is soft and deep, the ground is barer under the tree – so long since its leaves were shed, they have rotted away in all the wet. I was there at the grey time, listening to the silence of the tree, thinking how I talk too much. I love solitude and silence, but still I get caught up in talk and it somehow ruffles my energy, like wind on water.

            Yoga practice now.

I was thinking how important my rituals have become, and how hard it must be for traditional peoples, and old people, when their worships and sacred spaces are not respected by the cultures and generations of modernity.