Category Archives: SUN SAND AND SWEAT

And if you look more deeply, with the eyes of a bodhisattva, with the eyes of those who are awake, you see not only the clouds and the sunshine in it, but that everything is here.

Thich Nhat Hanh.

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When glory has its day the world will greet a rising sun
A world awoken to no fighting nor the sound of guns
Men will shake each others hand and live for love and peace
All countries will unite as one
The fighting will all cease.

‘Dawn of Hope ‘ by Aaron McPhail.

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Water gentle, battle won ~ but won in peace under sun Carried gently one by one stones sands free on beaches run.

Duane Short, April 21, 2002, Water Trick Stone

http://www.rivers.gov/quotations.html

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Any one wounded by a Sting Ray, which often happens in catching sand-eels, will feel the pain of the wound very severely till the next tide.

A provincial glossary

 

foto – flynn’s beach jan 2011

The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest, And the bulrushes and reed-beds put off their sallow grey And burnt with cloudy crimson at dawning of the day. James Lister Cuthbertson

The Australian Sunrise

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-australian-sunrise/

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Waking up in the morning, I vow with all beings
to be ready for sparks of the Dharma
from flowers or children or birds.
Robert Aitken

http://www.gardendigest.com/morning.htm

foto – sunrise at raleigh 2010

Creole Proverb: The sea breeze blows the pelican where he wants to go.

iluka 030

http://www.emsah.uq.edu.au/awsr/new_site/awbr_archive/147/Cobby.htm

I drive out to Amoonguna to tell the family he

is right

I sit down with his Aunty, round the campfire, in

the night

I ask her to explain the pelicans and the meaning

of the sign

She laughs and whispers ‘Arrangkwe. 

just 2 pelicans in the sky!’

Ali Cobby Eckermann. little bit long time. Australian Poetry Centre, Balclava, 2009.

An Incisive Indigenous Voice

foto – pelican at iluka december 2009

The sea, my mother, is singing to me With the white foam caught in her hair, With the seaweed swinging its long arms free, To grapple the blown sea air: The sea, my mother, with billowy swell, Is telling her tale to the wave-washed shell.

 

The Sea to the Shell

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Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love, who rides from home;
But he rides slowly home again,
Whose heart has learnt to love and roam

The Sliprails and the Spur

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http://twf.com.au/showthread.php?t=12897

foto – brunswick heads boat hire 2008

Many Australians spend Christmas out of doors, going to the beach for the day, or heading to camping grounds for a longer break over the Christmas holiday period. It has become traditional for international visitors who are in Sydney at Christmas time to go to Bondi Beach where up to 40,000 people visit on Christmas Day.

http://www.cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/christmas/ 

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Jingle Bells (Aussie style)

Dashing through the bush,
in a rusty Holden Ute,
Kicking up the dust,
esky in the boot,
Kelpie by my side,
singing Christmas songs,
It’s Summer time and I am in
my singlet, shorts and thongs

Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summers day, Hey!
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut !,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden Ute.

Engine’s getting hot;
we dodge the kangaroos,
The swaggie climbs aboard,
he is welcome too.
All the family’s there,
sitting by the pool,
Christmas Day the Aussie way,
by the barbecue.

Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summers day, Hey!
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut!,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden Ute.

Come the afternoon,
Grandpa has a doze,
The kids and Uncle Bruce,
are swimming in their clothes.
The time comes ’round to go,
we take the family snap,
Pack the car and all shoot through,
before the washing up.

Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summers day, Hey!
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut!,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden Ute.

Aussie Jingle Bells
Col Buchanan

Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened. Jennifer Yane

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I used to hang out by the food table at PARTIES because you don’t have to talk to anybody. If you do then you can talk about the food. Jennifer Jason Leigh.

FOTO – BIRTHDAY PARTY AT KINGSCLIFF CREEK

I am of the east-coast country; Not from the great cities that play Faust, With flats for souls. VAL VALLIS.

AFRAME

But my daughter… said, “Tell them about how you’re never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there is always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don’t speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside.”

Audre Lorde in Sister Outsider

FOTO –FOR ZARA HABLETHWAITE. A FRAME AT THE END OF URUNGA. WITH BARINA.

People who are in a hurry are already dead.

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“I may not be better than other people, but at least I’m different.”
Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Yes. Feet on earth. Knock on wood. Touch stone. Good luck to all. Desert Solitaire. EDWARD ABBEY.

40 32 el alamein 1942

But stark within my memory
I see it once again
When we all looked at it anxiously
Days when we hoped for rain;
I hear the hollow sounds it made,
Like some prophetic drum,
As I tapped rung on rung, afraid
Of dreadful days to come,

 

Our Corrugated Iron Tank by James Hackston

FOTO  – 2/3 PIONEER IN WESTERN DESERT WWII

“The pebble in the brook secretly thinks itself a precious stone” Japanese Proverb.

NOV HOLS TAREE MORRISET 055

Adiye nje oka, o mu omi, o gbe okuta pe pe pe mi, sibe sibe o ni ohun o ni eyin, to o ba ni eyin, se o ma je irin ni? (Yoruba and Idanre)
A chicken eats corn, drinks water and swallows little pebbles, but still complains of having no teeth. If she had teeth would she eat steel? (Literal English)

Yoruba and Idanre ( Nigeria ) Proverb

FOTO -LAKE MACQUARIE AT SUNSHINE 2008

As one goes through life, one learns that if you don’t paddle your own canoe, you don’t move. KATHARINE HEPBURN,1894-1979

SOUTH GOLDEN BEACH SUNDAY 033

It’s little I care what path I take,
And where it leads it’s little I care;
I wish I could walk for a day and a night,
And find me at dawn in a desolate place
With never the rut of a road in sight,
Nor the roof of a house, nor the eyes of a face.

EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY, Departure, Collected Poems, 1923

FOTO – SOUTH GOLDEN BEACH 2009

 

http://www.americantrails.org/quotes3.html